Another Untitled Poem

Hello

Have you ever lived under constantly stormy skies?

One wonders what the sun even looks like at this point

Some rays did show from across the Atlantic

Unlikely sources including a champion

Offered some solar essences

They were appreciated

Yet it was no panacea

One still wanted to trade their existence for another

Finally an Official Holiday, But There Should Be More (Juneteenth)

Tomorrow would be the first time it became federal

This 2nd Independence Day of sorts had every right to be known

156 years too long

For all to know about that important day

The papers were signed and the calendars will have it for future generations

While a federal holiday was a good gesture

Bigotry didn’t and wouldn’t stop there

The hatred towards those descended from the emancipated was still at a fever pitch

The denials of American history become stronger

Attempting to burn the books despite the net existing

Was freedom truly free?

Was there a pure jubilation in sight?

After the last one was found in Galveston all this time

Would “All people are created equal” actually mean what is says on paper?

Plica Vocalis Retribution

They wanted the purest silence

24 karat taciturn acoustics

Whenever the “wrong” kind of male voice is spotted in earshot

Not a raised one or a defiant one

Just existing made them inflamed

Vying for the erasure for the crime of just being

Excuses compound together

Under the subterfuge of azure eyes

The extraction happened

No contract, warnings, or potions

Yet chaining the vocal cords

The desire to bring it back scorched brightly

Once the morales lower than Mariana’s Trench were in sight

Diving towards a thousand fathoms

Where no one can hear anyone scream

Vocal larceny was at it’s peak

And it was a challenge to get it back

How dare they rob the sound

Once the voice would be retrieved

Only a more aggressive homage to a devil ray mage crafted by the Rising Sun

Yet transplanted from a Nordic kingdom would suffice for them

The thievery guild will be repaid in kind

Forever the muted scourges

Writhing without sound

As bodies dissolve into foam

On the acidic ocean they created

Such retribution was a primal scream

When the thieves became infautated by their romance of one person’s silence

Obscured Atrocities

Sometimes I want to burn my diploma and degree

When the autodidact grabbed the driver seat

History was redacted and crossed out

Before excavating began

Gasps were emitted

When the bodies and blood were revealed

The horrors became more gross

As the tales came from my own home country

Tulsa, Rosewood, Natchez, and so many more

The brutality came to light without me being in a classroom

Mass murders and unfettered violence

As the perpetrators were never held to account

Worse yet, encouraged to inflict as much suffering as possible

The so-called third world jumps out of their collective seats

While telling this side of the hemisphere how they can’t talk

Prepare to stare at the kettle

See the planks through the blindfolds

These noses should be lowered

To smell the carnage that was once buried

As the innocents scream from beyond the afterlife