Jim Crow

By JS

A Nation divided by frustration.
From racism, slipknots in a noose
Resulting in Asphyxiation.
Just from looking…at a woman that’s Caucasian.

I now know that liberty for all is a fraud,
And the symmetry dividing a friend and enemy
Is the line between the grave of a slave
And a “white” man’s ideology.

Like biology, I learned to dissect through
The flesh of a frog’s false reality,
That it can live in freedom
In protection of nature.

But like me
(Emmett Till)
He’s captured
For a tortuous experiment
Caused by hatred.

It’s like my soul feels
The vibrations
Of a tortured slave’s scream,
Begging for liberation.

Losing patience….
So I’m pacing….
In my cell praying
To God for blessings.

But my fundamental nature
is God’s essence.
So everyday I wake up
I’m in God’s presence.

This is God’s lesson.
If John 10:34 is true
Then I’m a vessel
For the miracle of God’s message.

Sermon of the Slave

By KC

I refuse to be grounded
By the clock pounded
Instead I will fly as one with time
To be a legend and never die
I am self, the undeniable truth
Even though the masses deny my worth—
by denying my freedoms
I am self-bonded by Blood, Iron and Pain
Transported over seas and through time
A lifetime of hate created by ignorance from others—
and self-destruction within
But still I fight—still I rise
And one day I will be free

B-2930…269-265

By CL

Time is often the destroyer of a young man’s dreams.
Hope is frequently the only nourishment for an emaciated soul.
How did you endure an era so blatantly inhumane,
Where a child’s only crime is being born a Jew?

I think back to my own hardship as a “Lifer” in prison.
When dark thoughts ravenously clawed at my will.
Threatening to drag me into the depths of hopeless abandon,
As the elusive hope of freedom took on a mystical quality.

A Lucky Child spoke to me in ways never before.
Tears of mine followed your march on frostbitten feet.
Injecting into my spirit an Odd Nansen state of being,
I pray for the moral strength not to compromise my dignity.

You have shown that when a person is subjected to terrible suffering,
That experience should teach us how to empathize with all people in need.
With Mutti’s unrelenting hope and love, Mundek’s courageous sacrifice …
You reclaimed your name from the number you were given.

 

Dedicated to:
Mr. Thomas Buergenthal
Survivor of Auschwitz death camp,
And author of A Lucky Child

My Struggle

By AF

They lock us in these cages
And throw away the key
Say it ain’t no hope for me
I was only sixteen
When they gave me eighteen
Man if they really really knew
All of the s*** we go through
Maybe they’ll provide a better way
And lil bruh still be here today
These streets is unsafe
Or do they really even care
That this s*** is unfair,
We living in the slums, so you better not run
Cause they’ll shoot you in your back
And justify your death
Say I took away his breath
‘Cause I thought he had a gun
And wasn’t nothing in your hand
Now do you see what I’m saying?
History keep on showing us
That America don’t accept us
But don’t listen to lil ole me
Just watch and see
Trump about to show you
That this ain’t that land of the free
Nor the home of the brave
Money, lies and graves is what this country really about
And how it was made…

Speak Child Speak

By MS

For my daughter

Speak, child, speak,
hold not your tongue because the question that you ask,
the answer that it brings may be the solution that saves us all

Speak, child, speak
Because ignorance is not bliss,
it is apathy to the mind.
It is the residue of stagnant thoughts that destroys itself fully
with the passions of time
& stagnation is death to young & old minds.

Speak, child, speak,
your voice may be the one that touches the world & shapes reality
into a paradise that women, men, & children may grow & peacefully live in.

Speak, child, speak,
Because my voice is old & un-remembered.
It is the weeping in the bowels of coffin ships & it is the creak of rope & wind
& silent kingdoms swaying in a sultry southern breeze,
it is the shackles of falsehoods binding me to inferior thoughts of mental slavery,
It is the sound of a fast life lived & lost in court rooms
silently weeping in cells trying to escape my self-created hell.

Speak, child, speak,
Because you are the Grace of God & the Dreams of a Nation.

SPEAK, CHILD, SPEAK