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Oh these days, living in a caricatures ink,
Where extremes become normal each day,
I turn on the TV and can’t help but think,
It seems Archie Bunker has gotten his way.
Crowing “Those were the days” with ironic flourishes,
An anti-hero, imperfect, a misguided clown,
Meant to shine light on our cultural skirmishes,
Not to be held up as the toast of the town.
The cult of ignorance has built a platform
On top of our lizard brain prejudice fears.
Sneering “pass the buck” if you fail to perform,
“Idolize my fame, and villainize your peers.
Pay no attention to evidence you see,
And whatever you do, just don’t blame me.”
I wrote this one a number of years ago. It seems so relevant and I felt it deserved a reshare.
James Sep 26
A man was lynched yesterday
He didn't even have a name
His only crime
Was not being white
For this he got himself hanged

A man was beat yesterday
Beat for having dark skin
How dare he be from
Somewhere different than us
That is a cardinal sin

A woman was ***** yesterday
By a man she thought was a friend
***** in her home
Then left beaten and alone
Screaming inside her own head

A man was shot yesterday
For loving different than you
Shot in the head
And left for dead
His partner's heart now broken in two

Is this the country we want?
I thought this was the land of the free
Gunned down for love
Or strung up for nothing
Doesn't sound free to me

Why not just let people live?
We're all different in our own way
But cut us you'll see
You bleed just like me
We're not so different at the end of the day
Spicy Digits Sep 4
You scream
"NORMAL!, NORMAL!"
Drunk on ego.

You dream in whiteness
And self-pleasure to
Freud's mother.

Nimble sausage digits
Scribble words
That become homelessness.

You pathologise honesty
Diagnose innocence
And reduce real intelligence
To page number 245.

You call us children
While talking from yours,
Soiled and terrified.  

Little boy be gone.
You have made your mark.
A skid mark, a mark nonetheless.
Ron Sparks Aug 2023
Ignore
racist bigots;
stand proud against their hate.
Trust me when I tell you that you
matter
Jeremy Betts Sep 2022
We have more in common than you might think, from way back when, we've all been a slave to the system
This isn't some All Life's Matter nonsense to gum up progress, it's just an explanation of the MO of our nation
It went from skin to the dollar amount you bring in, it's my history too, no appropriation
How is it that I don't fit in being that I'm part Native American, must be the other part of me that's an Irish man

They stole you then stoud you and demand you comply to tilling stolen soil using the same regurgitated lie
You were forced to work, we were forced to die, you deserve reperations but unironically so do I
You look at me and just see another white guy, I'm a perfect example that history can't always be seen by the naked eye
Never forget the why, we're being forced to hide the cry as they rush to rewrite themselves as the good guy

Sectioned off ghetto and reservations put in place for the preservation of the notion only the white survive and thrive
Every second of our life the truths been uncovered and streamed live, no need for a deep dive
But they still claim to be blind to the red stained streets from this perverse and nonconsentual mass blood drive
Their stories never jive but the hive mentality rules, allowing bigotry and hate to always revive

I want to Hulk out, often feel I'm about too, but what's that gonna do, it'll only prove we're as savage as they say
They are waiting for the avalanche to fall any day so they can justify putting us away, barking at us to just sit and stay
Is there another way, how can we drag this from out the shadows and into the light when there's only perpetual grey
Allowin' us to say what we gotta say hoping then we'll go away, how many marters will it take before we're no longer prey?

Question charitable blankets, pass on the boat ride, how we suppose to trust when every handshake is a lie certified
A bona-fied villain willin' and able, fully capable of genuine genocide screaming gods on their side
If there is a god and he does come back he better watch his back or run and hide
They lack morals of any kind, replaced with blind pride, he'd undoubtedly be crucified in a fashion not only justified but glorified

I know you can't fight hate with hate, that'll only perpetrate this disastrous fate
But all we hear is wait, the time is never right but always near and once it's here they'll be glad to open the gate
But if we keep rattling the cage they'll have to keep pushing back the date, so we wait
But how much do they think we can actually take? Maybe they're just waiting for us to finally break

©2022
Rococo Jun 2022
Give them to the knives, hungry as they are.
Give them to the noose, hang them out to dry.
Give them to the cross, ***** them for the mass.
Give them to the streets, stifling their hearts.
Give them to the soil, welcoming them back.

Give us to the knives, dull them with our hides.
Give us to the noose, loosening it's grasp.
Give us to the cross, tear the altar down.
Give us to the streets, outing all their grime.
Give us to the soil, taking back our lives.
Sean Achilleos Mar 2022
I'm really not interested in your bigotry
It's not my fault that you've spent your life standing in judgement of others
You wouldn't recognise God even if you had bumped into Him at the supermarket
Because you're too busy trying to find the devil behind every rock
Written by Sean Achilleos
31 March 2022
Francie Lynch Jun 2021
I am woke,
Yet living in a nightmare
Of prejudice.
Dinara Tengri Apr 2021
Miserable little town,
Drowning in your own hate
I won't miss your narrow streets
or your alleys shrouded in darkness.
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