poetry -
the most beautiful form of anger;
rage condensed, congealed, into consonants;
hate melted down into liquid vowels;
every injustice recorded,
every injury dutifully noted,
every insult - ingested and spit. back. out.
spit in my face.
I came here to support
you
I came here to try to understand
this rage, your anger
my hate?
you say "my people" and speak of pain
you say "they" and describe them the same way
I describe myself
my people.
your anger is focused, directed, aimed for the target
that you've painted on my forehead
since my white skin
gives you a perfect. blank. slate.
I envy you your pride.
I envy your ability to take your history
stand up for your people.
look back on the past without shame
can you?
can any of us say we are without guilt?
you can look me in my blue eyes
and call me a racist elitist, a selfish American
and I will even believe you,
but what do you gain for your people
by making me share your hate for mine?
punish me with your piercing pride your
pitiful eyes that
you say I say look different, that
I say look beautiful
yes, there is hate in this world
people killing people like those people aren't people
because those people aren't these people
aren't my people
but people
how is this hate helping?
you're preaching to the choir
but then
why make them atone for the sins of the congregation?
tell me your story
pour out your anger in poetry
let me, for a moment, feel your history
but do not tell me
I stared in the blockbuster film
they made of your life
as the antagonist.
Adding your comment:
