missionary work…

 

after returning home
to
africa
a friend
wrote
don’t mean
any
offense
but
after
studying history
and
seeing
what’s
recently transpired
your nation
has
never been
as
advertised
united

 

legal injustice …

pair of old work boots
sold as if they were brand new
like promised freedom
but boots have structural flaws
they don’t have any bootstraps

 

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

herd immunity…

group resistant to
the rule of law and justice
because of their badge

 

an incomplete life…

the empty spaces
wedged between your dreams are fears
forced in by others

 

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

 

an old cottonwood…

an
old black man
sitting
on
yesterday’s dreams
said
that tree
was
growing
for
just over
a 154 years
before
folks
cut it down
leaving
its stump
so
it keeps on
sending out
shoots
as i understand it
its
taproot
runs
deep
into
this nation’s soil
straight down
to
the river
of
racism
flowing
below
the surface
of
freedom’s
words