Collective Unrest

 

Newspaper Clippings

May 22, 2019

I tear news clippings from newspapers

to remember flesh and blood martyrs.

 

Now please understand when I say

that I don’t want to get political,

 

But when my worth is questioned

due to homophobia, I have reason to protest;

 

When I can’t openly walk outside with a partner

without being called slurs and taunted,

 

When my Highways of love are polluted

with bumper stickers saying, “God Hates Fags,”

 

When daffodils of purity are stomped

upon by the faceless shadow of hatred,

I have reason to believe there is a problem.

 

Now I was always taught

to hate the sin, not the sinner;

 

But when a large part of my identity,

no, my very existence,

 

is marked as something worthy of the death penalty,

There is definite reason to pause and worry.

 

When Matthew Shepard was lured, tortured,

and brutally murdered for his sexual orientation.

 

When Mark Carson, holding hands with his partner,

was cornered and taunted, and then stabbed

to death for being himself.

When Ahmed Said and Dwone Anderson-Young

were trailed after leaving a gay bar,

and beaten to death

while trying to reach their vehicle.

 

Now in the beginning I said that I didn’t want

to get political,  but believe me more when

I say that I don’t have that choice.

 

Adam Levon Brown is an internationally published poet and author in 14 countries. He identifies as Neurodivergent and Queer. He has had his work translated in Spanish, Albanian, Arabic, and Afrikaans. Boasting over 300 published pieces, you can find his writing at such publications as Burningword Literary Journal, Firefly Magazine, Zany Zygote Review, Epigraph, Angel City Review, and Ariel Chart.

Please follow and like us:
Newer Post

Before @realDonaldTrump, I Used to Sing of Promise

One morning when I needed to shake the silence in my bones, I slipped out before sunrise and found the song I used to sing sitting on the ground by the dog’s favorite lamppost. I lifted it up and felt…
Read
Older Post

The River's Story

One step more, the river floor constituted of pebbles below me, slips between my toes. They are tortoiseshell, black, slick with fur and the few ivory stones pocked with beige blemishes.   The canopy a spectrum of greens shielded us…
Read
Random Post

Hi-Tech Silencing

Remembering the murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi October 2, 2019   a syringe needle jabbed through his white cotton thobe and the screaming stops, his thrashing body quiets down, a blade whirls and four fingers drop, are caught in a…
Read
Random Post

Rudolph the Red

This work purports to be fiction.   Once upon a time, I worked for the Washington, D.C., bureau of the Associated Press, covering the House of Representatives. But that was before the House Un-American Activities Committee declared war on Christmas…
Read
Random Post

The Powerful Monster

The powerful monster combs his hair in the morning, and flosses his flat, white teeth. He has a drawer full of watches that only speak to him; telling time would be traitorous. His suits are silk, as are his ties—soft…
Read
Random Post

It's the End of the World and We Know It

I haven’t been sleeping and the only REM I get is listening to their last album with original lineup, surprised by my sadness, the end of harmony. The scientists agree that there have never been more ways for the world…
Read