SLAMMED -
D
O
W
N,
To the ground,
C-R-A-C-K -
The only sound -
Made,
Knee on neck,
Blood blanketed the pavement,
STAY DOWN,
He did nothing wrong,
STAY DOWN,
His only crime was being Black,
STAY DOWN,
In the eyes of the police - it warranted an attack.
He could NOT speak back
He would NOT speak back
He can NOT speak back
Why?
He was DEAD,
Blunt force trauma to the head,
Slammed down with a cracked neck,
The police couldn’t care less,
No panic, no stress,
They know, without a doubt - they will get a not guilty verdict,
They are white with a badge - this means they are protected
The cycle repeats over and over again,
The cycle never ends,
And now police brutality -
Becomes their favourite trend,
And if they get caught they will claim self defence
Watching.
Staring.
Filming.
But,
Not -
Seeing.
Stopping.
Preventing.
The art of being a bystander -
Is not art, but bloodshed,
It is an act of inhumanity,
To watch Black bodies fall,
The modernised version of lynchings,
Where everyone is complicit -
And no one is innocent
The world’s cruelty knows no bounds,
Where the spectacle of Black death -
Brings people together as one,
From different communities and cultures,
To share the moment - where a Black life is gone
When it comes to the death of a Black person,
The world becomes desensitised to the horrors,
That are done to us -
To them it’s a way to gain followers -
A way to boost their social media platforms
Even videos of animal neglect gets more sympathy,
Their empathy extends only to animals,
But when a Black person is tortured -
For no reason,
The world claims it was our fault
The bystander effect was just an excuse to hide from -
Being held accountable,
Of being complicit - an accessory to murder
Bad people tend to drift along in their own current
Often against the prevailing current
Like a hurt animal just needing a place to hide
While the good flow in the mainstream
Powerfully self-righteous.
The bad do bad things
Wreaking their anti-social havoc and chaos
While the good maintain the order
By whatever means.
And it is this power of order and righteousness
That leads to the greatest evil;
Carpet bombed civilizations
Systemic corruption and fraud
Neighbors lynching neighbors
Because, you know, it can be done
To assuage the fear of the unknown
To harness the power of the crowd
To spread the love of the righteous
All for the Greater Good.
(2/14/26)
A man h
a
n
g
s
A life g o n e
They call it a suicide -
But then why is there blunt force trauma to the head?
Why does the evidence not agree with what is being said?
They reveal he is,
BLACK,
But not only that,
They claim now it is an accident
They P A N I C,
Covering up their lies,
How they despise -
Us
They d
a
n
c
e
Around the truth:
This was - MURDER,
This was - RACISM,
This fact is inescapable, for evidence does NOT lie
The gallows hum my grandfather's hymn low and long as the lineage of loss.
Every rope remembers a name we forgot to imprint in the wind.
My veins vibrate with song; blood buzzing with borrowed curses.
The moon mouths my surname in mockery,silver tongued and sick with sin.
Our ancestors choke in the soil, coughing our crimes like prayers gone bad.
I walk beneath shadows, my spine a rosary of rusted regrets.
My shadow weeps, stitched from screams,a quilt of old betrayals and bone dust.
Time trembles,terrified of our inheritance of hurt and hunger.
The ghost of my father hums hymns of hunger and horror,holy and hideous.
The rope rocks me gently-singing lullabies in the language of lynching.
Dressed in their Sunday best
Toothy grins
Pristine shoes
Eyes sparkling with joy
A simple family picture
The epitome of innocence
'Spick and span' as they would say
A nice family outing
Where you ask?
Church?
A family picnic?
Day trip?
No.
