ugandabeinsanfrancisco

It is a prayer, May 25 heal, George Floyd you are on my mind, I see you as a martyr, In you a Black collective is at the crossroads, Asia, Europe and Africa meet around you, A revolution rose from your prone body, No more lies about who suffers, Your life clarified the expectation, To which a Black life, Was held by many, Your death gauged our measure of sanctity to life, I cried, I was sorrowful, No more again, Shall we treat, Any human with indignity. May 25 heal all of us, We are equally guilty, But collectively,  We are healers, to each other.

 Dark puffed swirls of clouds, gathered as if to tell, of a glorious future, these are shoots on the lips and tongues, of the cotton plantation slaves, the plantationers, you may think of an engine, and you will be forgiven, for your idea of a motor, I speak of another engine, bent and painstakingly sore, picking and cleaning cotton, you may think of autonomous machines, and you will be forgiven, for your idea of automated robots, I speak of a primo automaton, for the plantations had them first, picking and cleaning cotton, a self-driving and self-repairing engine, a self-guiding beast of burden, lagging heavy cotton-filled baskets, if the pangs of child-birth, sent pin-pricks of painful reminders, this bent expectant mother, most likely nauseated but energetic, with the heartburn searing the chest, waves of Braxton Hicks contractions, a shriek of pain, birth rivulets flow, knees bended and the woman lies prostate, on firm solid terra, this is Mother Nature's Temple, The burning bu...

Daunte Wright, perhaps the previous night, must have written a text message, filled with youthful hope and excitement, of looking forward, to a time when COVID-19 is gone, to a day enjoying a ride, to a future when the DMV will open, In a car whose tags had expired, this fond son met his death, this car at one time, could have been,  a kitchen table pep-talk subject, a mother giving the talk, policing; use of brutal force and race, Kimberley Potter, another mother, a well trained Police officer, could not tell which side, the gun or taser was pouched, nor tell the feel of the gun grip,  police-work due diligence aside, after all this is a Black driver, half the work is done by gunning, then contemplate or ask questions later, and so in that tradition. a 20 year old Black male is gunned down, by a 26 year veteran of the Police, dedicated and loyal to the force, a member of an honor guard, the quintessential law enforcer, 'accidentally discharged a fire-arm,' and Daunte Wright w...

A Slave of Love Love overwhelms, presses you down, first is the sensation,  of a heart sinking then rising up or moving sideways, it is not a material gift, nor inane whispers, that stir the tempests, out of which warmth, escapes to bathe, the body with dizziness, and a cold elixir, to dole out sobriety

  Mandela’s Tie-and-Dye Fabric   ‘Your Worship I hold you in high esteem,’ Mandela addressed the White Court, A stern Drakensberg, Oversees vast vista’d plains, Of shrubs; gorges; rivers; flora and fauna, A beautiful homeland, To the tongue clickers, Gravity defying leapers, Fleet of feeters, Boers and Anglo settlers, All and others, It was such a time, To expose the violence, That apartheid unleashes, To those labelled non-white or Africans, Violence begets violence, A churning Charybdis, Devouring pleas for clemency, Drowning reason and decency, Tentacles of diabolical hubris, Bind both African and White, In a tumbling tackle, Of justice; love; wrath; hate; war; plunder, With no side victorious, Until at Ithaca, All attacking and war-weary sides, With bloodied swords and smoking guns, Which they would have used, To wipe down each other, Letting loose copious blood, Flowing over plains, Forming bloated and grotesque naumachiae Cringing on banks left soggy, With ripped arms an...

  White Court Black Body   The black body is weary and hungry, Not because there is no bread and cake, Not because the easy choice is drug and diet, Not because the dilapidated tenement is also redlined, Not because the need is to change the skin shade, Not because the face is angry and distressed, Not because the belly grumbles, Not because the limbs are chained, Not because the hair is shaggy, Not because the neck is vulnerable Somebody is someone, Someone is a human, The court compiled laws on the book, It is possible to turn despair into abundance, It is possible to turn misery into mercy, It is possible to make choices universally available, It is possible to turn fences into safer spaces, The body is part of a diverse humanity, A truth that is brown, black and white, The court is part of affirmation, Of the common and shared liberties, So that all fully experience life, Revise the legacy that distanced opportunities, Entr...

Blue Uniform Black Skin   The shoulder chip, For visibility of dignity, The belt around the hip, A commitment to serve, The baton and boot, A show of firm, Uncompromising discipline, The complete blue uniform, An aspiration to protect, The black skin, A presence of dignity, The black hands, A commitment to productivity, The black voice and vote, A promise of liberty, The black citizenship, An aspiration to upward mobility, The blue uniform and black skin, Complement each other, For in working together They bring about upliftment.