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Jay M.

We, As Black People: an elegy

We, As Black People: an elegy 

We, as Black People have lost

Lost the war against them

Lost the war against ourselves 

Lost the ability to sleep peacefully 

Lost the ability to go to Church


We, as Black People have lost

We’re cashed into their ATMS

Reminders on their shelves 

Warning us so easily 

It could get worse 

It keeps getting worse 

We, as Black People have lost

thousands of our own 

and everyday that number rises 

But like Maya, so will I 


In memory of the lost, so will I 


We talk as if it was like an old fad 

like it isn’t seen as “cool” anymore

for them to gather around and watch

that Strange Fruit be plucked 

bodies bare to share a warning 

that clearly states, 


“You’re Not Welcomed Here.” 


We talk as if they were just caught 

like they were caught at the wrong place 

for them to be in the wrong times

that we’re lucky to not be in a time where

bodies were bare to share a warning 

that clearly stated, 

“You’re Not Welcomed Here.” 


Oklahoma

2018

I could go on, but I’m sure you get it.


faint and unclear

but heard.


The ringing that 

came from the Rockies 

of that state Colorado, 


the ringing that 

rolled across those curvy slopes


of that state California,


 has made its way to Chicago

and slid underneath 

the pavements of the suburbs. 


So, that I may hear

“Ding Dong,”

rocking me to sleep.


I wake to understand 

that it has not gotten louder,

but I still hear it.


Over the years I have gone 

to a school with many 

who look like me


But skin is where we draw the line of similarity.

Then, I turn and talk with a girl who 

doesn’t even share that with me.


And I understand 

that I cannot allow that ring

to grow dimmer

thanks to a man, our ears can hear it at all.



Thousands of men walked and stood

As their way of giving an oath 

Bare heads and those with hoods

Hours came but they were loath


To leave without making the message clear

Not for attention or fame

Show so that they may hear

The truth is not a game

To take responsibility 

To be active 

In their community 

The sea of men was massive 


The president was “busy” that day 

Congress was shut down


They had no reason to keep them at bay

Because they respectfully marched with no frown 


It reached all the boys and girls                             

These ‘savages’ did no harm

They glistened like pearls

And showed their black charm


In the end they repeated a pledge 

Minister Farrakham was the head

That took away the wedge 

and left division dead 

The million men with one message 

They were one



It’s so weird to be apart of something

You can know so little about 

It’s so weird to be apart of something

But wish to get out


Cause sometimes hearing how he couldn’t breathe

Makes my throat swell and close shut

And sometimes my mind wants to do something

But I never know what


I wonder if I could find some way to escape 

If one day I woke up and this big thing disappeared 

If these weights toppled off my shoulders 

Would I become what I had feared? 


If these tears had no place anymore

And my heart could go on my sleeve 

If I could stand with a real smile

Would I want my past to leave? 


Do I want to not have this dose of the pigment melanin 

That says so much about me

This color speaks before I do 

Would I want them to not see?


I couldn’t imagine 

Waking and not being black

I mean I could 


But I’d always want to switch back. 



Written in 2019



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