They dressed up in their Sunday best
To watch a black man succumb to a slow and labored death
To watch his long drawn out last breath
The slowed movement of his chest
Giggling as the now still mans body stops all movement
They await their turn to take picture
A forever reminder of their first lynching
Their tears drown out truth
In a thick coating of white lies
Used to prepare our demise
Each tear, a loss, a death, a wound
That seals our communities doom
A cry for war without any real cause
Our flesh the only thing it burns
A pain that continues into the next generations
Fragility they use for power
Without it they would starve to death
Insecurities dictate their minds
Flooded by the truth of how they feel
Dominating their being without attention
They don't just crave it, they need it like the air they breathe
Or the alternative dealing with their thoughts of inferiority
Whilst being clouded by jealousy
They feel to the race they claim to hate
Yet copy everything we do
That steals everything we've built
The power of the white woman's tear
Is something to be studied
Something so dangerous it's killed more than the white man
Curated a war against the black man
Killing the innocent with their blood Soaked tears
This a crime gone unpunishable for centuries
Stalked all their life
Stained by a crime not committed
A permanent mark on black skin
A reminder how we will never fit in
Labelled as criminals
Despite being exonerated
Probation was for those in need of reformation
Not those who already good behaviour
But any chance to stereotype
The oppressors will take their chance
To keep the invisible chains of oppression are locked in and secured
A way to surveil those who now walk in the light
Constant checkups, now a normal routine
Having to ensure their record is squeaky clean
Being suffocated by the fear
Of breathing wrong
They'll do anything to keep us behind bars
Freedom they promised, yet freedom we haven't received
Being watched doesn't equate to being free
Especially when we still hang from the trees of your critique
You can't claim slavery ended when we are still slaves to your constant surveillance
Not when incarceration is used as a way to keep us hidden
Not when we live a life of normalcy
Yet are still followed
By the law that claims to help
Yet shoots us as soon as we open our mouth
You can't claim it ended when we live under the power
Of the white man
The case of lynching vs suicide
A black man
Hangs
Lifeless
Silent
Eerie
The only sound
Is the wind thrashing around
As it surrounds
The black man
Screaming loud
Trying to get the man to make a sound
The wind howled
In pain
In agony
Watching as the whole town
Laughing like he was some kind of clown
The police never showed
In the report they'll label it as a suicide
For them case closed
Why they were part of the show
They think they'll clean up the mess tomorrow
And because they had all the power
They had the upper hand in this matter
They also had control so it didn't matter if they were murderers
Especially if their victims were black
No one would care if they were attacked
Except the black community
And the worst part is they couldn't have a funeral
Because they didn't just kill him, after they also burned his body
Even in death he had no autonomy
They stole the right to say goodbye from the family
And just like his body
They burned his story
They kept finding different ways to lynch us
Oh we're still spectacles
They just watch from their smartphones
Watching as we struggle
Watching us be tackled
They don't see us as victims
Just waiting for a pundit
To say we deserve it
Let's not forget about the 13th ammendment
Instead of being slaves they just entered our names in the system
As an excuse to reduce us to numbers
Instead of being slaves we were just labelled as criminals
Technically 'slavery' was abolished
So instead of being whipped
We were punished
With imprisonment
They just found a loophole
A different form of control
Don't get me started on the education system
A place where our history is hidden
A place of division
And preferential treatment
Of a certain race of students
They do it just enough
To remind us of our place in this institution
A constant reminder of how we will never fit in
All because our skin which triggers their racism
If you think racism has ended
Then you're choosing ignorance
You need to be educated
But us black people won't do it
RamaRajya, Mahatma Gandhi’s non-violent utopia of mutual tolerance, has no place for bigots who lynch and leech the Weak.
Lynch my body
Pinch my soul
Punch my pride
Drench my blood
Staunch be your henchmen
Bunch of bigoted hooligans
Flinch us they from progress
Wrench us they from justice
Exhaust every trick in your bag
Pull every arrow off your quiver
Bribe your cheerleaders forever
Swing your dagger far and deeper
Behold! Destiny’s Wheel will one day turn
In your own inferno shall you burn
Hate will then find no buyers
Fade shall every Fake Soothsayers
Rama’s Rajya will then re-assign
Love and equality will re-reign
Unity and Diversity will re-align
Tolerance will do India define
***
(From the anthology, Mantra of the Oppressed, available on Amazon.)
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
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
You know that they are many
And you’re asking ‘if any?’
Those who could kill for Penny
For it search Nook and Cranny
You know that they are heady
And for lynching The Ready,
For every touched property
And The Thief of Puberty
And just there - Pubic Hair
Making The Theft Quite Unfair …
A Poverty of Ideas
By Man who Poverty fears!
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
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.