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call me momma Sep 2016
We lived through song.
Church hymns, jazz, and folk music.
We jirated, danced, and moved to any beat we could.
Because when we moved, our minds were at peace.
We didn't think.
Didn't think of our children being murdered.
Beaten.
Lynched.
Burned.

White America will tell us that period of history is over.
But I know it to be untrue.

Because I still see our children being murdered.
Killed in cold blood.
Left to bleed out in the streets.
Only this time,
people aren't gathering in groups.
They're not rioting against us.


Happening all over the globe,
cops are turning into murderers.

A boy who stole a cigarillo,
shot dead point blank in the head.

A man with an open carry permit,
shot in the chest with his baby in the back seat.

A woman going to jail for a broken headlight,
hung by jail guards.

I don't recognize my country anymore.
i just needed to get some feelings out tbh
Erin Suurkoivu Sep 2016
What are these bodies, these
limbs, giving up their sap
and heat? Who decides
who dies, who lives?

What is cut down is
cut down, and
bereft children
grow in their place.
Dark n Beautiful Sep 2016
Earth to earth, Oh ashes to ashes and dust to dust,
How strange, how familiar, human connection is untrusted
when we awake, each passing day, knowingly that by sunset
Those words would be read out loud
Over an innocent, black brother’s grave site tonight
Too many tears, too many mishaps
who scattered those bullet caps,

Too, many innocent lives have been taken
By the hand of the nervous police,
Even The birds keep gliding in the air shows solidarity
In respect of the dead:
Some human wish they were like them they said.
A charge is one thing. A conviction is another
Black lives does matter.
Who pulled the trigger, which got the last laugh?
The innocent or the victims

More weeks of demonstration,
the fight for the white house continues with words not arms
Blood in the Inner City Streets, subways
and shopping malls, bias and frustration, sound the alarms

Who pulled the trigger, which got the last laugh?
The guns, or the victims,

My poetics tone this morning.
voice your opinion
Debra Lea Ryan Sep 2016
I Love a Tangerine Sky
On Sunset or Sunrise
A Warm Calming Canvas
Stretched Far and Wide
Etched In Lives  Forever.

DLR
13/09/2016
Arcassin B Sep 2016
By Arcassin Burnham

In all seriousness I've became what I was
Afraid of being in the beginning,
Was never in the line of winning,
Been a loser all my life while making
Choices that create the bad moments,
That I Almost forgot about sinning,
In all seriousness, I'm starting realize that
Life and love is shorter than our fingertips
That reach the stars whenever we need
Jesus,
And they say "you're very blunt aren't you?"
And I say well take a walk in my shoes
Theres nothing worse than fresh Cuts,

/

I could die a thousand deaths but at my own
Expense,
Gotta pay the price to make it right with Moses again,
There will always be some recarnation of anything that you fear or you
Cherished while your life was at the beginning stages playing
Constant melodies and buying into propaganda,
Lines are being crossed for taking everything you stand for with a set
Of hands and a heavy heart who has ya',
So listen to the paster cause he knows the trials that come with living,
Giving you obstacles and lower pensions,
There's no God like the god I know that is based on ascension,
Death only settles the score not a cost of extension.
©ABPoetry2016
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/09/youre-very-blunt-arent-you.html
ShFR Aug 2016
This isn't Rome
I'm standing still because of statutes
Stone grill: I a carved marble statue
not a muscle dares,

Near frozen by the fear,
let it go I hear
over shoulder: perfect pass
if I get shot over a penalty

Is it clear?
my arms are arms?
a load chopper; in his shades,
do those aviators make me even darker?
(if I studied aviation I could take off I can hover, I can…)

Wait.
he's moving closer,
every hair strand an antenna,
I can feel him,

The smell of disdain on his glare,
stained blood on his hands,
another brother,
my brother

Guiltier with every pace so
--  show your hands,
foot mixed with concrete
I take this order serious,
my motions are motive
and mistaken for resist,

Wait.
Is it his stare or am I ******?
(Why did I decide to go my friends wouldn't believe this…)

limitations to the thoughts;
am I arrested or caught?

I'm cold on the surface,
Erode so slow is my sediment evidence,
A blue god so I'm pacified,
I'm hesitant,

he calls and I say that I'm innocent,
I'm witnessing
the transitioning from eruption to ocean
-- volcanic

Blue Medusa,
can you only sculpt destruction?
(I'm not 3 dimensional, I'm real and I matter, I'm real and I matter)

I'm real,
But I shatter,

Gravel if determined that I'm rude so I can't breath,
Gravel if My license plate removed I don't leave,
I don't speak,
I don't flee,
I'm not free,
I believe,
That this happen to my mothers, mother
mothers' brother,

Brother from another was granite
and granted he's valuable
but only in a home
-- of course

I'm quartz in the making
A corpse still shaking
Cause a wallet was mistaken
Or I.D. was misplaced

So, I'm on the rocks
since the bar says that I'm a criminal,
velvet rope divider marks my life
and a vigil,

a wake,
or a hashtag,
you choose,
glass house,
Cold Stone’s,
rocky road,
Medusa licks his finger tips

same finger which
petrified me in the first place,
Reminded I'm in Rome
as I'm standing there motionless

a statue for display
or a trophy for the kitchen,
this art is not for sale
there will be no shipping,

With solidarity
through our solidification,
It won't matter if I look back,
I Matter and I’m Black.
© 2016 by S Fraz All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of S Fraz
From my finger tips to my elbow
my arms are covered in paint.
They are all different colors,
but the idea is the same,
to create something beautiful,
a sunset, a rain shower .
an old pine tree or a flower.
I don't paint with anger,
I paint with love
I paint with my heart,
shouldn't that be enough
I see beauty in what could be
But so many before me have written it out
what beauty is supposed to be
One color, don't mix, separate, don't  fix.
Yes one color can be beautiful,
and one can be bright.
But one without the others,' seems like a very plain sight
Why do we separate one from the other, why do we try to moderate one from another color.
The world around us is changing and yes we wont be hear forever
but we can stay together if we could only love  one another
Aoife Jul 2016
when i say black lives matter,
i'm saying all lives matter
but right now our white people
aren't being murdered
for earning extra money for their families
or for a broken taillight,
it is the black people who are murdered
for representing all that is human
black lives are the lives
that are buried in the ground
and painted on white faces
because they're going to a music festival.
black lives are the lives
that result in names
printed in fine print,
displayed by candles and tears,
they are the lives
men in blue take each day
because their job
is to serve and protect.
who are you serving and protecting?
take your blue suit off
and put on a kkk robe
because the oath that you took
is not the oath you are practicing.
so when i say black lives matter,
i am saying there is a great injustice
i am saying save those people
i am saying our brothers and sisters are dying
i am saying they are our family.
all lives cannot matter
until black lives do.
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