come, there is no more peace here . . .

Painting Wallpaper
Art by Steve Johnson via Unsplash

come, there is no more peace here . . .
not even if you hold your breath
and cling to the idea
that one day soon or in the
distant future, it will reappear.

it has taken leave, hoisted up its
confidence on its shoulders and
walked away with the tears of
every praying Black mother,
every aching heart of Black fathers,
and with the lips of every
Black partner.

no justice. no peace. no justice. no peace.
no peace. no peace. no peace.

if you dream it, it will be . . .
those dreams aren’t for
Black people, we can shout something
into the great beyond and as sure
as the ground is hard, every
verdict will remain one
we fight ourselves about
with the waking breaths of an

angry God who has decided He’s done
picking up the pieces and
can only watch as his children
brutally murder their brothers and sisters

what a sight that has to be for
omnisciently sore eyes.

On: The Lives of African-Americans & People of Color

Photo by Ezekixl Akinnewu via Pexels

You don’t understand the anger b/c you are not the target. Your life isn’t on the line every time you come in contact with those purposed to “protect” & “serve”. Don’t question our anger. It’s warranted & has been bottled up for eons. An explosion of epic proportions is brewing.

Stand with us or sit down.

Missed America: A Haiku in ten parts

135th Street YMCA Mural by Aaron Douglas — 1934

Missed America

A Haiku in ten parts


A torturous thing —
Living in one’s skin waiting
For the next bullet

A deep “virtual
Insanity” has gotten
The best of freedom

America, “land
Of the free, home of the brave,”
We backstab with love

This, a country that
Hails its flag as kings and queens
Over its people

They say they want us —
But spend their time keeping us
Buried above ground

Stifling, isn’t it?
How UnAmerican most
Americans are

We’re disposable —
That’s how it feels when folks drag
You out with the trash

Too many speakers —
Not enough listeners, so
Nothing’s getting done

Devastation hits —
strips away homes and loved ones,
His words are, “Good Luck!”

Priorities shift —
Other things take precedence
Over human lives


This poem is a part of “Equal People,” Our Human Family’s anthology of international poetry on equality and inclusivity.