rusted shackles
remnants of enslavement
shackles reforged as ink pens
legal papers drafted
renaissance of bondage
enslavement
vessel…
these are not
my emotions
this anger
and fear
is older than
my years
upon this earth
it is the taste
of dried blood
and the dust
of those once
enslaved
freed by death
to wander with
whatever winds
reach into soul
to reanimate
their words
so their sorrow
and stories
can be retold
these are not
my words
so expect
no apologies
or
absolution
of social sins
the dead
cannot make
such offerings
to the living
they can only
recall the sins
you’ve lived
and
the pain
you’ve bestowed
the time machine…
Reynold Brown, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
most americas
have been living like elois
so unaware that
beneath democracy’s soil
morlocks are feasting on them
course of study…
whitewashed history
pages of propaganda
taught in public schools
subjugation without chains
an embedded enslavement
bequeathed…
these
are
inherited tears
part
of
our estate
for
over two hundred years
of
enslavement
oh
it’s not
that
there weren’t
other items
business accounts
land
and
such
but
those were
appropriated
along with
personal dignity
in order
to justify
a false sense
of
superiority
of
primitive people
who
left to their own devices
were
unable to survive
in
a truly competitive world
so
were given
what
was ours
so
we were left
with
inherited tears
and
rage
cannibals…
you’ve
sworn off meat
out of
your
considerable concern
for
animal welfare
and
as a protest
of
how cruelly
such docile beast
are treated
but
though
it’s
not
on the label
the warehouse
frozen
discount fish
you eat
was caught
by
enslaved fishermen
so
you are
partaking
of
their flesh
and
blood
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
