Heather Heyer

By KW

Your mother put it best,
“They tried to kill my child to shut her up. Well, guess what?
You just magnified her”
You can rest assured, Heather, I will never forget you
My expression when speaking of you will always show
How much I respect the stance you took against divisiveness
How you truly are a Hero and Champion of the people,
How you are representing real American Values, Morals, and Creed.
Trust me Big Sis, I’ll keep marching on your behalf.
I’ll keep standing against inequality and injustice.
Using whatever tools I have to ensure champions like you?
Will live on
Thank you for your service, courage, and commitment
At ease, Soldier. At ease.

“She was murdered by the BRUTALITY OF EVERY SHERIFF who practiced LAWLESSNESS in the name of the LAW. She was murdered by the IRRESPONSIBILITY of EVERY politician from Governors on down to who FED his constituents the stale BREAD of HATRED and the SPOILED MEAT OF RACISM. She was murdered by the COWARDICE of EVERY NEGRO who passively accepts the EVILS of segregation, and who STAND on the SIDELINES in the struggle for JUSTICE.”
– Dr. Martin Luther King

(Speech originally given March 3, 1965 at Jimmie Lee Jackson’s funeral service. I replaced the “he” with “she” to fulfill my point)

Trapped

By AD

Trapped in this cage,
Am I justified to feel rage?
or should I use this experience as fuel to ignite a blaze,
a scorching inferno burning, turning all the hate to ashes,
where justice applies to all, not just those in the lower classes,
But is it really Justice, where the symbol they use is blind?
The endless cycle of poverty,
Consumerism used as a tool to enslave my mind.
Poverty, just like robbery, it should be labeled as a crime.
Resources stripped from our communities, it strengthens yours,
while it weakens mine. Now you wonder why I’m mad.
Violent tendencies to express my anger, those who should protect me.
I run because in them I sense danger.
I’m still trapped in this cage, but no, it’s not of the physical kind.
It’s your multifaceted master plan – tools you use to enslave my mind.

They Don’t Want Us to Recite Our Poems

By AG

They don’t want us to recite our poems, don’t want the people to behold any signs or see any symbols and they d-mn sure don’t want us to know that the ancestors are with us. They don’t want us to recite our poems.

They fear the foreign sounds of our secret language: Hope. They thought it long dead. They are afraid of the spread of our fever how it creeps along the sense—our hearing and seeing, our awakening perception, our ability to sniff out what’s false.

The willingness to feel our most painful wound, the taste of blood on our lips. They don’t want us to recite our poems.

They are afraid of the promise of our spring, the way mother earth blushes green for us, hiding her gift in full view of both the strong and weak alike.

She has shown us fine stones in a babbling brook: love, faith, courage, tenacity, and understanding. They fear the inevitable fall of their rampaging giants.

They don’t want us to recite our poems. They want us to die with our songs unsung. They want to bury our burnt-out husks perfectly preserved shells, with sightless eyes of bitter black smoke and a mouthful of tightly clenched pearl-white teeth, trapping inside, for all eternity, the music that they desperately fear.

They don’t want us to recite our poems.

Unsolved Mysteries

By DW

Blindness affecting love
War obliterating peace
Miles and miles of loneliness
And for what?
No one knows.
Freedom locked away forever
and at what cost?
Will no one unbury the lost?
Will the children of the stars forever cry?
Will their tears continue to flood the streets?
Who will answer for this?
Secrets being revealed
Water polluted
And for what?
And at what cost?
Who will answer for this?
No one knows