self-protection…

before
their eyes
opened
fine threads
of
social expectation
were
layered
around
the infant form
distorting
the view
of
the outside world
and
stunting
the growth within
an arrested development
caused by
a malnutrition
of
truth
as had been expected
with such containment
there were fatalities
but such deaths
were easily
projected onto upbringing
and

or
personal parental failures
leaving the society
blameless
those that
finally
emerged
from
the cultural cocoon
were
as
had been planned
unable to discern
social injustice
accepting
the white cane
of
forced poverty
that denied
them access
to
most of the entry points
of
success
living their lives
as
moths
flutter around
the flame
of
hate
most disconcerting
to
the oligarchy
however
were
the few
that emerged
as
dragons

 

i have a dream…

thousands of pieces
all your life’s expectations
littering your mind
unkept social promises
they remain unsigned contracts

 

justice system…

race based procedures
to maintain poor’s oppression
and white’s privileges

 

abstruse omissions…

i am
the empty space
between
enslavement
and
freedom
the chasms
between
what
was
promised
and
what came
to
pass
foolish dreams
from
an ignored
lover
of
freedom
who sees
nothing more
than
redefined moments
of
forgotten stories
of
the true founders
of
this nation
hidden
between
the printed lines
of
history books
written
in
the invisible blood
of
those enslaved
whose
undiscovered
mass graves
are concealed
by
the blank spaces
between
the lines
of
lies
your eyes
should tread
carefully
through
those spaces
so
as not
to
disturb
the
dead
for
seeing
what lies
beneath
the surface
of
this nation’s myths
could
make you
shed
tears
of
shame

 

singing a tired refrain again…

the city’s
opened up some
so
streets
have begun
to
be re-inhabited
by
dreamers
and
shadow people
when
i saw
the brown bag prophet
he seemed
none the worst
for
the wear
when
i asked
about
his being
he replied
nothing
has changed
myths of freedom
still
circulate
among
the masses
who’ve
ignored
the history
of
america
they continue
to
sing refrains
sung
since enslavement
one more river to cross
or
to let my people go
as if
one more compromise
or
prayer
will
make
a difference
son
the one thing
i’ve learned
in
this life
is
enslavement
never ended
nor
was
it intended
to
end
subjugation
of
people of color
has been
and
continues
to be
codified
in the actions
and
laws
of
the nation
but
we keep singing
freedom songs
as if
the words
are
some magical incantation
but
child
my father’s
father
sang
those songs
so
i know the words
well
as well as
what
will come
from
them

 

a flag’s silhouettes of death…

you
demanded
that
i
stand for the flag
while
insisting
i should fall
at
your feet
whenever you
offer
some morsel
of
freedom
but
it was my family
that paid
in
blood
for the wealth
of
this nation
we have been
enslaved
beaten
degraded
and
murdered
for
centuries
without
cessation
of
violence
against us
for all
of
those years
and
yet
you pretend
to be
offended
when
anyone
questions
why
gratitude
should be shown
for
a history
of
barbarism

 

the book of dying: 1:8…

while some starved others grew fat
demanding the weak carry their load
the indebted workers had no choice
so made gold they couldn’t hold

 

wearer beware…

there were
oceans
of
dreams
spilling over
my
youthful hours
hours
spent
naively blind
to
to my own
history
and
constrained beliefs
that
social propaganda
applied
to
my
thinking
webs
of
lies
spun
into
history books
and
daily routines
webs
of
deceit
molded
into
invisible
leg irons
lighter
than
air
so
we wearers
were
unaware
of
their presence
but
they
have been
far
more
confining
than
those cast
of
iron
for
if one
controls
the soul
then
there is
no
escape

 

dead on arrival…

i lie
in
an open grave
the
stars stare
at
me
in amazement
of
my foolish beliefs
that
i was
free
and could
become
and
attain
anything
but
the stars
know
for they have watched
men
for
centuries
and
understand
that few
are
free
and that
most
are slaves
to
the desires
of
others
though
vassals believe
it
is their desires
that
command
the course
of
their future
but
that
is mere
delusion
a systemic inculcation
carefully
crafted
for
the benefit
of
those in power
a lie
repeated
so
many times
that
like a child
told
to believe
in
the unbelievable
believes
a sandstone dream
the banks
of
one’s soul
on
a raging river
of
greed
only
recognized
when
the shore
of
faith
gives way
and
you end up
in
an
open grave
being
stared at
by
the stars