Tag Archives: poetry

CAN’T BLACK LIVES MATTER TOO???

Tic
Toc
goes the clock
On the mystery
of the history
Of
who am I
And
who are you
And
who are we

Maybe
to better understand me
I should try and understand you
So when I heard of the demise
of the Indian tribes
from the White perspective
was that they had put too much trust
in the treatise they signed

Now you
can better understand
why Sandra Bland
told that policeman
I HAVE RIGHTS!!!
and ended with
losing her life

But that has nothing to do
with the perversion
of the aversion
towards the Chinese
whereupon our first immigration law
was to get rid of them all

or the Japanese version
who will tell you
that internment is a diversion
it was imprisonment

You see history
is His story
but what about
Her story
now that you’ve heard
some of Their story
all we ask
is just a simple task
Can’t Black Lives Matter
Too???

You see no one knows
what the Poles went through
in World War II
where six million died
half of them Jew

or in 1891
the single day
worst
mass lynching
in America
took place
in Louisiana
against the Italians
cause being a Catholic back then
was like being a Muslim today

or that
in 1848 through 1860
in a twelve year span
out here in California
they lynched
163-Mexicans

You see history
is His story
but what about
Her story
now that you’ve heard
some of Their story
all we ask
is just a simple task
Can’t Black Lives Matter
Too???

No one knows what a Black woman goes through
cause it was a Black woman who started
hashtag Me Too

and White privilege
means many different things
to many different body
but to the Black family
it means access to their body

How many times did the slave masters rape Black women
so many times I ain’t got a clue
so you’re not a clown
when you look around
and see a lighter shade of Brown
just ask the African, the Aztecan, and the Mayan
how that happened
These women had no choice!
there was no Twitter to give them voice!

Some say Thomas Jefferson was a great man
but how many times did he have to rape that woman to produce six children
and when we called him father
he denied us
and all of America told us
Yousa lie!
But in 1998 DNA gave us proof
that for over 200-years Black folks had been telling the truth
then I heard somebody scream who did not look like me
HOW COULD THE PERSON WHO WROTE THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE HAVE ENSLAVED HIS OWN CHILDREN!

You see history
is His story
but what about
Her story
now that you’ve heard
some of Their story
all we ask
is just a simple task
Can’t Black Lives Matter
Too???

I want to set the Record Straight!
hashtag Black Lives Matter ain’t got nothing to do with no cops
It got something to do with a civilian
and his name was George Zimmerman
and he shot and killed an unarmed Black teenage boy
by the name of Travon Martin
and there was NO JUSTICE FOR US!
and just like all the other civilians before him
with Dey Lynch Mobs
and Dey Gang Rapes
so much was going on Rosa Parks had to investigate
and this was some twenty years before she refused to go to the back of the bus
80-years removed from slavery so much horrors had been thrusted upon us

In 1944
in Alabama
Recy Taylor
was twenty-four
she was walking home from church
when she was abducted by six Caucasian boys
She said, “Please don’t hurt me, I have to go home to my children.”
Five hours later
Her father found her on the side of the road
beaten and raped
Now I comes from a woman!
We all do
And when I heard this story
I cried
but when I heard her sister tell it
I died inside

Dem boys wasn’t content with just raping my sistah
Dem boys played inside my sistah
My sistah never had any children after that
Dem boys went all up inside my sistah’s body
My sistah never even gotten pregnant after that
Dem boys played inside my sistah’s body!

You see history
is His story
but what about
Her story
now that you’ve heard
Our story
We have a daunting task
Such an overwhelmingly daunting task
For YOU TO ASK
CAN’T BLACK LIVES MATTER
TOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

by Donald “C-Note” Hooker

Here is the audio version:
CAN’T BLACK LIVES MATTER TOO???

Editor’s Note: To For more epic poems by this poet, check out: THE CRIMINALIZATION OF OUR AMERICAN CIVILIZATION (This Is Not A Manifesto)
STRADIVARIVARIUS: Play Her Like
It Must End! (BLACK FEMALE BOYCOTTS AGAINST BLACK MEN IN THE PEN)

Here are audio links:
The Criminalization of our American Civilization (This Is Not A Manifesto)
STRADIVARIVARIUS: Play Her Like
It Must End!: BLACK FEMALE BOYCOTTS AGAINST BLACK MEN IN THE PEN

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White Noise

High ceiling
windowless room
soundless
except the white noise
of bright lighting
humanless
except me
furnitureless
except door’s knob
queasy
of uneasy
a hot mess
but nevertheless
I wait
in this Twilight Zone
of a disaster
seconds
turn into minutes
minutes
turn into hours
still feet
a quickend pace
a slow jog
complexity of thought
rise and fall
like a statistical graph
wondering
searching
Did I see?
Crashing the disturbance
of the undisturbable
Deputy good cop
and officer bad cop
hurled accusations
of machinations
I could not have done
I remained silent
silence brokered for a cigarette
to which I refuse
until
the swiftness
of wiffness
of roasted caffeine
filled the room

by
Donald “C-Note” Hooker

[Editor’s Note]: The Sorcerer’s Brew, was a work created by the artist for the “Everything Coffee,” prisoner art exhibit in New York.

