Bodies float.
Down the deep blue sea,
Washed up on shore,
The life of a Black person no more.
Evidence erased -
By tidal waves,
Or -
So they say,
They claim,
It was an - ACCIDENT
But that is just hearsay
But…
There’s a pattern,
And more and more deaths happen,
Stories don’t add up,
Autopsies - covered up.
One plus one equals two,
And yet in the case of these Black bodies - this is not true,
Somewhere along the lines the truth,
Has been misconstrued.
Like a game of chinese whispers -
Like a solution that doesn’t match the problem.
In the end we will never know,
But bruises don’t just show,
And swimming doesn’t cause head trauma
And yet a blow to the head suggests - Murder?
Secrets eventually surface,
Promises made, are promises broken,
The courts favour the right to blame water,
And in the end we were burned,
By -
The so-called justice system
Motive:
jealousy twisted into a desire for power,
Systems built from broken trust,
Superiority sourced by those who exude it,
Blood spilled from the hands of those who are black
Empires built from false prophecy
Lies cultivated from the weeds of projected self-hatred
Motive - the white man to appear as the superior race
Alibi:
The fragility of whiteness,
The acidic tears of the white woman,
The weaponisation of power by the white man,
The homemade, home-baked stereotypes - to divide
Propaganda pieced together with the glue of prejudiced policies -
Weaving deceit to narrate harmful ideologies of blackness
The portrayal of victimhood, for the picture of white innocence,
The abuse of power, to abuse black people
Alibi - racial killings masquerading as self-defence
The defence rests
Prosecutors sweat
The judge, blinded by bias
The jurors , all white
The verdict:
Not guilty -
By reason of fear of colour
Acquitted
Now freedom awaits -
For the white man, now he can do it again
I love the rainy season
Not because I'm a pluviophile
In fact, people don't understand my reason
Especially since I'm a chionophile
But, I prefer the loneliness
Over the fake talks and smiles
I am happiest in the floods, I fess
When I can't see for miles
No more awkward 'Hey!'s
When I could just say I'm sick
No more insecure pool days
With that girl equivalent to a stick
It's considered normal to be seasonally sad
Rain days even give me time off school
Without contact, it's hard to be mad
And, I can't really feel uncool
I do sometimes go out with my "peers"
Umbrellas are fine cover for a light rain
And the raindrops merge with my tears
So no one can see me break down in pain
Delighted by a rippled sky
in layers of a parfait pink
I wonder nature’s alibi
and how it always makes me think
For though I see its wondrous hues
through eyes that show me of its grace
I know that it is everywhere
in every person, thing or place
To what amazement, I am bound
in trying to respect its rule
In realizing that the world
is just its subjugated fool
Yet nonetheless, its beauty reigns
in mountains, rivers, forests green
In every flower’s subtle scent
in everything I’ve ever seen
I wonder nature’s alibi
though manifesting so much love
It’s also holds the key to hate
If only men could rise above
A bag of spiders, two toxic frogs
Stolen, according to the police logs
I know this thief was none too bright
By opening the bag in broad daylight
A black widow bit her on the thumb
To poison she would soon succumb
Toxins infiltrated deep into her brain
Sending her loopy, she’s quite insane
According to all the medical logs
She’s as crazy as a box of frogs
Restrained for life on a psycho ward
Her sanity can never be restored
Strapped into a chair writing poetry
How do I know, alas the thief was me!
Bag of Spiders Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Matt Caliri
06/04/23
i can keep secrets
hold them captive in my mind
caged against their will
never tell another soul
~ you didn't hear this from me
'S'' Contest, New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Syllable counter ps 5/7/5/7/7
03/11/2021
They say it is better late than never,
I say it's best to arrive earlier.
I know it's highly unconvincing, Mrs Blackwell;
an unimaginable storyline no doubt.
In all your years of teaching science at St Hilda's
you must have thought our wild excuses would run out.
I know you'll calculate with ease my fabrication
but hope my alibi will raise a passing smile
for even scientific minds abrim with logic
can set imagination free once in a while.
And so to tell it in a nutshell Mrs Blackwell
last night a swarm of flying reptiles hit the town
and gazing upwards with increasing consternation
I noticed one was breaking rank and swooping down.
