Long Blm Poems
Long Blm Poems. Below are the most popular long Blm by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blm poems by poem length and keyword.
Black Lives Matter is a statement of love not statement of hate
So, please erase the confusion from your face
But they can't hear because they're too busy spraying mace in my face
They keep yelling: s who needs them, nigga please, black boy black girl you don't belong
Today I read murder s on a random wall
Someone tried to spray paint over it, but the hate was still legible
They try to sweep racism under the rug, but the people living in that house still keep the hate at their side at all times
Taking lives at all times, so much so it has become a full-time job, and they love overtime
Humans are not animals but sometimes I wish black people had 9 lives like a cat
Then maybe one of those we could live out who we were meant to be
Or maybe we could be a dog, you heard the cops call us treats,
Right?
Justice where has it gone, people will say it's just the times
But now it's 2020 and Justice is more like just them all the time
It's not fair, it's not right, it's not love, and to everyone who gets hurt standing up for the air being sucked out of our bodies continue to stay ten toes down
Because we is a selfish term in America
Freedom is a selective term in America
The grey line takes up most of the space in America
Right is looked at as wrong in America, and some still choose to ignore the true colors of America
Red is my blood stolen from the boys in blue, that sadly can be defined as a white American most of the time
The red should really symbolize the fire raging from this hell on earth
That makes the world blue, well some of us
White culture eating white cake from the recipes of slaves
Wanting to experience different things
Wanting to participate in our lifestyle
Stealing traditions
Without the ritualistic red dot constantly pointed at their back
But when a black person wants more for themselves, they have to start with a wall against their back
While carrying the cross their ancestors hung from
While trying to make change, positive change should not be as hard as looking for a dropped charge
Awareness and action is the key, but there are many doors to unlock until Justice can start to have the appearance of a just world
We can be more, we can do better, when we start to believe that no one is better
We are all equals, this is not algebra its addition
love + human=unity not hate, it's simple
p.s. I'm still praying...
Not only did they colonise land
They colonised history too
They decided to make history a blank canvas
To start anew
By painting over the colour in white paint
Hiding the accomplishments of tge black race
They say slavery was in the past
We need to move on
But continously teach us about the holocaust
And when a black student ask 'what about my history'
They respond slavery is bad
But that is all the knowledge we need
Ignoring their pleas
To teach black history
The teacher turns their back
Not caring how they feel
The extent of teaching black history
Is learning about Martin Luther King
Who had a dream
What about Claudette Colvin
Who was to 'dark' to be seen
Or malcolm x
Who was so dangerous, so powerful
That he was the FBI's most wanted
For daring to speak
And making an impact
Holding the oppressors accountable
He knew he was going to die, he knew what they had planned
He had died taking a stand
We did not go through all of this just to be erased
Our pain and suffering will not be in vain
We will scream and shout, till you say our names
And for your crimes you will pay
You will not hide our history you tried to Bury in our graves
He reflected on the life he had lived
Staring out the window watching his kids with his grandkids
They were his greatest gifts
He also felt this quiet melancholy of putting them in a position
To survive In a world filled with racists
He hoped they would outlive him
He hoped he would end up in a casket
Way before they ever did
Flicking through his memories
He remembers as a kid
Watching his father being killed
By the very same people who were supposed to protect them
He remembers how that day he had lost his innocence
The day he fully understood what being black meant
They didn't convict his dad's killer
His dad never got justice
He remembers the day of his first protest
For his father's unjust killing
His first chant:
No justice, no peace
He also sadly remembers
The day he tried to rub black of his skin
He thought if he turned white he wouldn't end up in a coffin
For all these years it was a memory he had kept hidden
Even if he had permanent burns that would not leave him
He looked back at the window
Watching his grandkids playing
Looking happy
He hoped that what happened to him wouldn't happen to them
He had always did affirmations with both his kids and grandkids
He had hoped it was enough
For them to see Their self worth
After a while he joined them in the garden
Forgetting about his problem
Wanting to enjoy spending time with his family
That was until
He saw his granddaughters skin
With the same burns as him
This was his biggest fear
This had left him heart broken
He looked in her eyes, long gone Her innocence
It had left earlier than his
She hadn't even reached double digits
This world had stole her innocence
All because of the colour of her skin
This infuriated him
He wished he could take her pain and replace it with her lost innocence
Streets littered with white paper sheets
Printed with the ink of black missing kids
Floating through the air desperate to find somebody who cares
Empty are the streets, just like their parents home
Awaiting the day they'll be reunited with their beloved children
Authorities won't listen
Not one eye lid batted
They look the black parents in the eye feeling joy from their sadness
And as cold as ice say their kids disappearance doesn't matter
They claim they've probably run away
That attention is what they want
So they won't feed into their kids 'temper tantrum'
Then to sprinkle salt into the wound
They claim the town has been much quieter
I didn't know that it was a crime for children to play
But then again when you're a black kid innocence doesn't really matter
Last week they stated BLACK LIVES MATTER
Then again it would be naive to believe
That a system built after slavery
Would care to 'serve and protect' black people
Maybe there is a reason to their indifference
Their ability to lack sympathy
Maybe just maybe
They're the reason the black kids went missing
His mind was an abyss
Of emotions
And endless questions
Of the world around him
He wasn't much of a speaker
