Collective Unrest

 

One’s Stance on Resistance

August 1, 2018

Our rights are never permanent
they sway to whims of economy
When all becomes automated
we may lose all autonomy
Resistance, sorrow, and pain
genetically stripped away

Barbaric cruelty normalized
throughout human history
Savage apes that harnessed
fire, charcoal, language
Spear tips tapping ribs
of those deemed lesser

Those who hold their tongues
bite down hard
Choking in rubiscent pools
segregated by unquestioning
Inquisitors; “Those who question
the now are heretics.” -we say

Codified rights propped upright
by strawman politicians,
Nobody will fight for you
except you
If you never fight then nobody will
accept you

 

James White is an American poet based in New Orleans and Baton Rouge. He is the author of “We Sleep On Oyster Beds” and currently works as an on the spot poet on Frenchmen Street in New Orleans.

Please follow and like us:
Newer Post

The Human Experience

To Chris Abani You promised a poem and you came Just as I was tucking the kids in bed. You show me a few words: Fear, loneliness, passion, heartache Of a man my age, same status From their side of…
Read
Older Post

rihanna

standing in line for the movies IamLegend of all things my college boyfriend david captain punched me in the gut, knocked the wind right out of me i know these are clichés, colloquialisms, taboos for a poet but that’s exactly…
Read
Random Post

Tiger Says Meow

I walked into that small classroom, stopping at the door to glance around. There were 10 children and their aides in there. The school day had already started. The district had called me last minute when the aide assigned to…
Read
Random Post

Melting Wax

When I gaze at my reflection all hips and thighs bulge around my middle perfect pink pussy grabbable and ready scars and bruises across skin I am a clay doll molded by fingers of men. I do not see what…
Read
Random Post

through the night (oh say can you see)

Independence Day. Celebrate. Do we know why we're proud to be American any more? My brother and sisters tears can be found in the burroughs next to your hills. In chalk outlines. In oil hikes. My brothers and sisters tears…
Read
Random Post

The Ocean Listens

Geneva peace talks on a subject of the lives not living in the crematorium heat of a Damascus prison only break bread between those not given a holy perspective on the horrors they’ve driven. Flour, water and time - a…
Read