Best Lynching Poems
'Just get over it'
No we still haven't received reparations
And they are long overdue
Why would we get over it
When you prance around wearing bags made of our skin
Sitting your privileged self's on chairs oh so familiar
The fabric - our skin
But you'll never know
You'll never care
Because of your ignorance
Because what you don't know won't hurt you
But a little secret, I promise you it hurt us
Can't you hear the echoes of our ancestors
Or is your inability to basic human emotions
Cause you to go deaf in both of your ears
'Just get over it'
No how about you don't deny our history's existence
How about you stop going on the defence
Everytime you hear about the black experience
Why would we get over it
When it slaps us in the face
Every single day
Through the blood stained pavements
From segregation to alienation
Through the changing of weapons
Long gone are the harsh echoes of the whips
Is now the sharp bang of a gunshot
Going from personal torture
To cowardly killings
'Just get over it'
How can we
When everyday we carry the scars of our ancestors
And you carry the evil spirit of your ancestors
How are we supposed to walk the streets
Where public lynchings was free entertainment
Because no matter how hard you try to erase
The echoes of violence still linger
And the weight of generational trauma clings to a world we built
'Just get over it'
You may have drowned our cities
And set fire to our towns
But one thing remains known
Is how you'll never silence our screams
How can we get over it
When the rope Hangs from the trees
When segregation is over yet the ice in your eyes make known we are unwelcome
How sundown towns still exist with the same outcome
Where every ship is haunted by the fear
Our people faced
Drowning in the eerie thoughts of what's to come
When black history month
Reminds that nothing has really changed
The only difference is the rules of game they made
And the changing of the games name
You claim we are stuck in the past
But we are still living in it
How can we forget
When there's constant reminders
Hiding in every corner
Where every shadow leads to another piece of trauma
That reminds black is not just a colour
The Cross and The Lynching tree are the two most emotional depictions
Of the African experience in America when it comes to the descriptions
Of the historical circumstances that define my people's struggle
Of the hatred, the pain and the injustice nothing but trouble
Torn down and broken hearted in the valley of despair
Death seemed like the only way to get out of there
But my people were survivors and they knew that one day change would come
So they held on to their faith and hope because of the Holy One
They would not accept defeat, they would not accept doubt
They knew that somehow God would work it all out
Despair may seem so real but we have an endemic capacity to live
Knowing that God is on our side and mercy to us He did give
Glory Hallelujah we placed our hope in Christ
Despite the rope and lynching tree taking my people's lives
The Lynching tree depicts death and despair
While the Cross symbolizes eternal life and no fear
We've been transformed and transcended by the power of the Cross
In spite of white supremacy and the black lives that were lost
And we now know that there is nothing new under the sun
As what happened to my people also to Jesus it was done
The Cross is a redemptive symbol of faith, hope and trust
It depicts God's resurrection power that abides inside of us
And the harsh realities of slavery that my ancestors endured
Has made their descendants more resilient than ever before
Yet systemic lynching in still in affect and the world needs to see
What's truly happening in America's so called democracy
Black folks are being killed almost every single day
A disproportionate number in prison or in economic disarray
Financial slavery in the form of debt, unemployment or uneducated
But we hold on hoping that one day we will be truly emancipated
From the Crucifixion to the Middle Passage and beyond slavery
We know see the correlation between the Cross and The Lynching tree
I’m calling you out!
Many ‘came and went,’ but after George Floyd, I thought it was done;
Now, two more possibly got hanged, and another, shot with a gun.
‘Black disrespect’ is real! In the midst of protesting over the same;
These ‘white’ cops perpetrated this undeniably racist act once again.
I couldn’t believe it; their actions were, brazen, brash and so blatant;
What about the ‘moot’ “Protect and Serve,” despicable public servant.
What is this grievous genocidal trend – when will this nightmare end?
How long will we be brutally broken – until there’s nothing left to mend?
Imagine; I quote; “You scared me man, because you were sleeping in the car;”
As an appropriate and valid reason or excuse; that is fetched way too far.
The suspect is drunk; scuffled with the cops and then fled from them terrified;
Then, the ‘scared’ cops shot Rayshard Brooks; and this deadly act they justified.
Every good citizen; as well as, criminals have Rights, under the Constitution;
Unfortunately, ‘Blacks’ are not rendered those rights; and it’s no new revelation.
So, when!?! When will the infringement on our rights be rectified, with equity?
Whom!?! Who will be bold enough to willfully act and change this travesty?
