hold up
let's keep it real
I see you weaving through the masses
pockets full of whatever
of whatever grabbed your attention
this week
now all you can do
is hope you don't
get caught
trying hard not to show your guilt
clawing at any minute chance
of an escape from the powerful
from the confinement brought upon you
against your will
against America's will
walking slow enough to seem unaffected
but quick enough not to draw suspicion
you're a coward
you're a thief
someone should take you out
"but my kids", you say
"but my girl is struggling", you plead
"but my ma is dying", you cry
"but I lost my job and-" handcuffs
sirens
shame
publicity
rough
life is freaking rough
now all you can do
is hope you don't
get shot
hold up

No Justice. No Peace.
We're killed for jaywalking,
But are expected to remain at ease.

We're seen as looters.
When terrorists are heroes.
And never unjust shooters.

They "protect and serve."
They protect each other.
Whether its inhumane doesn't matter.
Then they serve morgues...
with young black bodies on shiny silver platters.

They don't want to hear us.
So we're told to remain peaceful because it's easier to ignore a sound that isn't being made.

And if we remain quiet the passion for wrong doings will begin to fade.

Black people are ashamed of each other for rioting in their own community. But it doesn't belong to us.  So feel free to burn down gas stations and break the windows out of a Toys"R"Us.

We'll be executed in suits. We'll be executed in sweats. We'll be executed when we're armed and We'll be executed when we pose no threat.

So scream if you have to.
Let it all out.
Fight fire with fire.
It will grow, and eventually someone will put it out.

Because remaining peaceful has gotten us nowhere.

When we're peaceful they don't care. They torment us. And we're mocked. And are attacked with tear gas while rubber and wooden bullets are being shot.

So don't shoot. But when you need to. Shoot back.
I want us to be able to raise children who won't be murdered for being big while black.

And it isn't in the U.S.A.
Where Unjust Shootings are Admissible.
And Uniformed Shooters are Admired.

So fight back. Even though we're already so tired.

No Justice. No Peace.
We're killed for jaywalking,
But are expected to remain at ease.

We're seen as looters.
When terrorists are heroes.
And never unjust shooters.

They "protect and serve."
They protect each other.
Whether its inhumane doesn't matter.
Then they serve morgues...
with young black bodies on shiny silver platters.

They don't want to hear us.
So we're told to remain peaceful because it's easier to ignore a sound that isn't being made.

And if we remain quiet the passion for wrong doings will begin to fade.

Black people are ashamed of each other for rioting in their own community. But it doesn't belong to us.  So feel free to burn down gas stations and break the windows out of a Toys"R"Us.

We'll be executed in suits. We'll be executed in sweats. We'll be executed when we're armed and We'll be executed when we pose no threat.

So scream if you have to.
Let it all out.
Fight fire with fire.
It will grow, and eventually someone will put it out.

Because remaining peaceful has gotten us nowhere.

When we're peaceful they don't care. They torment us. And we're mocked. And are attacked with tear gas while rubber and wooden bullets are being shot.

So don't shoot. But when you need to. Shoot back.
I want us to be able to raise children who won't be murdered for being big while black.

And it isn't in the U.S.A.
Where Unjust Shootings are Admissible.
And Uniformed Shooters are Admired.

So fight back. Even though we're already so tired.

Brown Eyes
deep inside the piercing brown eyes
is a world that i would like to be mine
using them to see the clear blue sky above
the green grass that glows below
what is on the other side thats greener
who knows cause what I see is better
I can feel our bodies intertwining with each other
Is the universe telling us that we should be together
because we see eye to eye and our third one even stronger
I want you in my life and I can’t wait any longer

sweet bright eyes, what can i say?
i wouldn't lie to you if i told you that your light led me down this way.
sweet amber eyes, why can't i stay?
maybe it's better that my heart is nothing more than your prey.

celestial, copper eyes, with lashes that shadow like a veil,
a stare, a glare, physique that could never compare.
lustrous, luminous eyes with the allure of a panther,
it didn't take long to see your eyes bore the answer.

i shake and shiver.
sweet brown eyes, make my soul quiver.
serrated lashes that stab like knives;
sweet bright eyes,
become my soul's reprise

The red circled thing
Owned the hands of time
It stopped and ogled at me
Our eyes met, and he snubbed.

He is vital to me
That I can’t live
Without even looking at him
The space he knows,
And I was left dumbfounded how he knows.

He owned the twelve sections
Clinched it with glass,
I thought he’s atypical
For his hands were not two but three
Now, I’m baffled of his identity.

He was quiet for days
But I needed him somehow
I wish to own him ceaselessly
But he’s running to fast.

Even if he’s staggered
He’s still making his shift
Working for others
Wouldn’t stop at any moment.

Farewell my friend,
I disgust it, gazing at you
My calendar was so rigid, so tight
Then you left me at night
Adieu, owner of time!

(2/21/14 @xirlleelang)