Broken Brown: America who’s to blame?

©2014 Manumax
©2014 Manumax

Sometimes a few words, meaningless in and of themselves, and loosely scattered can say much more about a thing than all the monographs and manuscripts in the world. Racism in America is like a bunch of mirrors pointing at each other.  The more you try to see yourself, the more you see a million other selves. Your race, your bank account, your God, where you’re from, your parents, your values, your clothes, your accent, your role models all caught up in an infinite visual prism glistening on network TV. You lean to the left, and they all lean with you. You look away and who knows who looks back.

Broken Brown
Lying down
Joins his people
In the ground
Shoulders touching
Sirens sound
Marching onward
For his town!
Mothers worry
Sisters cry
Fathers suffer
Brothers die
Nations color
Outside the line
Children colored
With shades of crime
Crayons never
Tell a lie
Guilty people
Seldom cry
Drawing pictures
In their heads
Who’s to blame
You or I?
Who’s to blame,
Broken Brown.

Join the conversation

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bohemiaspeaks.com

Let There be Winter in the Land of Apartheid

Let the Winter Come poem

Let the winter come
Let the storms hit bay
Let there be no innocence
In the month of may
Let the bleeding cry
And the darkness reign
Let the cold take every heart
A thousand years of pain
Let the fields go bare
Let the hungry die
Let there be no stars above
To guide a moonless sky
Let the music play
And the artists paint
Let there be a time for us
To cherish every saint
Let the singers sing
And the writers write
Let them make a meaning of
These tragedies in sight
And why were those words ever said
Let there be a light
What good has light brought to this world
When all we’ve done is fight

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bohemiaspeaks.com/about

in memory of Nelson Mandela