I want to fall in love with an artist
I think I want to marry one too
I can see him now
Taking pictures of me
From birds eye view
While I'm sleep in bed

These are things I think of as I fall asleep in bed.
My son sleep pon me
& our hearts beat
In unison
And I dream of a love where I'm free
A love that is not blind
A love that can see

Is it possible to
"Rest in Peace"
when your life was stolen by
the powers that be?

When you lived a short life,
getting ***** and tortured?
being gaslit and hated?
When they **** you and rule it a suicide

It ain't all black and white,
this is deeper than race

A statement that'll have every shade, red in the face
But I wear my red and black with grace

Don't know what to believe but they show me the way
****** up that you're gone and they don't cry cause thats soft
but Im at the altar with the kids and our eyes are waterfalls

At night Im sipping tequila tears and singing songs nobody wants to hear cause the tune is of a tone that is so clear, a tone of defiance and sorrow and abolished fear.

I mean why fear death? My ancestors overtook slave ships and still put themselves to rest. Id rather die fighting for whats right than get murdered on standby.

So yes, you can rest in peace. but only when you make yourself the authority
Affirming that the powers that be are harnessed with in me.

When your 9 year-old can explain the difference between gun shots and fireworks.
This **** is so heartbreaking.
Emotionally devastating.
To be in a position where you can’t protect your child’s innocence...
When gunshots play like a soundtrack throughout the night...
When white supremacists have infiltrated your community to **** you...
When 911 has been hacked...
-Ayo Khamila

A man driving a semi truck down a closed highway towards thousands of kneeling peaceful protestors was not an accident.

My wife and I were there. I was absolutely overwhelmed by the love and solidarity I felt from the community as we chanted for justice—an elderly Black man with a walking cane telling me about how he’s still in the struggle for his grand babies; families honking and throwing up fists from their cars; teens dancing and singing; folks handing out water bottles and food. We marched from US Bank Stadium to the middle of highway 35W and knelt for a moment of silence for George Floyd.

As we were still on the ground, many of us kneeling and sitting, I glanced behind me to abruptly see panicking and screaming. We jumped up and dispersed with the crowd. All I could think of was finding my wife and protecting her. We clung to each other and ran as far off of the highway as we could. Within minutes, dozens of police vehicles showed up and, as we stood in shock at the edge of the highway, one vehicle needlessly sprayed us with mace. Choking and sneezing, we hopped a nearby fence to get even farther away.

As we walked down town to get to our car, already frazzled, folks kept warning us not to go down certain streets because they saw armed white supremacists waiting.

Thankfully, good friends came and gave us a ride to our car. We’re home and safe now.

I say all this to let folks know our message of justice and peace is being strategically infiltrated by white supremacists and police officers. This isn’t anything new. This has always happened throughout history. Plenty of others will confirm this has happened and is continuing to happen.

My body is tense and my system is on fire. I feel angry—yet resilient and determined. Because I know there are more people taking care of each other and working to end systems of oppression than there are people trying to incite violence and fear. And I believe that we will win.

-Joseph Micheal Davis

#BlackLivesMatter #JusticeForGeorgeFloyd

I rode down my old street tonight
Walton Place is the finest street in N Mpls
Its a dead end street, deeper than it seems
You can't just keep going down that street
You always gotta leave
4 houses down on either side
Back on outta that same way you entered
less you on foot, then you in luck
cause Walton Place gotta few cuts.

Rode past my house and round to the back
Ain't much changed round here
Looks like the family's still black
I see a woman in my mama's old bedroom
I wonder if she can see me
I almost wanna snap a picture
but that a be creepy.

My heart hurts as I imagine what the walls remember
back when we were staying back there.
The living room, the stairs to the attic,
the basement, and my brother's room.

I smile as I see some stray cats to distract my train of thought
I didn't have the worst childhood but it was rough
That's the way resilient traumatized people like to talk

I still have wishes to buy that house one day. It's yard so nice, I noticed they cut down the mulberry.

I miss my crazy ex
Sometimes we would argue
But never about ***

He'd put it down
I'd throw it back
Cant remember a time he didn't catch

We broke on up cause
we both had become toxic as ****
He moved to the A
And I hopped on that plane
With no shame
we shed tears, made love
and then parted ways

One last ****,
we did that with grace.