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D'anthony Allen Poem
Dear Sons,
Listen. Your mother and I love you. I helped plant you both through seeds of love. Your mother carried you, nurtured you inside of her body. But, You were made in His image. Beautiful and ingenious- you were shaped in it. So if adults in your lives fail to remind you with our words, God put his spirit inside your spinal cord. It can never bow down to Bel...that systemic racist entity that entices you to fail.
See through that telltale-
Walk upright in his sight. His spirit flows from your marrow to every vein. Even at this tender age, you’ve been adequately trained. A wise man once told me: “Making your mark on the world is hard. If it were easy, everybody would do it. But it's not. It takes patience, it takes commitment, and it comes with plenty of failure along the way.”
Taste the bitterness of defeat. Suck the painful, venomous hatred away from the wound when you witness Mr. Floyd’s June 4th funeral. You were probably reminded that “Some are teethed on a silver spoon, With the stars strung for a rattle.” Nevertheless, we are not black raccoons. We are royalty. We will recycle that bitterness and use it as the brine to fuel our own vessels of progress. We will not shy away from the fight.
Command your limbs to go to battle. With your hands, strengthened to fend off oppression by the skills you obtain through education and vocation. Legs swift to run towards justice, arms embracing your brothers and sisters and eyes focused on that prize of living bountiful earthly lives in preparation for eternity.
Reject Icarus. Blind ambition leads to erroneous decisions based on selfish positions.
Embrace your meteoric rise to greatness. Sky up like The Phoenix, or even Pegasus. Go All the way up and feel blessed.
Sincerely,
Your loving father who is patiently awaiting your legacy!
Copyright © D'Anthony Allen | Year Posted 2020
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D'anthony Allen Poem
Chapter 2, The 1492.
That’s where they like to begin. They skip over the terrorists activities of theft, plunder, and genocides. When we naively thought freedom was free, We paid our lives for it during the revolution. In 1770, they Crispus Attucks us, blatantly and openly attacked us. Years later, they correct the history and call it massacres. We liberated ourselves and they called it theft, put us on trial for defending ourself, we stood our ground but unlike someone else, we didn’t get a paid vacation. We didn’t receive a standing ovation. They invented slave patrols, wagons with the passenger riding shotgun as they circled the land that was owned by our oppressors. When they located us, they became judge, jury, and executioner. If we didn't have those papers, we’d become marked men, trying to avoid the stockades where human beings became marketings. Or worst, we’d be repaid with a death sentence and the foliage below our feet would become the hearse. Fugitive Slave Act, Stop and Frisk, all forced us to produce documentation to prove that we exist. Our skin may be black, but our bones are white just like theirs.
Chapter 3, The Trinity.
We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. It has taken countless years for this new backward society of outcasts to feign inclusion, and even then they adopted a racist institution of social, economic exclusion. B4 they killed those blameless little girls, they were blaming us for atrocities we didn’t commit, robbing us of the very rights they said we were born with. 1 foot on his neck. Too late to unlearn hate, 3 additional murderers. Groveland 4 Central Park 5, Jena 6, the 8 year old girl from Monroe North Carolina had a couple of her black male classmates arrested because she kissed them on the cheek. Scottsboro 9, all guilty until proven innocent. When they see us now, it's not as equals, not even as people. Don't speak unless spoken to even if I am a Man in Black, they're boys in blue. With that immaturity mixed with an inability to navigate novel experiences of hostility, I could lose my Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness in an instant!
Our bones are white, just like yours don’t break them.
Our blood is red, just like yours don’t spill it.
Our black lives matter just like yours, so please don’t kill it.
In Memory of George Floyd
Copyright © D'Anthony Allen | Year Posted 2020
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