#NottheWhiteColor

It’s all about you, you’re
the guy who found religion
the one who tells everyone what they
should think but screams victim
when challenged.

You raped a woman behind
a bar and get more sympathy
than the woman you violated.
Judges will protect you, give
you a lighter sentence for
your “5 minutes of action.”

You drive drunk killing four
people but you serve no
time because of who your
daddy is. You get a suspended
sentence.

You shot a black man for
Knocking on your door. You
Shot Colton and raped Tina
but it’s okay, they weren’t
The white color anyway.

You drive a van into a crowd
because a woman won’t sleep
with you. They won’t call you terrorist
because that term is only for
those who are brown.

You shoot a man sitting in his backyard
22 times for holding a cell phone
and then take a mass shooter to
burger king before taking him to jail.

You walk around with tiki
torches, dressed as prep school
boys armed to the teeth. You drive
a car into a crowd killing a woman
but there are “good people on both
sides”

Taking responsibility has been replaced
by hypocrisy, understanding by ignorance,
the right thing by the right wing
But none of that matters when you’re
Not the White Color

The souls of Thunder bay

The Great Spirit sits watching…..
Her tears flow…like the Red River
swallowing another victim. Another
one of her people taken too soon.

She looks down at the city, poison
running through her veins, hatred
prowling her streets. She sees the apathy,
the racism coming from those who are
meant to protect.

Streets and alleys filled with the souls
of her people, people let down by a system
designed to keep them in their place. She
reaches down and takes them into her bosom, she
sings them a song to calm their restless hearts.

Her song lights the path, a path that she has
walked too many times. She guides the way for
her people, into the spirit world her people walk,
leaving a world that has no justice…no peace.

The Great Spirit looks down at the city, at the world
she created, her tears continue to flow. “When will
there be a place for us?” She asks herself.
“When will we have justice, when will we have peace?”

Journey’s End

I sit there watching, 
as the last minutes
of your life reveal to me
the path you have taken.

I hear your cries as you
wake in an abandoned
world….alone. Taking
your first steps with the
help of no one.

You’re left with those
nobody wants and yet you
find your voice, you find
your soul, you find your strength.

I watch as you grow into yourself,
into your person. I watch as the world
takes advantage of you in
unspeakable ways but never
breaks you.

I watch you carry your first child
and then your second. You teach
us to live, to love who we become.
Your touch creates beauty everywhere
you go.

Your spirit is strong even though
your body is not. I watch you struggle,
unable to help but you tell me not
to worry.

I watch you fall, trapped between this
world and the next I am reminded that
all paths must end. As you expel your
last breath I see your spirit escape to
freedom.

I smile as the tears roll down my face
for I now know that your path has not
ended but continues…..in the hearts of
those your beauty touched and the
lives you changed.

Faded Memories

I dreamt about you last night
first time in 6 years but it felt like yesterday
A spring afternoon with the sun on our faces
the first time I said I love you

You pulled me up from the depths of hell
and locked up all the demons
You made the bad dreams go away and
for the first time taught me to live

You had my heart the first time I saw you
you sauntered in and made yourself at home
you put a smile on my face
whenever you walked into a room

Your smile burned so bright, it was enough
to make me weak in the knees
Your love was even stronger but
it was your humanity that made you perfect

I dreamt about you last night
first time in 6 years but it felt like yesterday
You’re gone now but that’s okay for
the lessons you taught me are still here
and because of that I still love me

A million faces

You’re the face of the angry parent, cutting me down with your words. 
The face of the bullies waiting in the school yard to share their insecurities with me.

You’re the face of the neighbor, the best friend, the preacher, the teacher, the face of the men who raped me.

You’re the face of the police officer, the judge, the politician. Those who would rather blame the victim than deal with violence so many of us face on a daily basis.

You’re the face of the vanishing lover and the absentee father, your the face in the bathroom mirror that I can’t wipe away.

You’re the faces that I carry with me everyday. You remind me that I’m still here, that you did not break me. The face that I wear may be cracked and worn but it is one of dignity, strength and defiance.

The face is me