rACE

I can't wait for the day when racism of today is no longer a writing prompt...or an experience. #sigh

A room of white

Stale

Vertical

And we were the dark mass that entered the room

Horizontal

Without

And thought to be the next vile story on the 9 o’clock news

Looked at and laughed at for not being them

Not being wrapped in dollars or painted

With passed-down family pleasantries

Not having the same sound

The same slim

The same skin

And, Oh, how their green-blue eyes cut & sliced through wiry hair and box cuts

Cut like blade to rope tied to trees that lynched my fathers

hung their brothers, their sons, their wives

Their eyes tell me their stories

Tell me their lessons not learned

Their eyes paint me dirty

As if my color rubs off in showers I’ve refused to take

As if we are God's mistake

Anger races through veins to fingertips that want to gouge out eyes

But love, pumping through veins, reversing to heart throbs,

Forces me to look away

Praying your eyes never tell me your story again

Or never find dark skin to make small in your narrow pupil...

Like then

Like,

Ever

Again

…

I pray your children have brown eyes

Reviews

[Poetry child]

powerfully presented, excellently executed, raw, real, outstanding poetic voice...