Dear thought police. I hope this finds
You in a reflective moid.? respectfully
assertain the words i
Convery, were wafted into my brain.'
They being thoughts..Ideas? Given
By God ! i just deliver them to other
Silly sods.' I advise you pay attention
As its Him who will be issuing your
Eternal residence and pension.' I'm
Just another one..Who can be silly as
They come.' So do not create and point
At me.' Rather find Jesus and become
Completley free.'
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
burn it.
Burn it.
BURN IT.
All of it,
Every single system,
Every single institution,
Every single building, built by the blood of Black hands.
Violence was a language they understood -
All too well,
So fire is the message we send back
Peace was never an option,
When war was a crime forged against us -
The very people who built their empire.
Blood shackled hands,
Tear stricken faces of the ancestors,
Each tear drop the glue of each cement brick,
Every building burnt - an act of justice,
Every building burnt - a form of reparations
Every system burnt, is justice served
Violence was the only answer -
To the oppressors acts of discrimination,
Of Black bodies strung, hung and burned,
Of every act of racism,
Of every Black person - murdered,
For the simple act of being Black in this world
What if they had lived?
What if?
Why couldn’t they live?
We will never forgive,
We will never forget,
What if they had lived?
And yet we will never get to see that happen.
Trayvon Martin,
Killed for skittles,
If he had lived -
He would have been a pilot,
If he had lived -
He would not have remained a kid
Tamir Rice,
Murdered for being a kid,
Playing with a toy gun -
All he did was have fun,
If he had lived -
He would be alive,
And for his family, his life was the most precious gift
If he had lived -
He would have been forever cherished
If all the Black kids,
Would not have been killed,
They would have lived -
They would still be breathing,
If they had lived the world would be a better place for it
Gunfire,
Shots.
Screams.
Bloodshed.
Bodies.
Bodies.
Bodies.
Except one -
The shooter,
Who - was - white
The victims,
DEAD,
All the victims -
Black.
The police,
Arrive,
Ten - twenty minutes late.
The excuse -
Traffic,
There was no traffic that day,
They lied -
They didn’t care that Black life had been taken away
They arrived late,
Red and Black,
It was an egregious attack -
What was worse,
The faces of the police -
Stone cold -
Devoid.
The shooter was spared,
He was white after all,
They didn’t shoot -
In their words it would be ‘un-called’ for
The shooter lived,
The shooter - acquitted,
Why?
He was white -
And the victims Black
But obviously the courts did not say that,
They said he was mentally unwell - had a panic attack,
That it would be unfair for them to criminalise that -
After all this was his first offense, so he can’t be that bad,
Oh, also he has a family which means they need him back
The victims families saddened,
But not surprised - as history shows this has already happened
The Rudolph poser got away from the police
They chased her but she blended into the ice, as fleece
She cannot get away with it, a detective said with a snap
But they caught up with her because she had taken a nap.
How dare you pretend to be Rudolph, the detective said.
Rudolph poser was groggy; she laid back down her head.
When did you say you were Rudolph? Asked another.
She didn’t ever say it said her cousin, uncle, aunt and mother.
Then how can we arrest her for posing as Rudolph? Asked the Popo.
You can’t stated Santa with a friendly “ho ho ho”.
Who started this rumor? Because it is a lie.
They backed off immediately; according to Dwarf Guy.
They say:
Savages.
Savages.
SA-VA-GES.
We say:
Hypocrites.
Hypocrites.
HYP-O-CRITES.
Moral olympics were never your event -
To participate,
In.
You don’t get a say -
When your words ooze with hypocrisy,
There is no democracy,
In the role you had to play,
In BLACK BRUTALITY.
You live in glass houses,
Throwing stones will break your walls of security,
You don’t get to call us savages -
When you, yourselves are defined by hypocrisy.
Superiority has never existed in your DNA,
When inferiority is the price you pay -
For generational jealousy
Your irrationality,
Blinds your capability -
To see,
The irony -
That the fingers you point, are facing your way
Three girls who drank from grey troughs
cried hard and rasped with loud coughs.
Cold cops raced to swoop
The girls took a poop
On top of their heads with scoffs.
They police the cloth,
the music, the ride,
measuring freedom
by inches of fabric
and silence of streets.
But ideas slip past checkpoints,
songs travel without permits,
and youth dreams louder
than any decree.
For no rule can chain
the restless rhythm of people
who know that tomorrow
must be wider than yesterday.
And freedom, like wind,
cannot be banned.
They want to lock up Officer Crespo for 27 years
But is the case as it appears?
I got a letter from the Center for Police Defense.
They claim the accusation makes no sense.
Crespo was called for backup, drug dealers were speeding at night
They pulled over and pointed a gun, wouldn't that give you a fright?
He wanted to make it back to his four kids and wife
He managed to shoot first, killed but saved his life.
The court did not tell the jury about the drug dealer's crime spree.
Reading what he did that night, that doesn't seem fair to me
The guy had just beat up his girlfriend and he was high on a drug.
The car was stolen, the gun illegal, not the type to give a hug.
The letter made another claim: that the D.A. dislikes police
If the letter is correct, this witch-hunt must cease.
Cops don't start a day wishing to kill a man
Life in jail for manslaughter is not part of their plan.
If you get rid of good cops, someone else will fill in
You won't like the new enforcers; results will be grim.
I'm not a blind believer, we should follow every clue
But it's easy to make judgements when the gun doesn't point at you.
they are goof balls
numb nuts, crazies
they run their police cars into each other
they blame everyone else
each one is uniquely incompetent
a bunch of weird nincompoops
numbskulls who make this movie hilarious
I cannot watch it enough times
it always makes me laugh
sometimes I am stressed out that
I am so easy
Procedure was followed,
But with corrupted vision
Procedure was followed,
But a life was stolen
They will claim it was for the good of a people,
Whilst hiding behind accountability,
They’ll claim it’s to protect -
But it’s an excuse to murder
When you give a gun a badge,
Laws become an option,
And crime becomes a given -
The badge becomes a ‘get out of jail free card’
And consequences are given to a different player
Power holds the monopoly -
And when you land on it’s property,
You either ‘pay up’ or allow ownership of your life,
Power is a game, and control is the prize
Procedure was followed,
But not without casualty,
Procedure was followed,
But not without the lesson of who controls who
Procedure was followed, because procedure was biased
Procedure was followed, to keep black at the bottom
The room speaks for itself -
It doesn’t speak at all
It exists, without breath
Silence suffocates -
The room is empty,
Not because of lack of people,
But because it lacks presence,
Something - or someone is missing,
The scent of death lingers
People crowd the room,
Yet loss consumes -
For now the room becomes a tomb,
A place cursed by harsh truths
A boy is gone,
Killed by a system -
Who criminalised colour,
The knock at the door, still echoes,
Haunted by the ghost of a warmth long gone
The room is still,
As if death has claimed the space,
Misery loves company -
And it’s favourite company - grief
We settled in for the long flight home,
the loud noise got our attention.
Dinner was served with a smile,
then the captain came on.
We blew out our tires on take off,
now for an emergency landing.
One Brief Unforgettable Moment.
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
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.