Tag Archive for 'mike brown'

black august haikus: week 2

Black folks raise pit bulls
Swan dive, two step on cruise ships
Pray swathed in cotton

We place seed in dirt
Stand in lines for lesser harm
Write English poems

Turn insult to song
Gather currency not us
Bow down to white god

We carry the scars
Transform the horror to life
This is survival

– in response to the proximity of slavery, noticing what we’ve already begun to reclaim (while listening to Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad) #blackaugust575 #blackaugust

we magic makers
casting spells from dragon’s breath
blessing insurgents

fighting all our days
laughter in a moment’s pause
we give our whole selves

and the children ask
what are you doing? why? where?
we gather freedom

we magic makers
we endure our own brilliance
we break our own chains

– #blackaugust575 #blackaugust between GOT and nibblings

lightning brights up sky
the child quivers beside me
i promise safety

it’s the outside world
where I make no promises
where I can’t protect

sky does not hate you
thunder doesn’t feed on fear
that’s the worst of us

you are vast as sky
laying here or in the street
sacred black boy child

– #blackaugust575 #blackaugust
on the anniversary of Mike Brown’s death

I do my life’s work
I dream out loud in the dark
and then I thank God

– #blackaugust575 #blackaugust

I write these letters
knowing that we are strangers
and yet I owe you

deepest gratitude
the miracle of your life
spent inside cages

we don’t forget you
we love you across space, time,
know your sacrifice

we honor your years
your wisdom, dedication
I honor your lives

– #blackaugust575 #blackaugust

I’ve written 11 letters now, and am starting to include these haikus. keep thinking of Charlene Carruthers saying she was struck speechless visiting Mumia, and how I feel that each time I bring my pen to the page. so much to say, so impossible to say it. ?

don’t lie on your heart
you are broken and it hurts
it has always hurt

we can’t live in hate
we don’t live without delight
anger leaves hunger

beat the softest thing
scream at the walls, the ceilings
release – you will heal

– somatics working. #blackaugust575 #blackaugust

when hate fills your heart
everything is a weapon
every day a war

my heart is my own
I fill my life with fierce love
rooted in justice

I feel no regret
I offer up my whole life
in the long battle

I never forget
you hold torches for whiteness
but I love the dark

– #blackaugust575 #blackaugust
honoring sacrifice and freedom fighting in Charlottesville

under the influence of lightning

laying here in the heart of a storm. thunder is rolling overhead and when lightning strikes it’s as bright as day in the whole sky. midwestern storms are extravagant.

today is the anniversary of Mike Brown’s murder, a day that holds its own distinct horror and grief, a day that changed many of our lives, grew us up in ways we never wished for. i pray in my way for his family and his community today.

i spent the day mostly offline, playing with my nibblings, noticing the ways in which they listen to authority and the ways they don’t. i have respect for the latter and try to only demand the former when their safety is concerned. today one nibbling said i was the bestest auntie, except…’you do get mad sometimes.’ i told them to notice why i get mad, and if it’s ever not about their safety, they should tell me and I’ll let it go. i don’t want to participate in getting them to listen to me ‘just because’. doesn’t work anyway. and what do i know, really?

i can’t remember if i should start counting when the lightning strikes or when i hear thunder, to measure the miles between the storm and my body. i like the idea that this is a crucial survival skill. and like most crucial survival skills, i only kind of know it.

i’m learning to trust myself under pressure, learning that i string together my random bits of survival knowledge when i need it, apologize and adapt when i fuck up. and anyway, perhaps the best contribution i can make is staying calm under pressure, which i inherited from the women in both sides of my family. calm allows me to discern who to trust when no one is quite right.

the biggest dangers my people face right now come from our government, and we don’t yet know how to survive it, not en masse. but we’re learning. as quickly as we can, messes and humanity in our wake.

it’s eight miles away now, the storm, counting from lightning to thunder.

watching the kids learn the subtle survival skills of being 4, and 7, and three days til 9, i see how we learn on yes. in somatics we know that, the body learns on yes. but we live in a punitive authoritative society. we conform in response to no, we try to control the base urges and wild instincts that make us unsociable as we are told to stop, quiet, take it elsewhere. but when we are invited into the world as whole complex creative beings, invited to contribute our truths and ideas, held through our disappointment and confusion – i am amazed at how kind the children can be, and prolific, and fun.

that’s true of every child i meet. i’m learning to hold this possibly for every adult, too.

the lightning is right out the window now, two miles away. but also maybe it’s just everywhere these days. it’s terrifying to be alive these days. it’s also beautiful.

a season of love (for all those killed with impunity)

it is our duty to fight for our freedom
it is our duty to win
we must love each other and protect each other
we have nothing to lose but our chains

– assata shakur

first, we must love ourselves enough to believe in the fundamental rights we have to breath, to be children, to grow up, to love and protect, to walk and play and disobey, to live until we die, not because our skin scares someone empowered by the state to kill us, but because our bodies are appropriately tired from all the living and loving we did.

we must love ourselves like spring, bursting through any containers that cannot grow with us.

i freed a thousand slaves
i could have freed a thousand more if only they knew
they were slaves

– harriet tubman

second, we must love everyone who shares this lineage of being on the dark side of white supremacy. to ferociously, obstinately, loudly and unapologetically love the majority of the planet. to be unafraid to see every black and brown person as a potential comrade. because as patrisse, opal and alicia teach us, black lives matter.

we must love like summer, storming, burning off the surface, sun and rain in the same moment, double rainbow style inspirations, wildfire alchemists.

