I sit alone in an English garden And gaze in awe at sunset sky Where colours paint a masterpiece So exquisite to the eye From deep maroons to orange fire It fades into a yellow fan And sprinkles specks of fading clouds That sink to rendezvous with dawn And as I marvel at this display In silence and at evening's rest I think of those so far away Undergoing violent fiery test Across the sea and over time A million voices rage and cry At evil acts by law's decree That can no longer be denied Where justice is not black and white And hate's hunger is so overfed For authority is on white pages In ink that reads a ****** red An army of intolerance A brotherhood of hate Bedecked by badge of bludgeoning And tazer in each state Crushing spirit and stealing peace While demanding our respect While shocking limbs and rocking lives And kneeling on the neck Instilled with warped ideology That debases human mind Tainted white superiority And so divided of humankind But where is hate's validity? How is it justified? Where is their authority To harrass and to divide? For none can claim to be the first To be the proudest purest race For America was full of colour Before Europe found that place Did these men not swear an oath To “disharge faithfully and well” And defend all citizens equally And truth to uphold and to tell? And did they not seal their oath With promise solemn and divine Proclaiming liberty and devotion “So help me God” the final line! And what do we know of our creator Is he so hard and partial too? Is God's likeness just caucasian Or is his love both fair and true His words are there for all to see In the Bible's pages plain and clear That God does not show favouritism But loves all those who hold Him dear For when the greatest artist made The races that dwell on earth today He used a pallet and brush of life And a million colours to stroke and splay For this world is not black and white Nor grey or dull and monochrome But is crowned with dazzling glorious colours No shade is missing, no not one So if it pleases God to paint This earth in colours of his love Then surely skin of many colours Must be a gift of God above So please Mr Police Officer Before you terrorize more souls Because their skin is not like yours Be sure you know your cause and goal For it is not for liberty Nor for honour that you whack And do not think that God approves Of your vile and prejudiced attacks For you dishonour that badge you wear And the land that you protect And with every blow you turn to black You **** the law and lose respect And in case you think me biased And writing to support my kind Please know I am male and white And just like God, I'm colour-blind
For all of my black brothers and sisters worldwide
America has never been great. Built on the backs of stolen people on stolen land. We’re a melting ***, they say, a conglomeration of cultures and ethnicities, But words mean nothing, when time and time again our neighborhoods are filled with injustice, Our streets only know carnage. Our protectors unleash violence upon civilians and our leaders continue to justify acts of brutality.
America is on fire And the smoke clears and dawn breaks, We will continue to fight for a new beginning.
In the Charleston marketplace, a boutique auctions off detailed limited edition replicas of black history: a slave who hugs his chains upright over his porcelain hands, is sold for $1200.00 to a man with a black Amex card, a horde listening to the Emancipation Proclamation goes for the same amount, Malcolm X gets $1000.00, MLK just a little less, the OJ bobble heads sell for $60.00 in the store’s gift shop while the white Bronco in slow pursuit complete with flashing police lights and breathless live commentary garners $2400.00, Rosa Parks languishes at the rear eventually getting $300.00, Eric Garner, Treyvon Martin, Rodney King are part of lot sold for $500.00 clearance and a free Black Lives Matter T-shirt, George Floyd gasping out “I can’t breathe,” enshrined in a porcelain halo nabs the same price, while the last figurine, of his murderer being embraced by a very happy Donald Trump is purchased by a man in a MAGA hat for $10,000.00.
she cries in shattered glass, in the open spaces where the dye was cast. a world so white, so drenched in paint, the ones now deaf once were saints. and when the black came out to say a counterfeit bill a jog a day- light crime so bold so crazy it made the streets hazy with smoke. equality sounds a lot like a hoax the war brushed away with nothing but Twitter tear gas and bullets are so much fitter, bitter is the taste of deafness upon a lost society. abandoned, forgotten, stomped on and out no wonder some have forgotten their law abiding piety. white paint becomes pink when mixed with blood. pink is a color for little girls, and fits perfectly with the sound of our world.
George. Ahmaud. Breonna. We love you. Rest in peace.
Black is a colour often we misread, according to evolution, most superior human, it means. All the dominant alleles flushed into one, and still the recessive ones are able to prey upon in day’s sun. What have they done no body questions, we are white, they are black, kills all the discussions. Leads to the final stage where death is the reward, for something that is genetic, it is pretty rough accord. All the people then come together, still the predator walks freely, what has happened to humans, have they lost all the emotional ability? I stand with victims, you should too, as for no one is black nor is white, everything and everyone is grey even in day’s light.
This is a verse for George This is a poem for Philando This is a memory of Oscar Continuing the fight for Malcolm Venerating the wisdom of Martin This is a call to action Even if just a fraction Causes this cause to gain traction For people tired of the inaction The people have spoken And decades have passed Nothing has changed Protesters still getting gassed With years behind them Trying to stay quiet One ****** Two murders A thousand It's no surprise That this protest is now a riot Flames flitting in and out of frame Guns glinting as bootlickers offer more of the same Tin badges holding themselves As above the rest of us I scream in disgust What gives you the right To ****** my neighbors? What gives you the right To brutalize my friends? These fires ignite a memory And makes me sing Noting the similarity To Martin, and also Rodney king I'll stop now My angry rambling I'll leave you with a quote Most would think It was said by Malcolm But it was said by Dr. King It's not absurd He said it "A riot is the language of the unheard" That is the wisdom of Martin That's why we continue to fight for Malcolm That's why I remember Oscar I wrote this poem for Philando I wrote this verse for George