#whiteness
If Heaven does exist,
I wonder if a sun shines there.
It seems an awfully cold place to me,
locked away behind those pearly gates,
supported by clouds.
I wonder if so much whiteness is good
for the soul, for the eyes, for the mind—
surely, there is some sort of fire up above
to balance that below.
I wonder if I would know the difference
between the heat of His love
and the heat of what He has created.
If Heaven does indeed exist,
I hope it is orange and yellow and red.
I hope it is warm.
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 8:19 PM UTC
Wanna be an all American!
As my corpse tries to jump out of it's dead brown skin
The fair foundation has been working again
Our experiences have been exactly the same!
Hearing your hesitancy in the pronunciation of this name
roll it out like the Princess Bride- all the words every time
Reinforcing this breath I will be the punchline but
Can you cry a god back into your heart
Rolling like thunder behind your own title
Whisper it back and then still be rid of the shame?
Decolonize a spirit with Raid™️
Keep only one tongue and let the other one fade
Jul 22, 2020
Jul 22, 2020 at 8:04 AM UTC
being proud to be black is more important than
slavery
money
insurance
whiteness
caution tape around a social construction zone
that is also an advertisement
also is a warning
advertisement
whiteness
warning
blackness
advertisement
warning
in another language
pay attention to this
if you do not then this will happen
whiteness or else!
Liberty
constitution
justice
whiteness or else!
screaming it
acting like its this pretty evolved thing to be
technologically advanced
to the ultimate in dissociative technology
Organic Intelligence knows within power struggle of language
advertisements and warnings are the same
Jul 29, 2016
Jul 29, 2016 at 2:31 AM UTC
the patrol car has left the block once more,
a bull shark circling
nearer to some shore, headlights
blared, a black silhouette steering the vehicle;
night kisses the horizon, pecks it sharp
like a bullet case
scraping the darkling pavement,
only the whitest stars visible above.
many like me stroll sidewalks at this hour,
smoking a stogie
or sitting on empty swings
in playgrounds vacant of laughter; it is better
that children sleep while they can and can dream
before the true night,
that blight of bruise blue, sirens
wailing on their way to steal away some dark man
from the streets. where I stand on an apartment stoop
I count the vehicle
for the fourth time, lurking
out around the corner, like a wolf dressed metallic.
nothing gets better come nightfall. nothing
gets done while asleep.
i slip on my shadow, hood
dark, concealing my face. lean back into the steps
and light another cigarette. inhale.
exhale. most don’t have
to worry: their paleness turns
them ghostly, invisible, to the patrolling cars.
but I wear my darkness. i wish I knew
how to make sparks fly,
have them issue from throat, crack
into splinters of glass. the law tells me to sit
but I refuse. i am a phosphorus
fuse; i am whitened;
but i am impoverished,
and I too have my own reasons to be frightened.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 12:48 PM UTC
the clay watched with rented breath
the red robe genuflect before
the dirt-dark nailed wood.
strange words were uttered
choral echoes flew
they too would bend their knees
those veiled long hair
those oval faces with scanning eyes.
the red robe spoke
they moved the corners of their mouths
till they were too far
they nodded, and nodded, and nodded
they did not know how to stop.
the red robe did not speak
he read from two slabs.
the air cracked by a
tip-toe cadence of metallic muttering
they held their breath
but there was panting.
with one unseen flicker
that stole as fast as
light shot from up beyond
there
perched on that dirt-dark nailed wood
a dove of light of blinding vaporous whiteness.
we hid our eyes.
our faces too.
we only saw a tall slender spiral staircase
that ascended a long, long,
long way.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 9:31 PM UTC
I am worth being valued for existing
Not only in the moments
That I become relevant, necessary, or useful
For lustful, celebratory or inspirational insanity
I am not a lollipop or an exotic destination
Stop exploring me *************
Because you salivate over this Hispaniola
Beautiful island desecrated and decimated
How many beautiful spirits will you make savages
How many pure rivers will you **** blood on
How many conquests will you claim a stake in
How much balance will you disturb and subjugate
to the trauma of your transitory exploration
There's no impunity for conquerors
Who taste, plunder, disguise disapproval in their apologies and move on
There's no impunity for conquerors
Who pick and choose who's worth
Of validation, when, & how
There's no impunity for conquerors
Who play with men and women
Hierarchize their prey
But fail to acknowledge
Their man-child whitewashed
Hidden agendas & rigged market values
Conquerors haunted by the trauma they've caused
Will not be absolved by the revolution
Neither will the revolution be the breast
That heals conquers who are traumatized
By the realization of their own fuckery
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 5:29 AM UTC