Then with a thud it landed right outside my window
its sturdy beak began to smash through my defence
I had to pinch myself to check I wasn't dreaming
for such Jurassic visions counter common sense.
And then the flaming pterodactyl ate my homework
and Mrs Blackwell, I do hope you'll understand
that when a flying reptile lands inside your bedroom
events will rarely go as smoothly as you'd planned!
10.02.21
...And Then A Flaming Pterodactyl Ate My Homework Poetry Contest
Sponsor : John Lawless
Life does not converge Always
At a point as it should.
But I witnessed
The artist’s mind
On that rare moment,
When a softer hue started
An asymptote journey for infinity.
He saw a sadness in her dreamy eyes
He saw a mystic smile on her face.
He saw her impeccable face
Touched by a softer light,
The light that once
Silently reached
Her dark, curly hair.
Life does not converge always
At a point as it should.
But the pathway helps
The artist’s mind, to resonate
The inflection, cadence within.
Life is all about meeting someone,
Finding some way, for an alibi of dreaming.
In the end, we were there-not there,
two present absentees
sharing an apartment vacated by a relationship
and the worst kind of loneliness -- feeling solitary next to someone --
partners in the crime of abetting mutual misery,
though neither of us can really be linked
to the crime scene, can we?
We’ve got each other’s alibi.
The blue pile was hidden from her view
Left in a place to surprise her later
Left by an uncaring, unthinking lout
Who did not consider the mean glances
Or the rumors to whisper
Had left the house dreadful
Broken plates on the floor
teacups shattered
She was fragile
He was missing
Hounds were called in, accusations were made
The police did not believe her alibi
Dreadful years later finding his old clothes.
Created for Broken Wing Dear Heart’s Contest The Puzzle of My Rhyme
Don't want to get stuck living a lie
In a relationship that barely gets by
Day to day your heart unable to finalize
Stuck together unwilling to try
Anything new that makes us comply
Waking up every morning asking yourself why
Month after month wanting to say goodbye
How being together just makes you want to cry
Meanwhile, your life just keeps passing on by
Pray tomorrow leads to a different kind of high
So tired of living this alibi
Dreaming of a love that will kiss the sky
Without worrying where the other end lye
When I can open my eye's
Wanting to fantasize
Without feeling like someone wants to analyze
A well thought out surprise
Unable to find any compromise
Constantly feeling criticized
I have come to realize
How it all feels capsized
Hoping you will be able to empathize
That I am going to find another to harmonize
So every day will be like a new sunrise
With a woman who wants to maximize
All that symbolizes life's highest high's
One who wants to customize
A love that defies
Everything that makes your heart want to fly
Instead of living a love based on a lie
"That's alright..." he cry he cry he cries.
"we're all alive on the inside and you're
my friend my friend my friends
and i'm gonna kill you."
Like we're all holed up in a delirium
hotel and when he's done you'll know some
things you didn't know before //oh let it
rain let it rain let it rain to kill the pain\\
"A crack in the window a world in a hole and
i want you to see the magician, a fire eater,
the fat lady, serpentina, sea monkey, see honey,
see my flipper feet and we're all here just to
make a dollar and then you'll have to go now."
And all the time the ticking timer inside your
head tocs and knocks for a last call on the
dollar deal --> always showtime on the inside
of your heart but the soul's dead!
And so we wait in line and do the time oh what
a pity oh what a crime!
:: 05-21-2018 ::
G-iving an alibi or reason
R-esults to another miscue;
E-xcuses are just flimsy,
T-hey have little worth or value.
H-ow can giving an alibi
E-xempt one from liability?
L-iars are fathered by Satan, as they have no plausibility.
T-welfth of February Monday,
A-dmit your lapse neath the sky;
G-auzy plea pleases not God,
R-efrain from giving an
A-libi.
Memory in hand and pen agape
The allusions flow freely
I’d start in abit.
The rigours of stages in life
Is a farce I am yet to comprehend
I’d write
A time saddled with burden of innocence
So lavished.
The peer’s shadows looms over
Lost in the crowd of our thoughts
Envy is measured.
In maturity confusion is eminent
At a point nothing is pleasing
Efforts become so vague, we end partying in graves
At peace with everything but ourselves.
In strangers strides, memory at hand fades.
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