When I putout a call for poetryto respond to the death of George Floyd and the protests against police brutality that have followed, readers responded with poignant poems. Here are a few:
Black Lives Matter-inspired poetry by readers showcases thoughts on protests, police brutality
My Sweet Boy
By Tanya Parker
Momma, Momma —
Send the angels
It’s my neck
My Sweet Boy —
Dusk is about to set
Nine months, nine minutes
Can’t cry ’cause I know
what’s to come next
All of Heaven awaits you
a few more minutes
my sweet boy,
then no more memory
my sweet boy.
America Has a Rash
By Valerie M. Street
From the founding of the nation, America has had a rash.
It is racist, ageist, sexist and homophobic in its core.
George Floyd’s death just put the spotlight on the original sin.
The country now says “Black Lives Matter,” but they don’t.
Four hundred and one years after being brought against our will; battered, bombed, raped, abused, used, hung on a tree, or under a knee by people that can’t “see” our humanity.
什么时候结束?
Must one side always win? or lose? or cry, or die or lie about the truth of what is right before their eyes?
In a world of hate and pain, can Love ever reign again?
Like it did in the beginning in that great garden giving all humanity rainbow colors of life and love and love and love.
I choose Life,
I choose Light,
I will choose to Breathe unending Love,
我们将生活在爱的精神— IF we all choose that too.
Imagine the Face
By Alice Connelly Nagle
There is a distant
and constant whining
of sirens, blocks
or miles away. Now
a whirring of helicopters,
blades that thump
and fade into the
dark of a new kind of
prison. I am locked in
my small kitchen world,
caught in its fragrance of
salmon, sweat, and
disinfectant.
There it is again,
the crying of distressed
police cars. Some pines
have been cut and
the black air is open from
the yard to the Bay,
not far from lights where
terror bristles.
The birds
must be asleep,
asleep or hiding,
waiting for the relief of
morning. Suddenly a burst
of firecrackers, or guns,
a grey light like fog
or gas, though no-one is seen
in the neighborhood. No children’s
voices, just crackling sounds
and the silent restraint of
unopened flowers. George Floyd
is so dead. Imagine the face
of someone you love pasted
onto his body. Imagine
a public and torturous death.
It makes me think of the Christ
of my childhood, a nailed man
we were asked to study, hanging
from a cross. Imagine
so that we would understand
him as God, but also
human. A son.
Natural Observation
By Charles Wright
Elegant black wings float in meditative serenity
Riding the volatile, shifting air currents
Where valleys, wind and temperature collide.
In stark contrast to the crystal blue sky …
High above the earthly chaos
Perpetually observing …
Quietly side slipping with highly tuned control
To obtain a divergent perspective
Patiently waiting for the moment
WHEN BLACK LIVES MATTER.
Black Lives Matter
By Smita Deshpande
All lives matter some like to say,
But truth be told it’s never been that way.
Devalued from birth,
denied basic rights,
为他人授予,Blacks must always fight.
Systemically downtrodden, diminished, degraded,
Presumption of innocence none, automatically indicted.
At risk, in harm’s way, exposed to danger,
When their doorsteps they cross and outside they venture.
Their homes, man’s castle, not a guarantee,
No promise of safety or sanctity.
No daytime stroll in the park just for a lark
Harassed, hounded, hunted, killed if out after dark.
With distrust, doubt, derision always greeted,
Unfairness and injustice routinely meted.
Of moral and national duty a shocking dereliction,
If there is no collective mission and immediate correction.
So time to stand up, words repeatedly to utter,
Black lives are valued and unequivocally matter.
Harrowing
By Jan Hartnett Lewis
Hearses pass again. Individuals separate
One to return home, another to a box
Waiting for earth, flame, dust. Grief
Douses plans for tomorrow and broken time shifts agency
Over to brother, sister, parent, spouse, a child
Your friend, your dearly beloveds here to remember.
Only this time the coffins, all of them, rise up, connect
Uniting one death after another in a pulsing line
Uniting the dead and the living seeking justice we
See murder behind murder in mirror behind mirror, the faces
Eyes seeing, lips saying, hearts breaking
You try to make sense of what breaks sense
Only to be left in grief for what’s done.
Undone: a life to be lived; undone: habitual
Retreats from other people’s lives, their realities.
Power — whose power does this? Whose power fixes?
Only say the word and heal my soul — a prayer.
We have lived too long with no change coming.
Every coffin dweller in this long line
Reserves the right to be heard — what happened? How
To make life better for those in pain — whose work?
Once mourning starts, the coffins receive
Wave after wave — pain, rage and grief
Harrow new paths in an old indifferent land
And attest to a tipping point. This energy pivots out
To move all in its way, wave after wave
Ending things as they were, breathing new life
Navigating around blockades, through all that
Denies human dignity, equal protection and just law.
Are we in this together for the long haul?
Normal
By Glenn Dizon
if the arc
of this story
is to return to normal
and throw this moment
onto the bonfires of history
to reduce the pain and suffering
to smoke and ash
then we have lost
the opportunity
to illuminate
for all future generations
that normal
may just be
the arc of complacency
that brought
us here
in the first place
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