Fires in ferguson
Bridges in Brooklyn
The youth in the streets cry out in unison
Hands up
Don't shoot
A young man took twelve bullets
Because he was brown
Battered bodies on the ground
This countries streets are paved in glass
and blood
The air we breath is tear gas
And polluted by discrimination
We are connected by rage
And in this day and age
We are convicted by fear
The civil servants drive armored vehicles
The oppressed pay takes to the oppressors
Who pays for the tank that the city bought?
Who pays for the policeman's bullets?
How hard is it to live without fear of death from your own government.
ISIS is less threatening
Than the grand jury
This story keeps coming back into our history books. Trayvon Martin,
Michael brown,
Emmet till
I am no longer proud to be american
We all live in
MISsouERiY

Bewildered he stands in night time mist
then he wonders as he clenches his fist
how he'd arrived here, with a brain twist
rooted, planted, his reality is dismissed

early onset, gray matter's soon demise
bothered by his failed attempts to recall
his memory's been faltering by degrees
it was nothing he nor his family foresaw

he turns to see a car with an open door
and found car keys in his pants' pocket
it seems he can remember a little more
he's electrified as a plugged in socket

There was a large note on the car's dash
with his name, address, cell, and phone
in case he was ever in an accident crash
all would know the facts will stand alone

My spirit doesnt fit for long
It needs room to wander
For all of my many lifetimes
I meander and merge
Migrate and congregate
Relate and perpetuate

i breath
And i shift
My soul doesn't settle
Feathers frantic, curving rains
Tops of mountains, secret caves

It doesn't understand weight,
Light and free forever wandering
Forever lonesome, but relishing the clean stinging pain,
The solo sunrise
Boots on the ground.
New smiles to see
Best friendships lasts 5 minutes
Get a bright flash of me.
Thats all you need.
A streak, a shooting star
to pierce and uplift and connect and remember
Then off and out and alone

Sometimes my soul thinks it belongs
It holds on
It exhales
Breathing out all the air and tries to sink
To touch the bottom.
To remain, to be heavy and constant
A stone not a leaf,
But then no air. The drowning feeling. Panic and pressure and then the numbness creeps in. Conform, accept. Belong, work, remain, stop flowing, stay the knowing.
The weight of the water is warm and dull, crushing, aching,
Forgetting the joy of breath,
And lightness.
Forgetting my nature
Only taking comfort in the constance of depression
The hopeless relief of daily dying