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Chicken 7d
He lived within his own little world
and when he came out,
He
Made
A Mess.
This might be a mini rant.
Count or stop to count
7, 6, 5… then silence.
Started from the one to countless

Fatally wounded, again inequitable ethnic
the trumpet sound of trauma
In a private car, but this was
not a public performance

7 bullets transmit the pride and prejudice
Police have millions of reasons to suspect,
but we criticize the moon—
tonight it’s dark as hell in a drawer.

Count or stop to count
5,6,7… then gun violence.
His truth is lazy
and infinite as broken glass.

You are in our prayers— we pray infinitely.
We would like to have
a brave trumpet show for ourselves—
Deep sorrow, tumultuous but informative.
Although there will be more details from the Wisconsin police, on 23.August, police shot a Black man in the back seven times, it launched a now all-too-familiar avalanche of reaction.according to officials and a bystander’s video of the incident that has been virally shared. Blake survived, but his family’s attorney said he is paralyzed from the waist down.
the media endlessly repeat
a video with a white police officer
kneeling on a handcuffed black guy
who keeps saying “I can’t breathe”
until he dies

******* of violence
of the worst kind
makes you feel guilty
     like a ******
both repelled and fascinated

racist ****** perpetrated
     blatant
     in full sight
by one whose badge claims
he protect you from harm

outrageous
In memory of the ****** of George Floyd by a Minneapolis police officer
Moomin Jun 4
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
Tom Salter Jun 2
9 minutes in ****, spent
pleading for rights the world has
failed to give him, but the white man
won't listen as long as he’s on that racist
coloured mission - hell bent at the knee;
snap, crack and one final bark as a shade
of black is smashed, into the sharp, hard
ground of the world he once trod, cherished
and loved - so, please don't be silent, pick up
what is left at the pavement, a human life
taken, shackled, name-cuffed to a
movement that should have never
been needed, but it now rises out
of a community shattered,
to defend those lives that
should have always
mattered.
FinkZ Jun 1
Why did you used violence
When he doesn’t have weapons?
Why did you used violence
And left all his children
Fatherless?

I wonder what is with the brutality
Choked a helpless man on the street
He was willing to do your order, let go of your knee
When he said he can’t breathe

Why did you used violence
Without any good reason?
Why did you used violence
When he was innocent?

Why did you used violence
Is it because he is a black person?
Now it’s not your concern
Because now he can breathe peacefully in heaven
I read the news about George Floyd and I watched the video, and it got me crying. R.I.P George Floyd
Touché May 29
Black

Is it a crime to be black? Should i be castigated for my skin color?
Am I less of a human? Or is the fear that I am more? I’ll leave that for later.

They say black lives matter but does it really? They say their neighbours are black, that their barber down the road is black. They try to relate to everything black except what it actually means to be black.

The white eye don’t see what the black eye sees. The white life don’t don’t feel what the black life feels.
How can you play down a fear that you don’t feel? A fear that you instilled.

Tomorrow isn’t promised but that doesn’t give you the right to take away my tomorrow today.
I tell my kids they are the leaders of tomorrow but that is if that they can get through today.

The victims could have me or you. Sadly could still be. Think of the ones that have been brushed aside, with no camera or evidence to prove a thing. Think of the pain caused over the years. The worst part is? This is not a one-off, painfully It is just a matter of time before this happens again.

So do not tell me how to feel. I don’t tell you *******. But it does seem like you do pick and choose who to ****. Would you still be you if you could pick? That is for you to answer. The blood that you’ve spilled, it’s time for you to answer.
If we are picking and choosing I would pick repeatedly to be

Black
In My House
by Michael R. Burch

When you were in my house
you were not free—
in chains bound.

Manifest Destiny?

I was wrong;
my plantation burned to the ground.
I was wrong.

This is my song,
this is my plea:
I was wrong.

When you are in my house,
now, I am not free.

I feel the song
hurling itself back at me.

We were wrong.
This is my history.

I feel my tongue
stilting accordingly.

We were wrong;
brother, forgive me.

Published by Black Medina. Keywords/Tags: racism, racist, slavery, chains, plantation, burned, house, free, freedom, history, forgive, forgiveness, brother, brotherhood, understanding, tolerance, equality, justice
Mark Oct 2019
My blues they come from those cotton days
Black slaves bought by southern racist ways
Cruel white leaders, and if our lips were to loose
This would be our ending with a tight rope noose

Simple chords, with lyrics of choice
A wealthy white boy searching for voice
Colored teaching whites, but ends with abuse
Everything ending with a tight rope noose

I brought my blues from the cotton days
Black folks appalled by others racist ways
Country of white leaders, if our lips were to loose
Everything ending with a tight rope noose

Sad child from the city mansion practices inside
A coloured mans tune on his mind, while pool-side
Racist born father with rules and abuse
Everything ending with a tight rope noose
Mark Oct 2019
They once had Auction and ***** Sale signs, just up ahead
******* were sold dirt cheap and were going home bled
Branded them slaves, even made ‘em dig their own grave
Southern folk, had bragging’ rights, but not all brave
Did a whole lot more, than work the plantation cotton fields
History dare not repeat, that of which, the past conceals

They were once leanin’ towards a war path
They were paid, if they worked on da railway
They were laid, if they worked on da good day
They were beat, if they were to ever disobey
They were hung, if they were to ever astray
They got strong, then blew the white trash away
They got slack, then inhaled the white gangsta pathway
They are now lookin’ forward to the sunny daze

They then had war and peace signs, just up above
Groupies were told rock hard and don’t go falling in love
Branded them playmates, even made ‘em find more babes
Rock superstars, had bragging’ rights, but not all spades
Don’t know a whole lot more, about what Woodstock reveals
History dare not repeat, that of which, the past feels

They were once leanin’ towards a war path
They were paid, if they worked on da railway
They were laid, if they worked on da good day
They were beat, if they were to ever disobey
They were hung, if they were to ever astray
They got strong, then blew the white trash away
They got slack, then inhaled the white gangsta pathway
They are now lookin’ forward to the sunny daze

They now have entry and exit signs, just up there
Wealthy were told to gate up and don’t go walking anywhere
Branded them snobbish, even made ‘em buy brands online
Ghetto gangsta’s, had bragging’ rights, but not all offline
Don’t know a whole lot more, about what society dreams
History dare not repeat, that of which, the past achieves

They were once leanin’ towards a war path
They were paid, if they worked on da railway
They were laid, if they worked on da good day
They were beat, if they were to ever disobey
They were hung, if they were to ever astray
They got strong, then blew the white trash away
They got slack, then inhaled the white gangsta pathway
They are now lookin’ forward to the sunny daze.
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