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Di Viera Poem
People of color tell US your story.
If we judge it best we’ll give you glory.
But, you must tell US fast
the contest won’t last.
Tell it just right
for US who are white.
Give US a black rhyme
‘cuz now’s our good listening time.
That joke’s so funny
I can’t breath, honey
Like this story ain’t old
Like it ain’t already been told
Why put it on me
when you don’t want to see?
Why must I always teach you?
Why must I always preach you?
Why must I always beseech you?
When it never can reach you?
This system is yours
You shut the doors
You hoard the tools
You make the rules
You already knew
This is just what you do
There is nothing new
I still just want MY due
So don’t waste my time
Don’t expect my best rhythm
This problem is yours - not mine
At night, I breathe, just fine.
Copyright © Di Viera | Year Posted 2020
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Di Viera Poem
Cover your face.
Wash your hands.
Cover your voice.
Take care where you stand.
The world isn’t safe.
Boy, stay in your place.
Can’t take a knee
- unless it’s on me.
Too weary to cope
No peace; no hope
So much despair
Don’t trust the air
I CAN’T BREATHE!
More lying,
more crying
and too much dying
More shooting,
more looting and
own horn tooting,
Leaders just lurking
or under-mask smirking.
We aren’t working.
I, CAN’T BREATHE?
How will They learn
if you just came here to burn?
Stop all the violence, and
be done with the silence
It’s all gone berserk
but, MY lungs still work.
I CAN BREATHE.
So, I’ll breathe loudly;
I’ll breathe proudly.
Breathing for JUSTICE, not Just Us.
I’ll breathe knowing who must - US.
I’ll breathe with a chorus that can’t be silenced,
young and old;
timid and bold;
dark and light;
all breathing what’s right.
Breathing firey tongues of
history untold;
Breathing through tears for
the ones we can’t hold;
Breathing righteous love and true understanding
until with my last breath
when I am no longer standing
I’ll breathe release
while the chorus breathes
Hope and Peace
- - D Viera (June 2020)
Copyright © Di Viera | Year Posted 2020
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Di Viera Poem
You taunt me with your golden glow
But, a leaden heart lurks below.
A wooden tomb of future lore
Heroes and dragons enslaved in your core.
You taunt me with your golden glow
But, red-tipped error is all you show.
Just scribbles and scratches between each lull
The magic locked up when you’re sharp or dull.
You taunt me with your golden glow
But, I should not blame you. I already know.
You cannot be more than a simple utensil
You’re no creative muse. You’re only a pencil.
Copyright © Di Viera | Year Posted 2023
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