THO HER NAME IS NOT GIBRALTAR, STILL SHE’S CALLED THE “ROCK”

She once belonged to a community that lived high in the California Franciscan sky.
Who was torn apart by war with the Sky.
They fell to Earth, but the Rivers would not let them settle their.
They drove them to the Ocean where they fell to the floor with other displaced people and called their name ALCATRAZ.
Once settled, they could not rest as other displaced people settled on top of them.
And so it goes, four other settlements settled on top until they were 30 miles below.
But a great shift in geological politics were to occur when the Farallon Tectonic Plate people went against the great North American Tectonic Plate people, and upheaved all the settled people.
Now the Alcatraz people lived on top of all the settlements, and the San Bruno Mountain people, the last to settle, now lives where Alcatraz once dwelled.
Having dealt with the pressures of 30 miles at the bottom of the Ocean, she’s now mightier and stronger than before.
Resistant to the wiles of the Sky.
Tho no longer held in her former elevated state, elevated nevertheless into her former regal and majesty.
Tho her name is not Gibraltar, still she’s called “The Rock.”

by C-Note

©2017 Donald”C-Note” Hooker

Tho Her Name Is Not Gibraltar, Still She’s Called “The Rock,” is an allegorical work that gives animation to the inanimate. It is the origins of Alcatraz. Alcatraz began as a mountain; who as the result of the elements, suffered erosion. The erosion was washed into the ocean by the rivers, where it settled to the bottom. More erosion and more and more erosion settled on top of that initial settlement that geologist call Alcatraz. Then two tectonic plates collided and caused the bottom settlement to be the top settlement, and the top to be the bottom. Having been buried 30 miles and under the pressure of the ocean, Alcatraz rocks are wheather proof. Doesn’t she now sit regal and majestic?

[Editor’s Note]: Tho Her Name Is Not Gibraltar, Still She’s Called “The Rock”, is a work that was specifically created for the Art Escape At Alcatraz, prisoner art exhibit on Alcatraz island May-June 2017, curated by Prison Art Touching Hearts.
Help P.A.T.H. in their mission of touching hearts through prison art and give a donation.

NO SOUTHERN SHALL GOVERN THIS ISLE

America’s great war wasn’t the First World War
nor was it the Second
It was civil in nature.
Brother against brother
North against South
In came Colonel Albert Sidney Johnston
to govern the great fort Alcatraz.
Born in Kentucky was he
raised in Texas did he
Roots dug deep in the South
That’s why good ole San Franciscoans had their doubts
That a good ole boy could defend Northern territory
When Confederate President Jefferson Davis was a friend
goes the story
It lead to his removal from this great isle
As rumors of Southern sympathies did they beguile
For the good citizens of the Bay could never reconciliate
That a gentleman of the South could expatriate
So rejected by his Northern brethren he retired to the South
But picked up a Confederate command and died valiantly at the battle of Shiloh
A hundred and fifty years later
I don’t salute you as a foe
because shame on us
for mistrust
of our brethren
must be told.

by C-Note

©2017 Donald”C-Note” Hooker

[Editor’s Note]: No Southern Shall Govern This Isle, is a work that was specifically created for the Art Escape At Alcatraz, prisoner art exhibit on Alcatraz island May-June 2017, sponsored by Prison Art Touching Hearts.
Help P.A.T.H. in their mission of touching hearts through prison art and give a donation.

THY HALOED LAND 1ST NATION SPEAKS

Ride out!
on the horse
you rode in on
Two feet
the land
we stand
firm on
Dare not
a thread
you tread
on land
we bury
our dead on.

by C-Note

©2017 Donald “C-Note” Hooker

[Editor’s Note]: Thy Haloed Land 1st Nation Speaks, is a work that was specifically created for the Art Escape At Alcatraz, prisoner art exhibit on Alcatraz island May-June 2017, sponsored by Prison Art Touching Hearts.
Help P.A.T.H. in their mission of touching hearts through prison art and give a donation.

ONE DAY IS NEVER ENOUGH

Bet You Didn’t Think I’d Come So Soon
With A Mother’s Day Card In The Month Of June
When Everybody Knows That Mother’s Day
Was Just Weeks Before In The Month Of May

But For You One Day Just Won’t Suffice
Which Is Why I Decided To Do It Twice
Cause Mama Your Love Is Where It’s At
And You Really Deserve More Days Than That

Now The Cards And Roses Won’t Compensate
For The Love You’ve Shown Your Child Of Late
And Truly All Should Stop And Pause
And Give Their Mother’s A Round Of Applause

Really We Should All Compose A Song
That Would Laud Your Efforts Our Whole Life Long
For In Duty Mothers Have Surpassed The Call
By Sharing The Burdens Of Us All.

by
Eric W. Davis
Aka Sam’i A. Mateen

Out of Time and Out of Words

Winter’s cold
or evening’s night
fireplace warmth
candlelight.
Bear skin rug
the meeting place
out of time
and out of words.

by
Cn