prayers to you

what’s it all about,
you coming into
this scared space
spewing your hate?
why not go outside
to the streets
into the Light –
strong and proud
expressing as you perceive:
that only white lives matter
all people of color
have “it” coming
that their lives mean nothing.
prayers to you,
for you truly know not
what it is you do.
you have forgotten
what You really are;
alas, you can see but so far-
only to the level of the skin
so utterly limited you are,
tightly constricted
unseen, likely never really heard,
lonely in your Little Box
amidst your tribe
of hardened have nots.
from such profound lack,
you shame and blame
easily kill and maim,
desperately looking outside
for what does not exist within.
no present capacity to self-reflect
nor the tools to adequately take stock
and practice personal responsibility.
fervent prayers for the lost pieces of you-
may you soon re-member and awaken.

 

I can’t breathe!

“I can’t breathe!!”

we, people the color of night’s sky, have been saying –
pleading-
for centuries.
What part of this do you not understand?
Are you not human
like me –
flesh
bone
blood?
A parent like me –
mother
sister
father
brother
like me?!
Look into my eyes
deep into The Soul
as I gaze into
The Essence of you.
Hear me:
I can’t breathe.
Tell me:
How does it feel
to have your knee
pinned to my back-
digging deep,
crushing with intention.
How does it serve you
to tie your noose
around my neck
stifling my breath
as I sway
gently
from the poplar tree?
Look into my eyes –
see what I see
so very clearly:
whatsoever you do
unto me,
you too
shall reap.
We
can’t
breathe.

The Long Arm of Slavery

Molecular memory,
this may inform
the long arm of slavery.

The past
reaching relentlessly
into the future.
Those who were once deemed “master”
carry the seeds of feeling superior-
better than those they enslaved:
the men shackled and emasculated;
the women relegated to nannies and maids,
their dark bodies laid open
to cavalierly invade.

Trauma being made
on and in both sides;
a slow
imperceptible
suicide.

When will we finally realize…

 

Waking from a Deep Sleep

I am

waking

from a deep sleep,

wondering

Where am I?
What is it
I had to eat?
How did I get here
to these beliefs?

I rub my eyes

as I try

to make sense

of what has become complete nonsense.

I hear the ancestors cry;
they ask why?

Why are you and your kin moving back?
Do you not realize this is a slap
in the face
to those who were brave?
Don’t allow our sacrifice and pain
to have been made in utter vain-
wasted blood, sweat, and tears
over the course of hundreds of dark years!

Wake up from your deep sleep,
the antecedents weep.

It is now your turn to learn
that freedom ain’t free;
it is your sacred responsibility
to the past, present and future
family.

America

“O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me. And yet I swear this oath-America will be!” Langston Hughes

 

My country

strives to be

a sweet Land of Liberty,

a Crown of Beauty,

from sea to shining sea-

an example

a beacon

to other countries

and peoples

to witness

the possibility

of beloved community

amidst vast diversity,

of justice

amidst adversity,

of kindness

in the midst of such plenty.

America,

this grand, young experiment

in democracy-

governance

of

for

by

We, The People.

Still struggling with its meaning,

back and forth, we go;

to and fro,

from the high

to the very low.

Another birthday,

America 

tentatively celebrates,

expressing gratitude

for what is good.

While also cultivating

a firm commitment

to manifesting

for all

that which is

honorable,

innocent,

hopeful

within the

imperfect,

complex,

uncomfortable

experiment

that gave birth to a nation

of immigrants.