Image courtesy of VectorStock
Dancing for a time
While arrogance grew.
We were better, best–
With nothing left to prove
Glorious above any others–
God’s chosen led by the chosen one,
Or so they claimed
While people died in the streets.
We turned our fingers orange with Cheeto dust,
Stuffing our mouths,
And didn’t care who died.
It was all for our entertainment, anyway.
We watched democracy die
With Lady Liberty and Justice
Beaten bloody in the streets.
But hey, Walmart had toilet paper and Doritos–
And that’s what really mattered.
We screamed about white, black, blue
Red, and all the rainbow colors
Until our screams and colors bled
Into midnight blackness
Then the lights went out
When God’s Grace got up and left.
Photo courtesy of Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt Veiled #writephoto
For visually challenged writers, the image shows a green horizon, beyond which the mist veils a hill topped with strange rock formations.
I knelt before God
as the earth was formed.
For ages I have been here,
spirit of stone unmoving,
waiting above the forest land.
I am the tonnage of stones,
living veiled behind swirling mists.
Yet, I am billions of stones,
existing beyond the veil.
I press the earth for meaning
when I hear the children of earth wail
of suffering through centuries.
I rise above the peace of forest land,
lifting the tonnage of anger I carry.
I am the billions of stones now,
moving beyond the veil.
I have risen, the world,
in the weight of stone,
the children of earth will not be moved.
Behind the veil, I am the tonnage of stones.
I will retreat there when this time is done.
We were silent,
Back in the day,
When death came
In white hoods, noose in hand
To hang our darker sisters and brothers.
We were silent
When death went
Across an ocean
With bent crosses, yellow stars, and gasses
for the Jew.
We were silent
Back in the day
When death came
For our gay brothers
Who pleaded with us–
Silence equals death.
A lesson we’ve not learned yet.
No words for all this
As we shake our heads
Our silence kills yet again
And another black man dies,
Crushed under authority.
Yes, silence equals death.
We cannot stay silent
If we believe a nation’s promise
Time for us to stand up
And find the words to say–
Should you do this
To our darker sisters and brothers
You do it to us all.
We are the burning flame
Burning away the old ways.
6th and Jefferson in Louisville. This is a line of white people forming a barrier between Black protestors and the police. This is love. This is what you do with your privilege. #NoJusticeNoPeace #SayHerName #BreonnaTaylor Photo credit: Tim Druck
Although I am not white, I admit I enjoy white privilege because most people perceive me as white. My mother was Melungeon, a mix raced people of Appalachia, and my real father was of Hispanic heritage. Most people look at me and see white features and assume a Greek or Italian heritage. Yes, some ignorant people have said stupid, racist things to me because of their assumption of my whiteness. In light of recent events, the privilege given to me by my features and skin color demands that I stand up to help.
We sat silent, complacent too long
Our children safe.
Between threats to our black and brown
Sisters and brothers,
We must shield– intrepid, resolute,
taking spit, hits,
gas, lash, bricks
even death, should it come to that
So nothing touches them.
We must fulfill the promise of our nation—
All are equal