I'm not black, but I see you
I'm not black, but I hear you
I'm not black, but I’m near you
I'm not black, but I stand with you

you are all a blessing
so let’s stop messing

let’s cut the silence
and cut the violence

our organs are the same
the blood types won’t change
but still, this is no fair game

I see too many privilege
depending on your village

we make huge difference
let’s prove your innocence,
cut the ignorance

we are all the same,
only different names

guided by authorities,
but let’s set priorities

of humanity?
I see 0 percent
we need to stand up,
be a movement

we are hating and killing
this is not okay,
this is not fulfilling

your worth is defined by a colour,
it’s worth only some dollars?

what the **** are they thinking?
these racists are winning

where are human rights?
they only count, if you’re white?

this only causes damage
in different ages,
on different pages

people get hurt
we should be concerned

the future is equal? ha! *******

how should today’s children,
be tomorrow’s change,
if we teach them rage

how to hate one another,
not to value your brother,
how to be violent,
how to be silent,
how to watch,
follow the system,
how to be a victim

but now for real,
listen

it affects anybody
in America,
the cops have their hands ******

A.C.A.B. but not all are *******
there are some,
with really good standards

we should all be
on the same team,
make love our religion
that would be supreme

why fight each other
when we share a mother?

mother earth wouldn’t like all this hatred,
that we created

I don’t understand,
how can you be so mean?
how can we heal?
is there a vaccine?

I know life can be joyless,
so let’s raise our voices

let’s stay strong,
together,
and be clever

let’s learn how to care,
how to love,
how to share

let’s be a game changer,
cut out the danger

make it safe for everyone
no need to use a gun

less violence, decrease
let’s be good, find peace

we come in different shapes, colours, sizes
now this problem finally arises

we need to find a cure
it’s urgent, I’m sure

bring some clarity,
embrace the difference,
cherish similarity

we are all human
let’s find a solution
create a revolution

more or less melanin?
doesn’t matter,
'cause we all need
the same medicine.

- gio 31.05.2020

Justice is not an action
Justice can not be manufactured  
Justice can not be administered by magistrate
Justice is not a cage
Justice is not privilege  
Justice is not retroactive
Justice is now
Justice is love
Justice is intuition
Justice is heart
Justice just is

Mary Seacole
Black nurse sculpture
Your determination points
To injustice. Your struggle
To serve, be accepted.
Why were you shamed and denied?
This is the broken land where we live.
Your courage, your stride
Takes me to our weakness

To the ache in my chest like a
broken blood vessel.
And trace the lines in my hand
To a bad rotting root.
How many wounds did your hand with compassion soothe?

Behind your certitude
I imagine pain.
Did your hurting
Search out injury and loss?

And as you nursed those violent lacerations,
Patiently waiting whilst the pathway beat its course,
Did you see as if through a veil,
Your own fractured self,
Fusing with your patient’s,
Both your Injuries restore back together
All the way towards their good health?

What I’m craving right now is a
Shot of July,
Fireworks flying high
Over this town that everybody wants to leave
But I will never get over,
Never get over his smile,
Friday night,
Pulling up in my drive,
His voice so full and alive,
Making me want to dive
Right in,
Right into the lake that’s too cold
But I’m too old
I guess, to laugh out loud,
Do something just for fun,
Be happy for no reason,
Be optimistic and cherish hope for a
Better season-
I’m supposed to be already
Battle-hardened, war-ready;
I haven’t reached twenty but I know
There’s evil in the world.
That doesn’t mean there still isn’t good.
I’m craving a shot of July when
I’m not old enough to take a shot,
But I’m old enough to take a stand,
Lend a hand,
Understand,
Witness injustice firsthand
And use my voice to try and mend.
So please.
No more gunshots in July,
No more mothers wondering whether
Her son is going to survive the night,
No more human skin grated against concrete,
No more hospital beds surrounded by weeping,
No more lives lost and priests kneeling
And children screaming for their fathers,
Both earthly and eternal.
What I’m craving right now is a
Shot of July,
Fireworks flying high,
The loudest screams out tonight
Are the children chasing each other with
Sparklers in the yard,
Not yet marred
By the ideas of the world.
So please.
No more gunshots in July.

