I had three other blogs prepared to reopen my website activity. And then t George Floyd was murdered and filmed so we could see his pain, of bystanders yelling for the police to get off of him until he passed out and died. The video was shown again and again of him begging to be allowed to breathe, of him describing his misery of him calling out to his mother like a kind of murder porn. And then the earth buckled and began to shake. So instead I offer a few thoughts, finished and unfinished poems on what another murder by police and another nationwide series of rebellions and protests by thousands of people of diverse races and cultures and ages, some bearing “Black Lives Matter” signs and others with signs showing a complimentary depth of understanding such as “Listen to Black People” and “Silence Means Consent.” Also, at the uprisings were destructive white separatist instigators from various organized groups and some who acted as individuals, all who focused on the destruction of property. Early reports say that these people made up a significant number of those involved in vandalism and setting fires and essentially hijacking the central issues of the uprisings, a deep fury at the ongoing government policies that treat the Black population as disposable commodity whose lives do not have value, distracting from the issues of police brutality, systemic racism, and economic inequality. And it seems there were some ANTIFA members, a loose cohort of individuals and organizations who have various anti-fascist strategies. Some, but not most, of those individuals take these uprisings as opportunities for the damaging, if not total destruction, of businesses that represent capitalism and its values. Yes, there was looting, and it is hard to say how the mix of anger, need, especially in these pandemic times when so many incomes are diminished or non-existent, as well as frustration was a part of the looting. There were also government representatives who tongues roll out flat and dry scolding and sighing but not speaking enough of policy and context. Yet the Black Lives Movement organization has laid out a specific set of goals and strategies. My only hope lies in the fact that unlike fifty years ago the protests include a globe of cultures and ethnicities and a range of ages. Indeed, there have even been supportive demonstrations in various European cities. My hope lies in the fact that although the power structure certainly has the bigger guns, we have more intelligence and more humanity and can create a way to remake this nation, so that it truly serves we the people.
after another police murder
I have been reading poems this morning
glistening poems with fractured greens and radiating yellows
simmering poems with taut blues and slippery silvers
lively poems thick with forest smells of moss and pine needles
flavored with salted winds and wild blackberries
and cushioning carpets of moist brown leaves
those poems have pushed aside for a moment
my own flattened words bitter
and sour with the taste of dry ashes
and the texture of shattered glass
where the only color I find is a molten red
that seeps to the littered pavement before slowly
drying into a hard, piercing black
by devorah major
resisting genocide
everyone is writing poems
about George Taylor or Ahmaud Arbery
Emmit Till or Amado Diallo
Trayvon Martin or Oscar Grant
Ramarley Graham or Michael Brown
or so many others
but i
have been writing poems
about black men murdered
in the endlessly declared and
undeclared wars of our times
dying while loved
dying while alone
dying while afraid
dying while besieged by enemy
dying while besieged by kin
i have been writing poems
about black men dying
for about as long as
i have been writing poems
and as i sit here searching
for the right words to pen
my mouth is slack
tears held back
as the litany of words
i have already scribed
rolls out beneath me
and the only things
that seem to have changed
are that more are dying,
ever younger and more innocent
full of possibilities
that too few seem able to see
and more are killing each other
for reasons even they cannot fully explain
unreasoned rage, confusion,
frustration and desire
but the center
of each of these poems
is the same
the killing of
and death of
black men
i already have stacks of poems
with sharp tipped
blades cutting my heart
black people are killed
without mercy or remorse
without fear of penalty
one black person every
twenty-eight hours
falls from a police officer
security officer, vigilante
while another 8000
die each year
from killing each other
each of these murders
killing our line
ending our future
so i write this poem
for the living
who we need to offer
more than cautionary advice
say, “yes sir” on demand
keep your hands up and open
stay aware and remember
you are a hunted target
always under siege
prejudged as criminal
wrong on account of color
wrong on account of neighborhood
wrong on account of clothes
wrong on account of music
wrong on account of birth
we need to make a way
for all of them
to stride with their smiles
lighting up dark corners
as their neighbors watch out for
the treasure of their inner beauty
and the caprice of their outer style
and the endless potential
of their precious lives
by devorah major
There are many things you can do. Encourage your representatives to support policies that make police responsible and that address systemic racism in a meaningful way. Support the efforts at reparations. Read what Black Lives Matters believes and see if your actions support their ideals. If you support the ideals reflect it in the every day. Thank you to all who helped clean up the streets and thank you most importantly to all who are standing up, speaking up, going out and joining the call- What do we want? “Justice.” When do we want it? “Now.” Any other ideas on what we can and should do please comment.
And it is time to do something different…
Your words tell the story with clarity, pain and truth.
Thanks Pam. We do need to do things differently and to work together.