But he was definitely a thinker
His mind was a safe place
Where he could speak freely
Without being harmed
He hated the outside world
He was scared if he stepped outside
He was afraid the racists might strike
So instead he would hide
In the comfort of the inside
He focused on his survival
And to him that meant control
Even if his mental health took a toll
This fear for a black person was normal
Living life shouldn't be a struggle
But he wasn't even safe in his home
In his dreams his fears wouldn't leave him alone
And when he woke up he was haunted by the nightmares he had come to known
He was also scared to leave his family alone
He was extremely afraid of the unknown
Which led to his need for control
This is what the system does
It instills fear in us
Until our minds have turned to the darkness
And their hatred consumes us
Until we are a shell of what was
And that is one of the ways they kill us
When the music died
It turned into police sirens
When the music died
It was like playing musical statues
Without the music
And forever stuck in silence
When the music died
It gave space for the gunshots
And the screams that came after it
When the music died
The soul died too
When the music died
The world stood still
The echoes of what could've been
When the music died
Tears fell from our eyes
The part of us that carried joy had died
When the music died
We mourned all the black lives
Held a funeral and said our goodbyes
When the music died
It wasn't a surprise
When silence filled the streets
Waiting for someone to speak
Waiting for the moment the black people
Who introduced colour to the world
To come back alive
When the music died
The streets cried
A circus act
A puppet
A clown
When you think of these you think of a
Performance
Or even entertainment
You think of
Comedy
You think of
Jokes
You think of
Laughter
So what happens When you become the butt of the joke
Where they are not laughing with you
But at you
Not because you're funny
But because of what's being done to you
Oh you don't know
Well good for you
But what about those who do know
The ones who's pain were seen as entertainment
You know them
All to well
The ones
You laughed at
Saw their blood
Decided it wasn't good enough
So you spilled more
All in the sake of a laugh
All in the sake of trying to humble
All in the sake of making us a spectacle
Now do you know
Or are you still trying to put on a show
By acting the victim
You know who I'm talking about
The people you love to hurt
Still acting dumb
Fine
It's black people
The people you have continously harmed since
Forever
But that would be an understatement
That taking our blood was your idea of entertainment
Your idea of Comedy was our enslavement
And your idea of a good performance
Was watching us hang
Watching the life leave our eyes
You desensitised
To the violence You used to kill our lives
To you this was a joke
For us It left us broke
Devoid of any hope
So I hope you choke
On the guilt of what you've done
This will be our show
Watching you trying to clear your throat
The rush of emotion stilled
The air once consumed by an undiluted energy
Now eerily quiet
Something lingers in the air
Justice?
No something louder but hidden
A violence so silent
It could go unnoticed by those who don't care to see
Those who choose wilful ignorance
The streets once crowded by protest
Now sits empty
Brought down from the high of purpose
Now left with an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness
The stench of death plagues the streets
Where once voice and life used to meet
Now only emptiness you will greet
Only thing left is failed legacies and echoes of long gone feet
The people who assumed these spaces
Just like the streets now empty
The promises of a better future
Dead like the movement
Despite having enough strength in their bodies to go on
Mourning takes their time of what's lost
Hoping to gain the strength to march again
But as the world continues to hate instead of help
Slowly losing their joy, the best parts of themselves
They are tired though not from the burning screams for justice
Nor the tiring marches
But through a slow realisation that the world they live in may never change
The Covidlike phrase slithered into my consciousness,
coiled itself around unprotected prudence
and constricted.
Its bifurcated tongue touched the untouchable,
testing whisps of thought with darts of anger,
selecting venom’s next victim.
Overlapping scales pressed against prudence’s mouth,
squelching her response.
Logic attempted rescue--
came from all directions
seeking this unexpected foe,
while normal dissipated
like mist on a summer morn.
Each time I repeated the phrase
coils tightened,
making venom drip from fangs of desperation.
Confusion overflowed its cauldron,
spilling into and flooding the chamber of id.
I looked for escape--
a response to entice normal to return,
but found no words.
Change forced himself upon me,
overthrowing bastions of prejudice and privilege,
making me repeat his words,
“Silence is violence and civility, complicity.”
Empty, that's all she felt
She hated the numbness that would blindly attack
She did so much for others
But she couldn't help herself
She carried the weight of being black
Where racism would slowly break her back
She couldn't even go to a hospital they'd probably throw her out
Calling her 'dramatic'
Saying she should go somewhere else
This is what would happen if a black girl dared to ask for help
They would shove hatred down her throat
Until It got so bad that she would throw it up
She would come to realise that the bitter taste that was left was trauma in her mouth
Maybe it's the reason why she had the urge to rip her insides out
The pain she lived each day
And the numbness she was left with at night
Was a constant battle that her and her people had to fight
All she ever wanted out of life
Was to help her people so she would write
Poems that spoke of the unspeakable
She knew it was risky, but she would be the light
A guide so they could have a better life
She wanted freedom for all her people
She would do anything to make sure they were treated equal
So she would make sure she held the system accountable
She knew it was impossible for anyone to stop her
Even if it meant pointing out each and every individual
That participated in an act so evil
She would bear the weight of the consequences
Of carrying what the world threw at her people
She would forever be her people's protector
Even if it meant it would kill her
She knew the toll of her surrender
Even if it Consumed every part of her
She knew the risks were worth it
Even if she drowned in the emptiness