Monday, August 30, 2010

To be or not To be... Free

I want to say something to ease the tension of this poem, but really I'm not apologetic that I wrote it or that I'm sharing it, if you have a problem with it, you are probably either sheltered or a very good pretender that things like this doesn't happen. Either way, enjoy...

It was late, I was coming from a vigil for two slain officers

Depleted of energy, I was feeling sleepy, when sirens and blue lights awaken me

I pull over, so does he.

6'3 220 lbs former marine killing machine steps from State Trooper unmarked car

I swallow, take a deep breath, I've been in this situation before

"License and registration nigger" I look, swallow my pride take a deep breath.

He demands again, this time hand on holster
"license and registration nigger" draws his gun, points it at my head,

"Get the FUCK out of the car" heart racing, too much pride to be denied my human rights but too many stories of brothers and sisters murdered.

So reluctantly, I put my hands up, out the window, not moving fast enough so face meet steel then pavement.

This was way too familiar to be a case of mistaken identity.

APB says "black man between ages of 18-36 , 5'6 to 6'5, light to medium dark complexion, driving car commits crime." I fit the description too well mouth bleeding, being beat into submission, all I kept hearing was "stop resisting" not noticing second unmarked car pull up and pick up where first officer left off.

"Your black ass ain't making it home tonight" sounding just like this isn't the first time they've done this. Face numbing, can't figure out what I did to deserve this lesson in social status. No help in sight I'm fighting to hang on to life. I want to see my son again. I want to tell my family that I love them.

See I was charged with a DWB (driving while black) and no drugs on me to warrant a conviction. See racism hasn't been reprimanded in our society, it continues to run rampid like AIDS in Africa uncontained and slowly killing people who look like me.

Three months of recovery, two broken ribs, a fractured wrist, a fucked up hip and multiple contusions is what they left me to remember them by, along with a lifetime supply of day and nightmares anytime I see the boys in blue or state troops.

Don't think this can't happen to you, ask Rutger's women's basketball team, ask Oprah, ask your parents.

This is not a disease, its an epidemic and its only a matter of time before it happens to you or someone you love. Every scene isn't as graphic as the one described above they are just as degrading and humiliating from the boardroom to the courtroom, you're just a nigger to them too.

Ask the judge, ask your lawyer, ask your boss' boss

Don't be confused when they tell you Imus' views came from our culture, how many rap albums do you think he has?

Imus was a sexist, racist biggot way before Kool Herc plugged his turntables into a lamppost.

I realize a lot of the music is reinforcing stereotypes and degrading women but rap isn't the whole hip hop culture, its just a scapegoat to make you second guess yourself when your boss' comments turn into a slap on the butt or the guy from Enterprise is bullshitting you about renting a car and deep down you know its because of your race but you don't want to catch a case. That's just the things put into your head to make you think racism is dead but it ain't, ask the residents of Johnston Mills, ask Katrina victims, ask your secretary of State, shit ask your VP he's a bigger crook than I'll ever be and he's still your VP. Ask your president resident advisor of those advisors who advise us that we're not that important

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