End
By: Dion Penville
The tree stands limp, dormant within a garish black unheard sky
Innocently displaying
(Mans inferiority complex)
Light reflects white which lays in leaf and dried blood
Which once flowed as two, then, young men
The dark is lost ..in time..yet again
Angelic sprites hang as christmas baubles for those
Who seem fit to smile and point
So much white, in teeth and flesh
The shirt reflection is good and oh so good
And angelic and dark are ne-er the twain
And what a party! we would believe them say
With their bobbed hair and smile as bright as they
Could muster for the camera
The gaggle
The beast
Who in their filth and ignorance
Once believed
To lynch a man is a fair mans game
To smile with one pointed finger
(have you no shame!)
Please note... this is a competition entry based on a picture i found disturbing but wanted my say... when we are young angels are always (as far as i know portrayed in white and the darker side) well that speaks for itself... in the picture the goodness seemed the calm dark sky and the two poor souls,where as the foreground where most of the light is reflected seems all that is wrong with this world...
american lynching in the south 1930shttp://listverse.files.wordpress.com/2007/08/1930-lynching.jpg
I won a gold for this.
The Lynching of Ridley Colt
Gathered in saloon they were... all boldest men of Pecos.
So thought they all of Ridley Colt... was time his just deserve.
Wisky flowed as though their last... courage bought in each hot glass...
Fury raged against Ridley Colt... that night of reckoning in Pecos.
Days all not so long since past... find him now that chosen path...
Along those dusty streets of Pecos... and in deepest dark of thought...
Striding forward now... was that gunman Ridley Colt.
Knew them all his legend... so his deadly past.
Saw them all his furrowed brow... as stroke of twelve did sound.
Pecos did then shiver... boldest all of fright...
as did Ridley Colt draw those guns in heat of river night.
Saloon now just ahead... all now quiet silent dread...
Walks Ridley Colt now straight and true... through those creaking doors.
Hammers drawn back... twin barrels aimed...
Ridley Colt does find his end await atop the bar.
Her melody fine... her countenance sublime...
She who long ago had captured... heart of Ridley Colt.
Last of days found just then... in eyes of bluest sky.
As did her beau step from her side... and died that night in Pecos.
The judge's son... and he that was his heir...
that proud young apple... and gleam of Pecos eye...
on that woe-some night in Pecos did find his time to die...
As shot he was by lightnin' guns... Ridley Colt did fire.
Oh... western sky held silent breath... as winds did then fall dead.
One tear was shed and fell in silence... from cheek of dame of death.
And Ridley Colt did turn his back... to ride then on from Pecos.
That silence did subside... and filled with thunderous cries...
as boldest of the bold of Pecos did surround his every side.
Guns all cocked and aimed all same... at the heart of Ridley Colt.
That judge and once proud father did sentence him then dead.
Hanging...was then his fate as all that town of Pecos...
looked then on in dread.
And the gallows was the hanging tree... and then to die was Ridley Colt...
at last in peace and free.
SeaWolf
© May 2015
Chicago native Emmett Till would no longer be alive
after he was lynched in the state of Mississippi in 1955.
Till was on summer vacation in a village called Money.
It's located in the delta region of the river Mississippi.
The fourteen year old was beaten and shot in the head.
His body was dumped in the Tallahatchie River when he was dead.
Till flirted with a white woman in a grocery store, allegedly.
What really happened there remains a bit of a mystery.
The woman's husband and his half brother were the culpable party.
They were acquitted of all charges by an all-white jury.
Since the Constitution protects citizens against double jeopardy,
the two later admitted their guilt in a magazine's story.
This was one of the most infamous events in our history.
I thank wikipedia.org for information I obtained to write this poem
“Lynching”
Black man floating in space
Knotted rope about his face
Crosses burning
White sheets chanting
Black man squirming
Blue knee choking
Buildings burning
Dark nights looming
A noose from a tree
A boot and a knee
A black man dead
No one lead
Gutters vomiting
Jesus faltering
Canisters of tears
Scattering fears
Memories from the past
Recall the last
Nothing changed
Our nation estranged
Horrible brutality
Watching reality
A hang man’s stage
Millions enraged
Dusty roads
A hang man’s noose
Burning streets
A black man pleading
So much the same
It just insane
Equal justice
No longer trusted
Civil unrest
A nation stressed
Yet we care
When tempers flare
Doing it right
With all our might
We all must listen
As rattlesnakes hissen
It begins in the mind
You learn to be kind
We are all blood inside
Where love resides
It is not right
That I am white
And am not black
But my soul is cracked
I FEEL YOUR PAIN....
