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
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
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
Darkness …
He opens his eyes
Confusion?
He is surprised
A badge. A uniform. An officer?
Memory - please remember
Blood, now dried, blood, he cried
The streets - where have they gone
He remembers a gun
Memories come pouring in …
He remembers being a victim
He is dead, the cause -
police brutality
Lights - camera - action
A call - anonymous - reaction
The scene - red - what happened?
Bodies, bodies, bodies
The weapon - a gun
The reason - still unknown
The reporters crowd like vultures
Each with their own bias,
Each with their own made-up story
But all with a common agenda -
Victimise the enemy - villanise the innocent
Black innocence, white guilt
They’ll focus, sympathy -
On the suspect - how up until now they were perfect
They were white, so they must be in the right
The victim was black - it had to be self defence
The news will claim it isn't a serious offence
The courts favour power
A badge equals - a get out of jail free card
The verdict comes in - the officer in question -
Was found -
Not guilty
A black boy stands in front of a mirror
Practicing how to address an officer
"Yes officer"
I promise I'm good
I won't cause no trouble just because I'm from the hood
I won't make a noise
I won't make a sound
I'll make sure to leave the hood of my hoodie down
No frown on my face
You dont need to tell me I already know my place
You dont need to remind me of my race
"Yes officer"
I am in school
I also have a future I'm looking forward to
No I don't sell drugs
I'm just playing football
And yes I live in this neighbourhood
Black people can be rich too
"Yes officer"
My father is around
Never been to prison but is the mayor of this town
As for my mother she is a lawyer and that makes me proud
We aren't on food stamps
In fact we are the type of people to give back
And yes we can afford to do that
"Yes officer"
I'm black
But that doesn't give you the right to attack
246 bullets
10 Cops
1 black man
And a lifetime of pain
1 funeral
1 courtroom
12 jurors
1 judge
1 verdict
Not guilty
1 claim of self defence
This is the world we live in
One in which black people choose freedom
Which is stolen From us
And white people have their skin
Which means they will automatically be acquitted
This is the world we live in
Stop being ignorant
She died in a body she hated
Her last memory was watching herself get assassinated
How she died isolated
Surrounded by a see of white faces
Who stood there being witnesses
To something that would be talked about across the ages
Her blood had painted the pavement
The cop stood there admiring his painting
She died in a body she hated
She didn't even get to experience the freedom
Of what it's like to experience self love
All her life she had spent her time being critical
To her blackness
Not only was her time stolen
But she didn't get to experience the joy that comes from
A black girl taking control
And realising she was never the problem
It was the system
Who destroyed her self image
And finally realising her blackness was a superpower
She died in a body she hated
The cause of death: racism
She died in a body she hated
Not realising the only reason they hated was because of their envy
And jealous behaviour
She died in a body she hated
Without finally understand her full potential
She died in a body she hated
Before her life had even started
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
What they did to tamir rice Cold as ice I'll give some advice Think twice Think thrice An innocent paid the price Which led to his demise This is a matter of black lives Our final goodbyes We look to the sky As we wipe our eyes A burning rage on the inside So then we devise And collect our allies To symbolise To vocalise Our need for you to apologise And recognise Your many lies You televise And improvise A way to criminalise Black lives
We’ll shoot. Don’t move.
Don’t talk or We’ll disapprove.
Don’t reach. We’ll kill.
Comply, Listen, Be quiet, Be still.
Four in the morning wake up.
Forget the horrors, don’t sip the death cup.
Get ready for work, put down the sharpened knife.
The first call will be in, gone is another life.
Typical day, it’s a suicide who blew off half his face.
Nothing a shotgun can’t erase.
Islands of dark red brain on the floor.
Smells as if an army of rotten animals went to war.
Next call. It’s winter. Grandma walked out.
Blame her dementia without a doubt.
She froze to death, standing, without a shout.
A limb is broken off, are you starting to get burnt out?
Cannot, it’s still the morning, what else lay ahead?
The car explosion, left two charcoaled bodies with no head.
Need answers? Go to the family they’ll treat you like vermin,
Pretend to not notice everyone views you as a burden.
Always witnessing the bodies enter an eternal slumber.
But mustn’t forget to remember,
The police are demons because you were speeding.
How dare they give you an attitude, their life has no meaning.
when i saw it i was sad angry hurt shocked, and sought my sanctuary
082420PSCtest, When Plans Don't Go To Plan, Silent One
Per rules: No caps, little to no punctuations
I
Love. Start by saying "Hello" to strangers
Even on Poetry Soup
II
Love somebody who seems "arrogant."
Or eliminate everyone who is not humble enough like you.
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