if you come here to help me
you are wasting your time
but if you come because your liberation is bound up with mine
then let us work together

– aboriginal activists group, queensland, 1970s

third, we must love those who open themselves up against the trajectory of their lineages, who learn, who teach themselves to love us when they have been socialized not to. this means loving those who benefit from a system that doesn’t love us, but work against it in their hearts, beliefs, families, jobs, and actions.

here we must love like fall, stripped down to the spare truth with each other. let the assumptions and projections that keep us from each other be bright enough in their dying to make us gasp, and then fall away – they are illusions. the construct of race is deadly, but it is still a construct. let history give us rich soil to hibernate in – each other. we need each other. we need everyone to stand up for their own humanity in this moment, advancing the work of black lives mattering on all of our divergent front lines.

love has within it a redemptive power…there’s something about love that builds up and is creative. there is something about hate that tears down and is destructive…love your enemies.
– martin luther king, jr

and finally, especially in these moments, we must work to love those who place themselves against us as our enemies, our oppressors. this doesn’t mean forgiving without due process, or allowing to move forward without accountability and critique. in fact it is the opposite, it is loving in the highest sense – compassion.

we must learn to see that the violence they walk with is, all the time, inside of them, make them so so sick. we cannot let them slip by, killing us quietly. we must put the light on them – those images of modern day lynchings, the memories of that violence that brings us to tears, to raging in the streets…that death energy is a toxic poison of guilt festering inside of those who fear and kill us, and they in turn rot our communities, our societies.

racism is a sickness, viral in our species. and it is tricky, reducing the mind that carries it to the least viable, least sophisticated of world views. if we cannot be compassionate for violently racist people, recognizing this behavior as a sickness, we are at risk of confusing their violence and control with the power we seek to gain and share.

to be the worst of humanity is not a power, it is a trauma.
to need lies and corruption to protect your power shrinks the soul.
to be the most inhumane and racist among us and be unable to receive the balm of justice, the release of a genuine apology, the embrace of other people who feel safe in your presence – it must be unbearable. i would not wish that on any human being.

for these people, mostly white men, who are pulling these triggers…for their humanity, and for our species to move beyond this fatal sickness, i want them to feel the righteous hand of justice that comes with real love. i want them to feel the kind of justice i watch the best parents in my life offer the children i live for…’because i love you, i must stop everything right now and give you my attention, to correct you, i cannot let you behave this way, hurt yourself and me and others this way. you must apologize…do you understand what you did and why?’

this kind of love stops everything, so that the violence, the misbehavior, cannot be normalized.

this kind of love yields transformative justice, it reaches all the way down to the root, the part of the wound that is tender and swollen and full of pus and smells like the end of everything. this kind of love is not saintly, it is pragmatic. it is the nurse, midwife, doula, doctor, healer, shaman, witch, magician, neighbor, sister, friend willing to touch, clean, soothe, amputate, say spells, exorcise, journey, listen and find the possibility for healing.

and in this season, this last love feels like winter. when a loved one has to turn away from the violence and leave the violator to contemplate himself, or reach like an icy wind under the collar and through the ribs, or to shut down all the systems that allow the violator to normalize his behavior, it is a cold time.

we must freeze racism and white supremacy – armed and unarmed – out of our system, give it no place to grow. the love we offer here cannot be meted out in half measures. everywhere, winter.

we are the anomaly. our actions must be as unyielding and show stopping as that wall of snow in buffalo.

and of course we know, in the cyclical intelligence of our cells, that winter is a season of abundant nourishing for the land, water piled on top of water just waiting to be swallowed. love made visible.

when you see our rage piling up, snowballing, know that it IS our love.

we have been learning to practice love in actions of collective rage, collective redistribution of resources, and collective healing. our actions stop traffic, stop business as usual, close the schools, interrupt the speeches and the holidays – we love in ways that localize our brilliance.

we divest from the system that refuses to provide justice. we love each other by investing in each other.

join the efforts in any way you can – let’s each be clear about the things we are best at, the things which give us the particular joy that comes from being in our purpose – don’t worry, it can be multiple things. do these things as part of the larger effort for black lives.

if you are a creator, create in ways that ‘wage love’, as charity hicks taught us, that challenge small thinking and uplift black lives.

if you are an organizer or an activist, fill yourself up with righteous vision, take leadership from those most directly effected, stay hydrated, and disrupt the system at every turn. ‘turn your rage into love’, as keith cylar taught us.

if you are a parent, model and speak the message ‘black lives matter’ to your children all day, and make sure to be a presence for black lives mattering in their schools, day care, everywhere.

if you are a healer, donate a day of your work’s earnings to the efforts in ferguson (december 18 is a first day that healers will be doing this, sparked by leah lakshmi piepzna-samarasinha), or answer adaku utah’s call to offer healing to those putting their bodies on the front lines.

invest your time, money and energy into black organizing, black wholeness, black arts, black lives. this battle requires every kind of action.

and yes, some of the most direct actions may seem violent, disrupting business as usual, destroying property. think of it as survival. when someone is choking, drowning, dying, the body becomes very intelligent and willing to do anything to continue. individually and collectively, we are trying everything, and we are being brilliant, so that we, and our children, survive.

because our root cause, our root purpose, is love.

this is not the beginning, this is not the end. but this moment is ours, to ‘bend the arc towards justice’. this battle is a devastating and crucial place to be intentional about how we are showing up, what we are embodying. the superpower we need to be cultivating now is love. radical, unapologetic love.

hands up, pull it down.

#nojusticenochristmas #cancelchristmas #buyblack #blacklivesmatter #blacklove