Fires in ferguson
Bridges in Brooklyn
The youth in the streets cry out in unison
Hands up
Don't shoot
A young man took twelve bullets
Because he was brown
Battered bodies on the ground
This countries streets are paved in glass
and blood
The air we breath is tear gas
And polluted by discrimination
We are connected by rage
And in this day and age
We are convicted by fear
The civil servants drive armored vehicles
The oppressed pay takes to the oppressors
Who pays for the tank that the city bought?
Who pays for the policeman's bullets?
How hard is it to live without fear of death from your own government.
ISIS is less threatening
Than the grand jury
This story keeps coming back into our history books. Trayvon Martin,
Michael brown,
Emmet till
I am no longer proud to be american
We all live in
MISsouERiY

My heart bled ink
on the ivories
of the piano;
enveloping all white
in supreme darkness.

He painted every key
with careful, calculated words
that spat venom
to cover
to conceal
and to showcase
the superior identity
of the black keys.

Suffocating black drowned
strangled cries
as the white blended beneath
the black;
forced to play the same
sharp
note
while ignoring their own.

But music is harmony.
Without white, there is no melody.
As a monotonous sound resonated,
the black scrambled to recover
these voices --different,
soothing, rich in beauty--
have already broken.

And so the black keys play
--imbalanced, remorseful,
and forever imperfect.

oppression reigns
from above
unseen hellfire
a fallacy
can't be seen
so it is not there?

oppression exudes
from the ground
translucent, sticky
rise up and fight!
but always stuck
sinking down while
the tar fills open mouths

oppression is ingrained
in hearts blinded
by the masses
******* the lifeblood
from freely flowing veins

oppression is a paradox
making everything
too simple, too complex
too small, too big
too easy, too hard
closing in on both sides
follow the light
at the end of expression
lest you be crushed

A peaceful man in a belligerent nation
Delivering messages of hope station to station
Through words of power and words of encouragement
Supplying the spiritually needy with nourishment
Don't stop, because this place needs an uprising
Creativity is dead and authority is hypnotizing

Have you stared into the eyes of another?
And found yourself out of breath, out of time
Where your heart beats with a flutter
In the realm of beauty, in the face of divine
Where the world begins to slow
All aggression set aside
As the purest of thoughts consumes you
You have found love and I say it with pride.
How blackened must a heart be
To see it as unclean
To mutilate our most beautiful of feature
And do it all in the name of that unseen
Is it feral in its nature?
Is there not but lust they see?
Within their own hearts they know its joy
But in the hearts of my brothers they call it blasphemy
What fear is it that besieges them?
That crept into there mind at night
So that they may stand behind the powerful
To revel in there hatred to revel in there spite.
But do they think they face fragility
A surrender of all that is right
The truth of love is that it will always endure
That is its beauty that is its might.
Know that they are driven by fear
To that their cowardice bound
But I have seen the unity of love
No greater power can be found
Know that oblivion beckons
But it will be them who answer the call
But reach out your hand to meet them
And at last into this pit they will fall.
The world may seem black
Pitiless and cruel
But know there are some who will always stand beside you
Be assured it is the privilege of us all.

We attempt to victimize,
those who we believe tell us lies,
but we do not take time to sympathize,
instead we drown out their cries,
with thoughts of our future prize,
and how we will one day reach the skies,
and then we can be wise,
and attempt to apprise,
those who we once chastised,
but it is too late and it is us they despise,
they see no compromise,
as we are the cause of their demise,
it is too late to revise,
why do you show surprise?
when you stepped on their rise,
spouting **** like "everyone dies",
meanwhile your have grown in size,
thanks to stealing their supplies,
and murdering their allies,
all so you can excuse yourself from seeing the pain in their eyes.

I am the oppressed,
and you are the master,
holding me since birth,
as I am evolutions disaster.
I have a tendency for violent outbreaks,
created by institutionalized racism,
they say be "normal", there are choices...
yet within our beliefs there is a chasm.

For I was born without an option,
and went where I was led,
my only freedom was my adoption,
into the gangs for whom I bled.

While society cites me as a statistic,
I am just an average man,
pushed to the point of being sadistic,
because for the blacks there is no plan.

Do not group me with the heathens,
or make me out to be a sociopath,
I went where I saw life's beacons,
and as a child I was caught in that wrath.

Someday this will all end,
that day that I will be dead,
revolution will strike society,
like a bullet in the head.

The Oppression of my people
can not be summed up in one word

A word that flies
Flies like a hummingbird

He eats soup
As I cry

he prays
As I sigh

You Do not KNOW ME
You only know my struggle

How Dare You come to me?
In your time of Need.

You need a fixin?
God Bless Juan Dixon.

Mourn the Moon in the morning
for he had lost his night shift.
Let it be a warning
for the Sun shall rise at night.
Bright blinding darkness descend
on us, threatening to swallowing us
And every single star there is.

They'll be no wars,
just a simple surrender as
sunshine soldiers surround our souls
telling us our new roles.

What we thought we were,
we are not.
What we thought we weren't,
we are.
And if they say it,
it must be true

We act the polar opposite of ourselves
because of some solar energy,
some hot headed, gassed filled entity
has made us question our identities.

Is it our thoughts,
or actions,
that define us?
Our we confine to one,
or is the two combine?

I'm inclined to say:
I don't know.
I'm only learning how operate
in this world.

So many questions with no answers.
Just an obsession to understands
the oppression against us.

Doing so will hep us understand ourselves, right?

So send in the Sun,
mourn the Moon ,
and figure out the chaos born.
For soon it will be done with us.