Police Brutality

I am a poor Black American Woman
Living in the so call land of the free but
Where i am from that’s not the case i wake up wondering will this be my last day on earth am i going be another victim
You see when was a little i was taught that. An officer of the law was to protect and serve .
Not knowing for people of color like myself
It was all a damn lie .
You see this is the new order of racism
to wipe as many of our beautiful brother and sister’s as they can the system has failed us to many of us have lost our familes behind violence.
We are living in the future wild wild west
All the marching protesting for what its not helping more of us our dying for nothing and its not rights i feel like a slave just waiting to slip and make the wrong move before hearing the sounds of pop pop gunshots .
I pray everyday for myself my children grandkids and all whom had died by the hand of Police Brutality.

Interpretation Of Raphael’s Room, Vatican City

I sit at the edge of this empty room just my thoughts, the beauty, and I. I understand every picture, moment, and feeling around me. Everday I awake to the pleasures of this room; at 8:00 is when they come people of all shapes and sizes. They stand in front of me and I can’t explain the feeling but if I had to choose one word it would be delight. I have sat here for 512 years and only have the distinct memories of my creation and that of those around me. I remember a man sitting on a pull rope painting away. His smell was almost like lavender and I can feel his creativity all around the room. I could taste the bright and dark colors he painted me with, they tasted like joy and happiness. The smell around me was that of incense and salty water that seemed to soothe through me. My first visitor was an old man dressed in red and white he had a tiny little hat covering his head as he walked closer to me I could feel his anguish and desire more and more; he spoke so firm and low but it was as if he were screaming in my ear. He seemed ill and alone even though he was surrounded I wanted to help but I couldn’t. He spent a lot of time in the room sleeping and working. One day he slept and didn’t wake up but I could still smell and feel his anguish around me.

After his passing I spent a lot of time alone only getting the occasional visit but one day a lot more people came to visit me this time it was everyday hundreds of people flooded into the room and were amazed at the sight of me. They would call me astonishing and one of the best works of artistry in all of Roma. I didn’t understand but in a way I did I had seen over 500 years of history pass by, I had felt the growth of humanity, I had smelt over 500 years of sadness and happiness, and I had tasted the same salty smell every day since my creation by the man on a pull rope with brushes and colors galore. I still sit here every day feeling, tasting, seeing, and smelling every happy and sad moment that passes by and as I sit here I hope to continue feeling everything around for I am a painting not to signify my artistry but signify my viewer and their perspective.

I Don’t Mind

DON’T MIND: I think of all of you as a people. I think of all of you as a human. I don’t judge based on color, religion, or race. I don’t mind if you’re Asian. If you speak Arabic. If your ancestors were French. I don’t mind if you’re originally from Spain. Or that your best friend is German. What I mind is that you show me respect. There’s no problem if you’re Muslim. We all have our own options. Don’t confuse me because I dress one way. My culture and beliefs make me seem distinct. But they don’t make me less than you. I think of all of you as a people. I think of all of you as a human. I don’t care where you are from. I don’t care who you believe in. Christian, Judaism, Islam, or Buddhism. All of us have dissimilar points of view. We must learn to get along and show each other gratitude.

THE IRONY THAT IS IDEAL TO THE WAY OF COMMONERS IN GOVERNANCE

I am areigned in the court of law.Ipray to be allowed to plead mitigation.Are my actions illicit ? They call me an ectoclast senselesly.They vicely consider ways of other people to determine their prospects.How cheap is it to idly seat down and say he did this, she did it that way as away to detter the crime.Fallaciously the stay back fails the strive for containment of the horrow that has weighed down prudence of law enforcers.Great is wonder pertaining come about of their misrepresantation,fraud,duress,malicious falsehood and misconception all standing in the corridors of freedom

THE IRONY IN THE WAY OF COMMONERS II

Earnestly, I apologise to my audience. East, West, North to South.I understand how much you await findings of an errand mission. The society is real sick from the plight of incompetence.vanity is the song that carries aday.The plight is real.The horror of the monster is roaming to the oppression of the poor, weak, aged ,widows, unemployed,homeless and all that are left out to mention.How wreckless ? Look at our systems of governance the inferior leaders using top most leadership as their scapegoats for their own incompetence and in so doing they bring down arms of governance.so is political leadership and likely organs of adminstration and management. Where is our pride ? Corruption, Tribal lines, nepotism, racism in along list of other vices.it is anecessity and all alike should stay put on caution and vigilance to source liberation.

IRONY IN THE WAY OF COMMONERS III

Unbelievably, it is regretable that as stands one may be charged for no offence.it has come to realisation that the law seek relative justice.. Have you ever thaught of it ? it is never perfect.the accussed though caught with exhibits are allowed to plead defence for mitigation in line with their crime..others go extend to corrupt the whole systems in place. It is adesbelief factor but that is right with the way of commoners.The choruses of my lord and himself sitting respectedly in the company of Jury’s Woh ! adays hustle revolves around misplace of extracts of exhibits relevant to matters of court proceedings. What amislead by necessity to seek help by your ruling. So you also just like them ! acommoner by bribery. Inever thaught it is this serious. The Law is bended. What apromissory estoppel for them that come running to seek justice ! We all stand firm to condemn this ill prospecting for aliberated future. Our enemy is the irony standing in the corridors of Justice.

IDENTITY FACTOR

Mummy ! Daddy ! where are you in this wide wide world ? In the wildernes icry empty and lonely. Come come and hug me my dear. Ilove you, love me too sweetheart.You are me and am you my love. Ihave loved you without changing. What else can i say darling ? No matter what happened in the beginning we are one in flesh and blood. In life, in death forever we shall be. You in me and i in you so be it. Mum you are my strength and hope.Come come to me blood of my blood. My rejuvination you are. Yes you are. In my bossom find rest and comfort. In your bossom darling am reborn. Iwas dead but now am alive again. Never shall i be the same again. In you ihave undergone atransformation.

My wrapper

Through my wrapper you shall see
All the parts that make up me.
All my hopes and all my fears
All my sadness throughout the years.
All my dreams that didn’t come true
All the things I thought I knew.
Sometimes deceived and sometimes obsessed
More than often I am depressed
All my worries and all my cares
All my the times my life was not fair
All my anger and all my pain
You would see just why it is Im insane.
All the darkness in my head
Just how many times I wished I were dead
All the secrets that make up me
Would you still love me if you could see?

My scar

Not alive
Just not quite dead
Not insane
Just out of my head
Not suicidal
Just need the pain
Not lost
Just love the rain
Not an alcoholic
Just love the taste
Not depressed
Life’s just a waste
Not violent
Just love to fight
Not morbid
Iust love the night
Not bored
Just love to write
Not rebellious
Just argue to spite
Not leaving
Just going away
Not revengeful
You just got to pay
Not tired
Just need the sleep
Not crying
The tears just seep
Not a lot of things
But ironically are
All of these things that
Create my scar.