As George was slain
I watched it all
His terrible fall
Again and Again
Again and Again
A henchman calling
A nation bleeding
Again and Again
Again and Again
Crosses burning
Mindsets never learning
It was a lynching
Lon 6/1/2020
(Southern hospitality with a twist of lemon and a rope)
Who dares to serve me tea with lemon?!
On my own plantation born in heaven
Flowing in the land of milk and honey
Did I not say please....I'm sure I did
But now comes the first meal of the day spoiled
With a biter taste of lemon in place of honey
What kind of monster does such things?
What kind of creature did we hire?
It is time for them to expire
Someone must swing on the ancient tree
Under the golden sun and canopy of love
To their biter end they must remember
Tea needs honey for the sake of all humanity
Here in the South we pride ourselves on love
Southern hospitality brings tranquility and joy
Bring me my whips and guns for SOMEONE
He, she or it must be punished oh so quickly
Perhaps the word eradicate is more correct
For such an austere occasion on the plantation
Bring me a rope, a tree, a coward, a culprit
That they might dangle for their crime
Wrath is a wondrous thing...don't you think?
Enlightenment arrives in an instant with a lynching
Who dares to come between me and mine?!
For this outrage someone must die
It's an atrocity, a sin against all things me
How does one make a day perfect?
Surely not with lemon on the tray
A tea with honey and a hanging
What could be sweeter in Spring
Some one swinging in the sour breeze
Blossoms white turn into hours sweet
Tea needs honey to be right, served with toast
Crunchy on both sides with a smiley face
Carved out of crust before we get to lunch
Before we bury justice in the dust
Is it too much to ask for orange juice too
Without seeds and void of pulp please!
Freshly squeezed for breakfast pleasure
One execution per day is so delightful
Lemon flowers are so pretty and serene
In fact intoxicating as we watch the hired help
Dangling between the lovely blossoming
A hard days work for honest wages
Is what it is all about here in the South
The Lynching
Oh how it is, to be an oak tree,
one time a nut and now mighty.
One time blooming in the bright sunlight,
now it is tarnished by winter’s blight.
So hideous and putrid the acts of man,
even the vultures dare not perch near the stand.
For a simple man hangs up in the tree,
from a rope laid over a bow and tied tightly.
He was once a boy filled with laughter and cheer,
when as a boy he played here.
The boy loved swinging from the mighty oak tree;
with all the other children, they played with glee.
Long after the sun set for the night,
the stars came out to dazzle so bright.
The boy would sleep beneath that tree,
under the havens and dream of glee.
A child forever he dreamed at night,
of a potential future that shone so bright.
However, the children that played so near,
he loved so much and loved so dear.
Like flowers in a vase of vinegar and spite,
closed their petals in anger and blight.
As the seasons passed and the leaves on the ground,
the children stopped playing and coming around.
They became fewer and fewer to see,
until the only ones left were he and the tree.
Many years later they returned to the stand,
an angry mob with weapons in hand.
Dressed in sheets all of white,
they prowl the stand in the night.
They are hunting for an innocent man,
to play a game of hate in the stand.
A simple man hangs in the tree,
if only the tree had a voice like me.
To speak to the children of this tale,
so the next generation will not fail.
Oh how it is, to be an oak tree,
one time a nut and now mighty.
One time blooming in the bright sunlight,
now it is tarnished by winter’s blight.
