Racism

Eyes wide shut,

I can see the dead caucuses

 of ash and dust mites eating at my flesh.

 I have become the old tired drunk suicide.

 My bones aching and tired

of reasons to move, to communicate,

expand and move on.

 Images of decayed rusted and

starving dreams die. I age with desire

of being strong. Weak and tired,

I am holding on. One eye shut,

I can feel the voices

peeling away my flesh,

letting go, holding on,

wanting to be loved.

The voices stitch the seams

of my soul, moving on from the dark

to discover hope.

The trumpets playing

their musical ensemble,

 pa pa papaya pa pa, pa pa pa,

 pa pa, pa pa. Light pierce through

the wounds of joy.

 Echoing sounds before my dreams.

I’m not asleep yet....

We are within a storm

facing a struggle over.

I fail, I rise, I fall, I stand tall.

 

Truce, written by Poet Angela Khristin Brown

 

If I were to tell you

 what someone told me,

I might miss a detail or two.

I hold inside broken dreams,

 broken lies,

broken promises I step aside.

Black and white

in rage, love and hate

 like two birds in a bush.

With all the rage and madness

What am I left to do?

Thoughts of suicide,

race through my mind

from time to time

I am racing time.

Black and white

I heard the rumors

A thousand times

I’m not going nowhere,

I break down in cry.

My tears flowing

into the river of life.

Black on white

building blocks of promise

we live in fear

danger is near.

Black and white

I'm afraid of the dark

I cannot trust

I do not know

this course of history.

Black and white

have become the colors

no one understands.

we are in troubled waters

pointing at words of blame

at one another

waiting in the waters of pain

you are hating me

I am not like you

I am hating you

You don't know me

well enough to spread

those rumors.

Black and white

in all hatred

love and war

the rumors spread

 got our feelings hurt,

by the words being shared

in truth and dare,

we are both confused

and unaware,

we failed to forgive

we dared to learn to channel our hate

in goodness and health

we build these walls

we made these walls

we become these walls

we tear down these walls

we rise, we fall

life is not a game

we love, we hate

one in the same

I must define my purpose

with the words needed to say

 

letting go

 

 

This poem is about: 
My community
My country

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