blood in the sea
blood on the leaves
blood in the soil
blood in streets.
another dark figure
yellow traffic paint
we are not niggers.
our blood stains the white man’s uniform
denying us the right to breathe
the right to be free.
teaching us to pray to a White God,
for a White Christmas,
a big house with white picket fences.
white-washing our existence.
it is not okay for you to cross here.
candles and stuffed bears surrounding crosses,
balloons, cards made from school children for
desolate moms with hurt wombs
left sorting through the pieces,
exposing the Black skeletons
in Amerika’s closet.
condescendingly mourning our loses by
insisting on non-violent marches.
hands up don’t shoot.
and every time they do
roses line the street
to conceal the blood stained concrete
we been thinking maybe that they grew there
that the blood
somehow planted seeds to uproot
springing forth the revolution, once again.
you will see us!
the evolution of the black man.
these black boys’ been Jesus.
is the resurrection.