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Au Oct 16
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
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 24
This guy i met
A long time ago through
My Tinder match
Who once asked me
To hike to bromo mountain
If not to suffer me

Back to the guy
He came to the city
Where jaded is the least people be
Stayed in a bunkbed dorm room
For months and months
Held Ph.d in psychology
He says

Mingles to the foreign tourists
Speaks foreign language only
Mostly English
He studies everyone
But locals

He's interested in their story
But not my story

He owed me luch money
I thought it's nothing
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.
Amoy Feb 2018

The burning sensation of those word were hard to digest
Sorrow, Tear, How ugly can I be
Black is Beauty I say…to whom they say

Midnight! Midnight!.. you are as dark as Midnight
I'm haunted by those words, As they stuck to me like fresh sap from a tree..
I’m drowning, I’m drowning, I can’t get free, those words will forever trail me..

They trailed me; they jarred me, Blackie Tutu! Blackie Tutu!
How can kids be so cruel using skin color as a tool
I held my own and stayed cool for I knew has long I was in this school my fate was doom.

Pickey-Pickey head! was the melody of the song
I listened allowing the word to sink into my soul
The beat made me sick and I knew this one would also stick
I Looked up to the sky wondering why
No! No! No! Woman don’t cry
Be an African and hold your pride…

Hands by my side, I held my head up high
I found the fight within me, Stone faced Killer bee
I faced the music and it set me free
On the attack I had them flee…using word to conquer thee
I carried on knowing freedom wasn’t free and then
Like bolt of lightning it occurred me  
To defeat them I had to BELIEVE in ME
He approaches, from a completely different background.
He sees an odd, irregular image
Minding its own business.

He approaches and the image moves.
The irregular image faces him as he admires it.
It is smothered in beauty,
So much, but he doesn't understand it.

She, the image, sees him too.
She falls in love with his body's outline,
But when he steps into the light,
She doesn't understand her love anymore.

Mutual love was clouded by race.

Eventually, they learned to love their differences.
They created art through their differences;
Contrasting colours thrived in their newly ordained similarities - obtained through love.

Multi-racial relationships are the artwork of humankind.
Multi-racial relationships excite me. They remind me that even the most different people can still thrive together despite their differences. But, I'm not one to partake because I feel that it's too much for me. There's a huge amount of responsibility needed in respect and consideration.
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