I really think
that it is just a sin.
That when there is trouble
The Big Boys join in.

They all come across
saying that they'll make a change
and then somebodys World
they will then rearange.

The US and Russia
along with us Brits
don't want it that way
so we blow it to bits.

We give guns to him,
supply arms to another.
Then we sit back and watch
as Brother kills Brother.

Who are we to guide?
Who are we to preach.
When we cling on to their assets
like a blood ******* leach.

We should leave others alone
till our own house is done,
yet we watch as our schools
become run by the gun.

Where now it's the norm
to be shot as we learn,
just as long as big commerce
is able to earn.

Those who should know better
don't know how to behave
Happy to see
another Child in a Grave.

So you Big Boys go elsewhere
because it's well known
that if you come to play
you come armed with a Drone.

While you're sitting back
comfy in your armchair.
You can relentlessly ****
from a place that's not there.

Then when you pull the plug
and remove your devices
we are faced with a problem
of people making bad choices.

We have made problems worse!
We have let people down
and when we get a world crisis
we'll react with a frown.

We don't want them here.
They cannot go there.
A whole host of humanity
who is welcome Nowhere.

We created this problem!
We created this way.
So in the future
keep The Big Boys away.

I do not identify myself as a black american
I do not identify myself as an activist
I do not identify myself
As anything other than what I am
Do not arbitrate my existence
It will only magnify your bigotry
Do not lecture me
It will not ratify your ministry
Do not objectify my identity
Do not marginalize my sincerity
I know your criticism
It will not dwindle me
I am defiantly deaf to it
It will not compute
Trust me
It will only intensify
What I occupy
Do not subject me to anomaly
Do not try and direct me
I will not comply
Do not concern yourself
with my essentiality
I am not lost
Do not concern yourself
With what defines me
Just ask
If I am willing and able.

~~
when the silence comes down
in the darkness
the space between you and me
is just a sigh

some of the awaking words
floating in the mind
where tunes comes from
the next door

words to have come out
slowly
poetry as the whispering of  
dry dropping leaves

come up in the
hopeless romantic flute
comes on the
tune of the lost love

a portrait of broken dreams,
black and white
where exists a defeated faded face
and your silhouette
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

A strip of barren land
Stark, forbidding
But I sat there and watched a flower grow
Bringing a bright splash of colour
To this dead land
Bringing a bright splash of hope
To a world sinking into the darkness

Beat the rhythm
empty hand,
Iron cast chains
rattles command.

Ol' Boss Hogg,
baton raised
Self righteous fool
has need of praise.

In order that
he gain acclaim,
thinks with hate,
acts with shame.

Human beings,
commodity,
ships hold stacked
with those once free.

Bodies piled
upon high
you will not see
the strong ones die.

Scars embedded
on their backs
chained and shackled
to the racks.

We deal in branded
breathing stock,
Unload black vassal
from our docks.

Beat the rhythm
empty hands.
Iron cast chains
in far off lands.

We keep our skivvy,
wired hair blacks.
We work them hard,
we score their backs.

They do for us,
they work the field.
Grow the cotton,
pick the yield.

Keep the body,
take the mind.
Labour whatever's
left behind.

And if demeanour
does ever flinch.
We'll introduce you
Willie Lynch.

Beat the rhythm.
Empty hands
Iron cast chains.
Unfair demands.

Beat the rhythm,
shackled feet.
We take their worst
but can't be beat.

Josiah Jack
never uttered a sound
when they dragged him away
from the scene.
when his poor body
was eventually found,
the treatment endured,
had been mean.

With no tongue in his head
they had left him for dead.

With a month
on his back,
he did indeed
contemplate.
Only sin
“he was black”
hence forth
this weary state.

They attacked in the night,
hooded and white.

All in all
he was
lucky
to be
breathing at all,
all because
he was plucky,
all because
he stood tall.

A ***** they said
should lower his head.

Were they hooded
for fear?
Were they hooded
in shame?
Most likely,
once covered,
they could hide
of their name.

If things were so right,
why hide out of sight?

Bravery isn't
a word for the ****,
Cowards,
this word comes to mind.
Bravery comes
when there's only one man,
not one
with ten more stood behind.

I will strike in a pack
with someone watching my back.

Their plan
was to ****,
this man
Josiah Jack.
Perhaps they
get a thrill
when someone
cannot fight back.

They get real loud
when they join with the crowd.

Josiah
knew well
that if he
raised a hand
his kin folk
would feel hell
from this
unruly band.

So he did not fight
but gave in to his plight.

They think
they were hidden
beneath that
white hood,
Josiah's hearing
is sound
and his
memory is good.

So when things are forgot,
he will take of his lot.

That's exactly
what happened,
as they lay
in their bed.
The flames hurled
with fury
the sky
filled with red.

This man barbequed them like fish on a rack
and no one put it down to Josiah Jack.