Posts Tagged ‘protest’

night-in-america

Night has plunged
my sky so terrifying,
fractured into infernos
of fear, dread so deep
my freedom shivers,
it waits for the chains,
again,
to scrape and bleed
my wrists raw,
my voice screams
even as white-hot
bullets tear through
vocal cords, to force
my silence, my compliance,

I will not.
I WILL NOT!

Silence was enforced
as manifest destiny
as Native People died
for gold, land, conquest.

Minds were colonized
as White-Man’s-Burden
to ensure the status quo
at the cost of culture,
of language.

Lives were lost
in Selma
by southern white devils
demanding racist-policies,
revenge against a King,
an X, a Chavez.

Night has plunged
my earth into sorrow
so full, the oceans
turn emerald, jade, olive,
in sweet aspiration,
we drown,
gasp for the reasons
this horrid jester
rapes us, kills us,
laughs at our folly.

We MUST light
this night,
dispel its death
upon the sky, the ground,
the air we all breathe.

Embrace dissent,
fracture the jester’s
smile, pour
the soul of justice
down its throat!

…fight.
…Fight!
FIGHT!

We will not be
silenced!

ever. again.

by
Rod Carlos Rodriguez

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American Flag
A long maze
begins after stepping
off the plane.
Directed down this hallway
and that corridor,
behind first one
line, then another.
Misdirection is king,
even as tempers flare,
the lines keep moving.

“Are you the one we’re looking for?”

A home since my birth,
America questions my right
to step once again on her shores,
embrace her promises
of freedom and liberty,
inhale her spirit of unity,
savor her cuisine of grace.

“Are you the one we’re looking for?”

Pulled aside, questioned, belittled
with ignorance and politics-du-jour,
forced to swallow my second-class
status based on
the hue of skin,
a random cast of countenance.

“Could you be the criminal we’re looking for?”

For no other reason than a common
name, a darker beard,
a lesser human, being
taught over and again,
America isn’t free,
united, doesn’t
brim with grace.

NO! I’m not the one you’re looking for!

But keep it up,
that tipping point
is coming.
That straw will
break a thousand
backs!

Your America, that
white privileged whore,
has betrayed
me for the last time!

I want a new girl,
one who truly
loves me as a native son,
and will always,
never ask again:

“are you the one we’re looking

for?”

Oh say, can you see…

by
Rod C. Stryker