Part I

Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Will I live life and love,
Or will I fall
To fits of rage and terror
Kindness- a foreign quality
A sweet poison slowly blurring
The edges of my soul and sanity
Leaving a hole where
There once was light and laughter.
And void of painful questions
Without answers.

Part II
Mirror, mirror, oh my love
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful before
Those erudite eyes, that sweet smile, those lovely curves
Too bad, they can’t seem to calm my nerves
For it doesn’t matter when my skin is dusky
And that is a crime in the eyes of the ivory
Skinned officers who pledge their allegiance
To the rich and the fair
And not their country’s citizens.

Part III
Mirror, mirror oh so fake
Why do you distress me this way?
I hate what I see
But all I see is me
Show me my dreams
And not cold reality
For my actuality is bleak
Or so it feels
In my skinny fit jeans
For 13-year-olds
And not seventeen.

"I can't breathe." - George Flloyd

"I don't have a a gun, stop shooting!" -Michael Brown

"What are you following me for?" -Trayvon Martin

"...." -Jonathan Ferrell

"I love you too." -Sean Bell

Stop. Killing. Innocent. People.

Have I been asleep in a dream full of toil?
Laboring to grow, trudging, but never watering the soil

Years spent clawing and grasping at straws
Never really growing, never really fighting while authority broke laws

So absorbed with existence and future opportunity
Never stopping to think about my earthly community

People are suffocating and dying and with every breath I wonder
How many more lives need to be lost, left squandered in the gutter?

As I watch the images all around me of lives yearning to be free
How is there still this much sorrow and still so many in need?

Looking back maybe it was not sleep, but rather twilight
Consumed with rest and survival, never understanding other’s bigger fight

Just being complacent now after all this rage seems like a sin
There is no going back, there is no rest, but where do I begin

In twilight the stories felt far like bad dreams, but in the end not my own
As bad as life was, my heartache and suffering was still from a throne

As I fully wake I pray the world repents away the shame
With so much hate around us that every dead soul has no name

As this twilight fades may I have a voice for those with none
May the clueless open their eyes compelled to save every mother’s son

As I awaken my spirit to see the pain and injustice
Will those lost souls continue to be hate’s accomplice?

As I hear the masses call out beckoning for equality
May the world hear the audible heartbeat of humanity

The slumber is over and the twilight retired
Leaving only room for justice, love and hope’s burning fire

May we lift each beautiful soul up in glory wrapping their ancestors in light
As statues fall and voices are lifted for justice there can be no sleep not even twilight

my mother drinks black coffee every day.
i’ve always thought it was strange— why not add a splash of cream to make it a bit easier on the palate? maybe a dash of sugar, too— some sweetness to ease its way down.

my mother's skin is the color of caramel, of coffee diluted with cream and sugar and a sprinkle of cinnamon. despite this, she gave birth to three children the color of dark chocolate, of the black coffee she so adores.

unlike black coffee, we are not bitter, though the world expects that of us. we are not ugly, either, though they likely expect that, too. we are, perhaps, unpalatable, in the same way that black coffee is unpalatable to those lacking the right palate.

i always wondered why my mother insisted on tasting the bitterness, relishing in the onyx liquid sliding down her throat.
i always wondered why my skin didn’t resemble hers, smooth and unblemished and light and beautiful.
i always wondered why the dark-skinned girls in the magazines always had to have tiny noses and skin as blemishless as fine china.

i wonder, now, why i am so dependent on the splash of cream and dash of cinnamon in my coffee.
i wonder why i’m so wary of the bitterness, of the darkness.

i took my coffee black today. i savored it sliding down my throat, smooth as velvet and not nearly as bitter as i’d thought.

I am a weak and frail body,
Taught to die for the sake of joy,
Self sustaining fluids attached by puppet strings,
The money breeds the monkey,
What it sees,
What it hears,
What it speaks,
While our hands are raised high,
The bullets feed our bellies,
There just isn't enough doctors,
As the drugs lead the charge,
Illegal beliefs have become truth,
But the grey lines have all vanished,
It's not a choice about who's side,
It's a surrender to the silence,
That was never listened to,
No longer will neglect aid nothing,
Sign by blood,
Spill your tears,
Know your fears and guilt,
The monkey's ears never closed.
The monkey's eyes never shut.
The monkey's voice never silent.