#blm poetry

[schoolhater]

Poem by Marcellus Williams

source

call script to urge the state not to kill him

[tygerland]

[stephen-stilwell]

Don't be afraid of letting her take the lead. Trust that she's making the right decisions.

[nyiibat2]

How to be a better ally to brown communities and issues!!!

Boost and share our posts and stories.

Educate yourself about the issue/issues at hand from people that are a part of the community experiencing it first hand.

NEVER EVER TELL A PERSON OF THAT COMMUNITY HOW TO REACT OR FEEL ABOUT A SITUATION!! that’s just white entitlement and tone deaf

Acknowledge your privilege and educate yourself on how to help instead of hurt with it.

Acknowledge and accept that you as a white person will NEVER EVER EVER feel and experience a situation as deeply and emotionally as a brown community. Generational trauma is real and we feel it.

Be respectful at protests, we want peace and equality, being a twat during call to actions and protests backfires on us.

Learn the best way to support us and our causes when the time comes.

We do not care that you’re guilty for what your ancestors did. You wanna make it right? Support us and unlearn the oppressive behaviors that you were taught.

[coralgreenroses]

don't we all bleed the same color?

don't you feel the same pain

don't you feel the same sadness

were we not brothers and sisters and neighbours

before the world told us

who we should be?

before they told you to hate on color

before they told you to hate on religion

before they told you to hate on each other

who were we before the

hatred?

[dear-older-brother]

And when you narrow it all down

Sift through all the memories

You’re still the only one of your kind

You’re a rarity that is met with distain

You cannot scrub the shame away

The pigment left behind

From your foul blood

Is a constant reminder

That you are not the same

You are not welcome here

[threads-and-pages]

The day will come when the only worry of a Palestinian grandparent will be their grandchildren stumbling and scraping their knees.

One day, hopefully as soon as possible, the greatest fear of a Palestinian child will be the test they didn't study for.

I hope that soon the Palestinian people will have the privilege to worry and fear trivial things like not getting their favorite spot on the train, or their friend who only plays sad songs no one knows taking out the ukulele at a good party.

I wish for every single Palestinian, as I do for every oppressed person in the world, the privilege that every human should have, to only have to worry about inconsequential things and for their biggest problem when they go to bed to be the pillow that makes their neck a bit stiff in the morning.

For all of this to be possible the first thing that needs to happen is a ceasefire, and the second, which must happen immediately after, is the end of the occupation, the restitution of all those family homes stolen by settlers and reparations. Maybe only then will the world be able to start paying back a fraction of what we owe the Palestinian people for all the strife and grief and pain we were complicit in.

[jh-wills]

I will not shoot myself In the head, and I will not shoot myself In the back, and I will not hang myself With a trashbag, and if I do, I promise you, I will not do it In a police car while handcuffed Or in the jail cell of a town I only know the name of Because I have to drive through it To get home. Yes, I may be at risk, But I promise you, I trust the maggots Who live beneath the floorboards Of my house to do what they must To any carcass more than I trust An officer of the law of the land To shut my eyes like a man Of God might, or to cover me with a sheet So clean my mother could have used it To tuck me in. When I kill me, I will Do it the same way most Americans do, I promise you: cigarette smoke Or a piece of meat on which I choke Or so broke I freeze In one of these winters we keep Calling worst. I promise if you hear Of me dead anywhere near A cop, then that cop killed me. He took Me from us and left my body, which is, No matter what we've been taught, Greater than the settlement A city can pay a mother to stop crying, And more beautiful than the new bullet Fished from the folds of my brain.

Jericho Brown, Bullet Points (2019)

[midmint-blossom]

“Y’all love to say black don't crack, yet you shatter our melanin like glass.”- unknown

[sleepysera]

"Now, I do not understand Why God don't protect a man From police brutality. Being poor and black, I've no weapon to strike back So who but the Lord Can protect me?"

-Langston Hughes, "Who But the Lord?" (1949)

[tiefling-queer]

idk how anyone can look at the DNC's zionism, mishandling of covid, refusal to move on codifying protections for abortion rights or the transgender community, border control, police funding - look the fuck around at all the shit that has been happening with a dem in office, how can anyone look at what it is currently like in the us and abroad and claim that this is what it'll be like under trump so make sure you continue to support the DNC and don't do anything that could possibly impact their chances of getting biden elected again

i'm so fucking sick of it, of this willful and blatant and so fucking self-righteous ignorance.

yknow when someone describes current conditions under capitalism and then calls it socialism or even communism? that's libs with calling conditions under DNC leadership 'trump's america'

[stephen-stilwell]

We held hands for ten minutes while we sat up on the moon. I counted three shooting stars, and we kissed on our little cosmic picnic.

[ghostk1d666]

This is something I wrote when I was 15. Please I was young and the world is more woke but I thought it might be interesting.

