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Jonathan Moya Nov 2020
All you wicked men
what is wrong with you?

There is no black Justice
seen on the Sistine Chapel.

Only the stupidities that
can make a stuff bird laugh-

the small axe ready
to cut the big tree down.

Based loosely on theSteve McQueen anthology  of films.  The first in the series is titled Mangrove.  The title is from a Bob Marley song.
Patrick Ramsey Nov 2020
Pursuit of justice and Gold

Giving it all away
Saying words with purpose
A search for justice
A black man standing on the bus
Righteous indignity
Look at me
Is this what it means to be free
Is this pursuit of happy
Or is this life just ******
Look at me
And what do you see
Do you see a color or do you see a name?
Or just someone to blame
Do you see a man with hope
Or do you see a man struggling to cope
Do you offer a hand or hang a rope
Can you love someone like me
Or can that never be
Look as far as the eye can see
People living in misery
Why is change so slow
Where did decency go
Swim against the flow
Sometimes it’s hard to let go
Which way the wind will blow
On this journey I will go
It’s keep playing or fold
It’s everyone wanting some gold
It’s about ******* so old
It’s about the power you hold
Old white and grey hair
Controlling markets everywhere
You don’t want to share
You don’t care
This is not fair
I’m a man, same as you
I have hopes and dreams too
I’m the same as you
Au Oct 2020
I do not know how
they have aged so well
having to carry such
obnoxious facades

outlining the garments
of their sleeves
every night, wondering
if it's too small or too large

to the thought of misfits,
with the color they have
grown weary of

dark times
that made them feeble;
enough to make them grow
lips that sparks war

telos or end;
to finally defend that
black cats are not bad omens
and so are black people
If Beale Street Could Talk
Novel (1974)
by James Baldwin
Tuffy Mutombo May 2020
What is Justice

What is justice
Does it have a color,
does it have a temperature
The blacker the shooter the louder the news
The tighter the noose
Equality seems to download slower
for those it doesn’t favor
Section 8 flats raise ghetto minded soldiers
Trained to live in prison cells
While leaving empty sits in classrooms
Mothers raising fathers
because their fathers left them,
now live in prisons,
physically, emotionally & mentally
That means when they have their kids they will probably leave them

What Is Justice
Generational curses bless the defenseless
Praising violence because slave masters
Programmed them to hate knowledge
Think less and work more labour after labour
While slave masters stole roots away from their family trees,
then told them to go figure out their identities,
Black Kings and Queens demoralized and carried in shackles, to rebel they now wear more ice than a cold fridge,
painted in movies as villains but have more knowledge than those that run universities, but stuck behind the walls of justice fighting all kinds of adversities,
like starting a race with no legs to run with,
stuck in one place, asking themselves what is justice

What is Justice
Is justice a word we chase in a world imprisoned by the thought of equality?
it doesn’t work if it doesn’t end in a tragedy, wearing hoodies, selling cigarettes, simply driving, could determine the end of you, living everyday under pressure like living through an interview, or facing the end of a loaded barrow,
Yelling please don’t shoot, while the one holding the gun comes to take your tomorrow, these black tears have cried till they have ran dry, social justice tried and still couldn’t change justice
now we challenge the notion of which life matters more, black or blue
This world got no clue
acting like history never took place, in a race of race, forgetting those who sacrificed for us to win the global race
how much more should the dark skinned give to get an ounce of freedom

What is justice
Is justice a word or a curse to the darker skinned, is justice determined based on one’s pigmentations, causing deeply rooted segregation, “all man are created equal” but we forgot about the sequel, in the end it tells us that we are not equal...

So... What is justice?
I can’t believe that this kind of injustice is still relevant in today’s world. We have to do better.
Genduk May 2020
Another Tinder match
supposed we hike to bromo mountain
If not to suffer me

neighbor country guy
Where jaded is the least people be
lives in a bunkbed dorm room
For months and months
Certified to put judgement
on strangers

He studies everyone
But locals
Talks in languages
but local's

He's interested in story of stragers
But not my story
Too local maybe

One lunch in a local's
I lend him lunch money
He never thinks he owes me
A thing

He sits there on the corner
Reading people's story
Those whose land made
By foreign spices, coal, and sweats
Like me
Chrissy Ade Dec 2019
I am the product of two distant worlds
But my tongue dances with only one
In my dreams, I hear my Mother’s cries
Praying for her lost daughter’s return
I am too much for one country to swallow
But not enough for the other’s acceptance
Yet here I stand, with my heart in the middle
Of a custody battle with unclear intentions
I cannot choose between the two
Without erasing half of my story
I cannot undo all this writing
Stained on my blood and bones
This heart, of plantains and sweet tea,
Fights a war inside her own body
I’m unsure of where to call home
When I’m not wanted by either country
As a daughter of immigrants, this poem is very personal and dear to my heart. I don't know if I will ever fit into either place but it was nice to put these feelings into words
Alexander Miller Apr 2019
Crack the whip again, make me see the cultural defeat.
And as I breathe help me understand.  Why, within my shaking hands.
I can feel the relapse of my bated breath, at this point I don’t know what’s left.
My screams are nothing. Even as my blood within the soil says something.
It teaches a powerful lesson. That even as centuries progress slavery is still a weapon.
The pain I feel never delays, doesn’t even fade away. Because as I retie my shirt, it’s still stained within my hurt. They look at me indifferent. Not because of me limping. My melanated skin. Is what determines my fate, even without my own sin. I was born into a loving family. My only regret is them not informing me of my reality. I can see the difference now, between me and you. Even 200 years later, you have a judgment free path to choose. I used to view my skin as a scar. Separating me from who I really want to be. But once I saw my little girls killed in my own car. It changed my knowledge of who you really are. You are missing a chunk of empathy. Something that’s lost to me. How a person so alike me but so different can commit an act so belligerent. I once wanted to be you. Now that’s a thought I can’t even begin to chew. That’s when I was reminded that we are different. Please listen, I try to cringe on the sour taste of liking you. I was stuck to the binding of it like glue. Now I realize what I was doing. I seemed to be willingly choosing to invite the devil into my home. No More!!!
Loving you was a exhausted chore. One I kept repeating, only thinking your heart would start beating.
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