Ferguson, Police Brutality and the Longsuffering of Open Eyes

Long is the suffering of Open eyes,
Ones that see the last flickers of light as another brother dies,
taken from the night like a star in broad day.

We are plucked from obscurity like wild flowers upon open fields,
to be mist not missed when our blood or pollen spilled.

Longsuffering is Aceboon to the Conscious Coon,
up late nights connecting the dots through time,
to realize that we are still but strange fruit on the vine.

Sun-ripened, a delicacy, the consumption of whom comes with paid leave,
witness protection and organs for collection.

Bodies stuffed with papers, our lungs choked with vapors, gun smoke, tear gas, powder charge,
Arteries charred, lips stained with the words: “No,” “Please don’t,” “I’m unarmed,”
Bleeding from the back and head, body gone but spirit spread,
Through us all, emboldening our spirits to face dread.

Now see black stars swirling as binary and tertiary stars forming systems that undulate,
uniting to ancient rhythms.

We all feel it now, it is time to open our eyes, abre los ojos, wake the love inside.

To see through now into the eyes of the past and future,
Into the eyes of those that died, all those mothers and brothers and Sisters that shed tears like
crystal rain, cutting the eyes and constituent veins, into the eyes of longsuffering and all the rest of
the like that grow in fear because I could be next or one of our peers,
Sadly we never take it personal until it could happen to any of us individually,
What happened to WE?

 

CLICK TO READ MORE