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Angelo Martinez Oct 2020
Tell Gregory Porter

To find me on the corner

With a cam recorder next to a coroner,

Where blood stains engrave

The cities pavement.

Bodies left behind outlined

Just to outline the enslavement.

Do my actions reflect those of a pacifist

Or a white hand that lacks a black fist?

Take a look at the visual of my concentration;

Open casket,

Nose high, closed eyes,

Tears of the surprised,

During the wake of the given invitation.

The received information

Results in cultural separations,

A fight for rights and reparations.

Targets painted in red across the nation,

Were never hard to hit ‘cause

They were cornered by gentrification.

Death becomes a part of recreation.

Pops couldn’t hop the scotch

Because of his inability to cope.

And young necks remain engrained

Because every day they jumpin’ rope.

Scholars hoping when

The bell rings hell doesn’t sing

On the grounds where they play,

‘cause bodies sway where ever they lay

Stringed to a child’s swing.

So tell Gregory Porter

To find me on the corner

With a cam recorder next to a coroner,

‘cause the school system

Is a southern battle zone

Positioned over catacombs

Filled with black skin

Killed by those

That lack melanin

But the color of their ligaments and bones

Remain akin.
Angelo Martinez Oct 2020
After your last gasp to grasp life,
warm prayers fill the night.
Empty hallways stained
from the cries of pain,
leaving our bodies eternally drained.
Prayers turned into stares,
the realness of your stillness
was something we couldn't bare.
Your last breath testifies
to what I don't yet understand.
As for now, chilling winds ensnare
warm prayers from these cold hands.
Angelo Martinez Oct 2020
They say a bullet holds the truth,

if that's true, than the trigger must be in God's hand.

Because blanks or misfires define the words of a man.

Aiming judgment upon a person with a hollow mind,

Releases like hot air from the chamber of a hollow nine.

Primitive motives of mankind are manipulated by a shady figure,

Footsteps followed by Lucifer as they pull the trigger.

Leaving an unforgivable impression, that rests against the skins complexion.

Mislead by the deception of misguided aggression or the never taught lessons.

Lessons, that passes truth to receptive ears.

But is unaware of the one who plays in the opposite position,

Because the opposition plays off of Satan's interception.

Transforming divine interventions into liquor confessions

That whisper during one night stand sessions.

Just to wake up the next morning in the front pew

Chained down in shackles at the gates of hell

Hoping we can capture love through a lustful view.

A view that's always satisfied with its own reflection

But reflects the ignorance of one's flesh

Because when Adam ate the apple, sin altered everyone’s perception.

So here’s a suggestion, better yet have you ever had the audacity to question?

If a man has faith is he standing on a foundation made out of quicksand?

Because the truth is, words that lack truth are never fit to stand.

God’s word was made to equip us all so we can understand.

Those without him don’t know the true meaning of love,

And lacks the seed that needs to be planted

Because knowledge of the truth is the root

For all the branches to bear fruit

And if that’s true, than the truth must be

Firmly gripped in the palms of God’s hands.

— The End —