"crackheads" poems - Hello Poetry

We celebrate Juneteenth as if the war was not still being fought Across news stations and echoes of Jefferson's dreams The last slaves freed, but this country was never Reconstructed, just patched up just replaced Chains with debt, a Theseus ship of spoils pulled From the wreckage of **** And I sit the echoes of police sirens slung like clubs across the backs of the Boys that sat in my classroom and wondered Why every white person they met always had To yell so much. As if there was nothing at all to be exchanged besides recreating Hegel’s dialectic. As if the only way to win was in blood. And perhaps That is what Juneteenth really teaches us, that blood Shed long enough will lead to ghosts, whispered Warnings we ignore. As if a million bodies buried across The South was not enough of a reminder that we needed To **** to have the enslaved seen as people. We celebrate the Day we no longer had to bury bayonets in bodies To treat humans as humans. And they still can't see it. Don’t realize that if you take away the last plate of food, That if you turn off the power, that if the dollar can't fill the tank What comes from desperation is a blood-born tsunami full of the ghosts of dead racists and stolen children, full of collateral damage and crackheads hooked on crystal Sold to them by the CIA. This country cannot swallow the blood needed to clear its cup. But at least we gonna barbeque and vote, and Dream, and read. At least we gonna explain to the children that this was the day The last slaves were freed when there are still hungry mouths to feed. At least we gonna sit with Baldwin, or Miles, or Kendrick, and unhinge Our throats like snakes swallowing what the storms sing from suffering. At least we can carry that truth. If only for a day. If only to free the last Mind slaves still believing that the war is over, the dead silent, The constitution holy, the senate fair, the president controls gas prices, The bullet not already loaded, the school doors not already locked, The rich earned it, the news aint propaganda, the children martyrs The blood in our bodies not singing requiems to the pain of our ancestors, At least we gonna pretend that this country actually free.

0

Jun 17, 2022

Jun 17, 2022 at 5:48 AM UTC

eliot-greene

Juneteenth

We celebrate Juneteenth as if the war was not still being fought Across news stations and echoes of Jefferson's dreams The last slaves freed, but this country was never Reconstructed, just patched up just replaced Chains with debt, a Theseus ship of spoils pulled From the wreckage of **** And I sit the echoes of police sirens slung like clubs across the backs of the Boys that sat in my classroom and wondered Why every white person they met always had To yell so much. As if there was nothing at all to be exchanged besides recreating Hegel’s dialectic. As if the only way to win was in blood. And perhaps That is what Juneteenth really teaches us, that blood Shed long enough will lead to ghosts, whispered Warnings we ignore. As if a million bodies buried across The South was not enough of a reminder that we needed To **** to have the enslaved seen as people. We celebrate the Day we no longer had to bury bayonets in bodies To treat humans as humans. And they still can't see it. Don’t realize that if you take away the last plate of food, That if you turn off the power, that if the dollar can't fill the tank What comes from desperation is a blood-born tsunami full of the ghosts of dead racists and stolen children, full of collateral damage and crackheads hooked on crystal Sold to them by the CIA. This country cannot swallow the blood needed to clear its cup. But at least we gonna barbeque and vote, and Dream, and read. At least we gonna explain to the children that this was the day The last slaves were freed when there are still hungry mouths to feed. At least we gonna sit with Baldwin, or Miles, or Kendrick, and unhinge Our throats like snakes swallowing what the storms sing from suffering. At least we can carry that truth. If only for a day. If only to free the last Mind slaves still believing that the war is over, the dead silent, The constitution holy, the senate fair, the president controls gas prices, The bullet not already loaded, the school doors not already locked, The rich earned it, the news aint propaganda, the children martyrs The blood in our bodies not singing requiems to the pain of our ancestors, At least we gonna pretend that this country actually free.