By
Josehf Lloyd Murchison
"HIGH TECH LYNCHING"
April 6, 2023, a dark and sad day in Tennessee history
Black men striped of their first amendment right to tell their story
The Declaration of Independence, states that "all men are created equal"
But the miscarriage of justice carried out in Nashville, quite illegal
Two young black Representatives expelled from the state house
Wrongfully discarded, unconstitutionally trashed, with many doubts
Simply because of the color of their skin
The perpetrators will never win
Black people in the south, still faced with remmnants of Jim Crow
They continuously want to constrain our voices, don't you know
Systemic racism is still alive and well
Brothers and Sisters open your eyes, because it's not that hard to tell
The act of expulsion, was a planned strategy
Nothing more than a senseless tragedy
From start to finish, this was all about race
Just a blatant power grab to put two uppity blacks in their place
The nation mourns for the loss souls in the Nashville legislature
Blinded by the darkness of corruption, with a revengeful nature
They rammed down our throats, a historical, unprecedented expulsion
Two black men politically lynched, for a house, decorum rules intrusion
Modern day slavery, still keeping us down
I am embarrassed to say that Memphis is my home town
Don't misconstrue, "Modern Day Slavery", as victimhood
We're not victims, just oppressed people, with our plight misunderstood
As black people, brought to this country on slave ships
As we continue to be mistreated, we harken back to those trips
Why are we, refused and denied our deserved respect
Maybe because when we reflect, our opinions are honest and direct
Pulaski County Tennessee, birth home of the Klu Klux Klan
To overcome southern disenfranchisement, voting is the plan
For us to neutralize that "Good Ole Boy" mentality
As a people, we must realize that it's more than a formality
For, far too long, we have been degraded and downtrodden
We refuse to be your foot stool any longer, we beg your pardon
Many people have lost their sense of civility
Engaging in bigotry and not taking responsibility
When some people present themselves as racists
Don't entertain the negative, just be an escapist
When some in society dismiss an education
They are easily persuaded with misinformation
We saw blood on the leaves
Yeah! Blood filling the roots
Our ancestors hanging from trees
Their blood flowing out to the slave seas
Chained crews taken
To the cane fields
Haiti toppled from the outside, see reels
Shaken down to it’s knees
What they set out to achieve
Ain't no lie, ain't no dream
The enslaved Screamed
Our Blood on the leaves
Copyright March 4, 2023 by Brian Pierre-Alexander
© All Rights Reserved
Lynching Live; So What? Trumped-Up Normality Reins
Knee lynching streamed live,
Shadowed death’s source is revealed;
Justice remains blind!
Cameras roll, showing death’s shadowed
source.
Cameras don’t lie; streaming the truth of
live murder.
Oppressive actions of intentional racialism
unveiled;
Yet, lynched justice remains dangling on the
tree of life.
In oppression, when freedom fires flare-up,
Executive ordered murderers begin shooting;
Revealing despotic authority racialism controls.
With the support of blind justice’s unbalanced scales,
The justified lynching of hued citizens remains pandemic.
The pandemonium of the intentional killings of forested
black men
Has become as normal in America as its friend, out-right
abject racism;
And breaking news reporting of such is as much a crime as
living black.
Live streaming of First Amendment rights has been deemed
unacceptable
And will be dealt with as an aggregated affront against the
government;
Getting back to normal again has become the unleashing of
viral racism.
America boils,
The pot of death overflows;
Racist soup spilling…
Many rains ago,
Lynching blacks was quite normal;
Today, it still is…
The lessons of today’s liberation struggle
Must not be viewed as a virtual surrealism
But clearly realized that it’s graduation time
And all must strive to be valedictorians
Least we all will fail to cross the live stage;
Yes, we hued ones are all in this mess together
And anyone of us could be next victim, even you!
Santa went out last night dressed as the Grinch.
Partied too much got into a tight pinch.
Woke with aching hangover.
Mrs. Santa, boil-over,
Bells ringing, threaten with deer's reins to lynch.
11/13/2022
A Fun Holiday Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
In the backroads there's a legend
By the old black hanging tree
That this is the old crossroads
Where the devil comes to me
There's nothing near, it's barren
But the tree and an old rope
It is dark, and bleak and distant
And all devoid of hope
Is this the famous crossroads
where the devil makes a deal
It depends on what you're willing
To trade and get his seal
There is a tale of Johnny
Who played and won his bet
He beat the Devil at his game
But, the Devil does not fret
For every Johnny that is lost
A million more are signed
Just look around the world and see
They just so easy for to find
The pious and believers
Pass the tree and it's ok
But, the souls who wish to trade up
Feel a reason for to stay
The Devil hears their pleas
And he comes up to their side
He brings along the contract
And then he takes them for a ride
Deals are made for money
and deals are made for fame
It doesn't matter to the Devil
He's the ruler of the game
You'll get your wish regardless
In trade he gets your soul
The only thing you need to know
Is that you are no longer whole
A contract is a contract
And redemption sets you free
But, to doublecross the devil
Isn't easy as you'll see
Johnny beat him fairly
And the Devil said that he
Will come and grab a million more
By the old, black, hanging tree.
Mountains were coming down to
never-home,
in surreal rebuff to shaking earth;
emerging from the shadows of sky.
In groping for the legs
this was the myth of lynching.
You are drenched in the rains
of promises.
A kiss for each lethal penetration,
for global time-
you are becoming a wasteland
borne out of swollen fingertips-
who would not write any name.
The many words of pain are finding
a new meaning from the vocabulary
of conceit and betrayals.
A deliberate isolation brings
the sound sleep to ashes to become a thing.
Satish Verma