A poem critiquing the theft of black America, and a tribute to the late Pop Smoke Featured Image credit : REUTERS/Darren Ornitz They love the way that we dance… And they love the way that we move… And they love the way that we rock… And they love all the shit that we do… And
Sweet requiems that serenade ears become eerie screeches from sirens filled with tears when dreams and fantasies become tainted with everyone else’s fears Our eyes become blinded by the singing of other’s concepts that plague our mind-frames into believing that what we wished for isn’t a complete idea And instead of steering our own ship
Sundry fragments The sundry fragments of my soul are splattered across the globe in search of new Ways to become bold, brave, and no longer afraid Staring in a rage as I blame the world for my soul being in disarray attempting to discover my place in this paradigm controlled by dissonance Sundry fragments sprinkle
I stepped outside today, Felt the fresh early spring as I ran, The birds were serenading to the world, She was listening, However, Our world was silent. No sirens, No people. I took the liberty of running without music, to hear the sweet melodies of my world, and one sound was missing. The bustle of
Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay
Father and son, Rob Marmion / Shutterstock.com Dear dad, I wonder if you have pictures of me, and reminisce on the times we used to play basketball in the park, Do you remember playing your PlayStation basketball game? and me watching right next to you trying to learn the controls, and getting frustrated that I
Fear liquidates through the psyche and infuses itself within our minds, decimating rationality within an instant. Shredding any sentiments of desire to realize, That fear feels like pressure condensing your head and testing your ability to navigate through the challenge in front of you. We quiver in fear when the unknown is presented to us.
This is a tough conversation to have. Mothers are special people. They give you the gift of life, They teach you so much growing up and do it to the best of their knowledge. But so many of them, especially in the black and Latino community are toxic. they don’t give you a voice, are
Love from the root, all the way to the treetop. The very feeling of Black love is in its core a natural phenomenon. The dedication to one another to grow, the need to fight oppression, the need to create, to love, to live, to learn There is something about black love that is so massive,