Don't mix my mother told me.

I was shocked.

My mother had head black friends and at the time i thought she wasn't a racist.

She said to me that i can be friends with a skin of another color.

But if i dare to touch them, letting their black skin ruin my white skin pale as snow

That i would not be treated like the human i was treated before.

I feel as if my mother does not understand the word

Love.

She sees that love should only extend to a certain point.

I argue with her, telling her that my beliefs are different, that my opions and point of views were different so the conversation wouldn't continue on and so i could make a point of where i stood.

But i was soon told that my beliefs were just phases and that i had been raised different-to believe in the family beliefs.

Because beliefs and range of thinking ,to them are tape that they put up as you were in the womb. But what they do not understand is that this generation has taught me over my mother's words that you should love who you love, and not judge on the base of someone's skin, where their from, or who they love.

Because love is something that no one can control. So why fight against it?

Why not let love be free?

I was told not to mix.

I was told i could see but not touch.

But mother, i am not ok with this.

If it is someone i love i do not care what “colors” you said they will leave

Because once my heart chooses who it wants and this world was destined for something great

Than your racial beliefs.

[kcyars520]

1. “Books -where if people suffered, they suffered in beautiful language, not in monosyllables, as we did in Kansas” – I Wonder as I Wander: An Autobiographical Journey, 1956

2. “My soul has grown deep like the rivers.” -The Negro Speaks of Rivers, 1920

3. “Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.” -”April Rain Song”

4. “Hold fast to your dreams, for without them life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.” – Montage of a Dream Deferred, 1951

5. “Ever’thing there is but lovin’ leaves a rust on yo’ soul. An’ to love sho ‘nough, you got to have a spot in yo’ heart fo’ ever’body – great an’ small, white an’ black, an’ them what’s good an’ them what’s evil – ‘cause love ain’t got no crowded-out places where de good ones stay an’ de bad ones can’t come in. When it gets that way, then it ain’t love.” – Not Without Laughter, 1930

6. “7 x 7 + love = An amount Infinitely above: 7 x 7 – love.” – The Collected Poems, 1995

7. “…the only way to get a thing done is to start to do it, then keep on doing it, and finally you’ll finish it,….” – The Big Sea, 1940

8. “Frosting Freedom Is just frosting On somebody else’s Cake– And so must be Till we Learn how to Bake.” – The Panther & the Lash, 1926

[tychodorian]

CW: Politics, LGBTQ Rights, Native Rights, BLM I'm tired. 

Tired of waking up with nightmares in my head.  Blood boiling. All I see is a future that is just so... 

 Disappointing. 

 I'm tired. 

 Tired of explaining the basics of right and wrong. I'm sick Of people who preach love like it's some moneymaking gimmick. 

 I hate social media. The hate spreader's Mecca Ruiner of relationships and Box of pandora. 

 If you hate Black people, the LGBT, and Native Americans, Unfriend me. I never Want to see your face again. 

 People spew things  you'd never thought they'd think. I see some posts and They put me on the brink 

 Of insanity. 

 It's insane to me That people born on a pillar Don't care about their neighbor Who's born six feet deep 

 God Bless America The land of opportunity We love our brothers and sisters While we build our hate army 

 Of microaggressions, "I can't pronounce your name"s And "are you Mexican?" 

It's insane That you say that You love everyone... Except him. And her. And them. 

You say you love Jesus But you voted for a man Who's the devil, Or the second coming. 

Depending. 

And he may not be that bad, 

But he's a catalyst For every swastika on a Jewish school For every "Hail Hitler" At Fiddler on the Roof 

 But thank God he's the Spark of conversation That makes you realize Exactly who your friends are. 

 That makes your skin crawl In the middle of the night Or wakes you up with dreams Before first light 

And you realize you can do nothing. 

 You're like me, Taking a pen To your social media feed, Giving Pandora her afternoon tea.

What can words do if you have a gun They'll run. Blood splatter red. After all, they can't oppose you if they're dead. 

 So out we go and vote Use our right to change But every time we vote Everything stays the same. 

 This time, it was an election of firsts, But how many firsts until things get better? Every time we vote, The swamp gets wetter. 

 First Muslim, first gay man, First woman, first Native American, But how many is enough? Can these warriors, Armed with pen instead of sword, Kill a hydra? 

Can they prevent another lynching Another shooting Another Hiroshima? 

I'm tired. 

Of explaining privilege to people Born with a silver spoon Yeah, you had to work hard, But the system made you immune. 

I'm tired. Of seeing 12 Shot Dead On the 6 o clock news. 

All I can do with this pen Is make people angry Whether at me, a snowflake, Or the system that built me.

Pandora, let's open it, Your box. Where's your key? While I shout into the internet, Another American Soliloquy.