As the
incoming administration builds its agenda of attack on marginalized people, on
freedom of speech, on the earth itself, poetry will continue to be an essential
voice of resistance. Poets will speak out in solidarity, united
against hatred, systemic oppression, and violence and for justice, beauty,
and community.
In this
spirit, Split This Rock is offering its blog as a Virtual Open Mic. For the
rest of this frightening month, January of 2017, we invite you to send us poems
of resistance, power, and resilience.
We will post every poem we receive unless it is offensive (containing language that is derogatory toward marginalized groups, that belittles, uses hurtful stereotypes, etc.). After the Virtual Open Mic closes, we hope to print out and mail all of the poems to the White House.
We will post every poem we receive unless it is offensive (containing language that is derogatory toward marginalized groups, that belittles, uses hurtful stereotypes, etc.). After the Virtual Open Mic closes, we hope to print out and mail all of the poems to the White House.
For
guidelines on how to submit poems for this call, visit the Call for Poems of
Resistance, Power & Resilience blog post.
***
Because in Alabama it’s Robert E. Lee’s Day
by Salaam Green
by Salaam Green
Doing time in this black body; haven’t
gotten much justice
Dark wrists cuffed in front of ancestor’s
graves
Bulky coffee colored thighs rubbing
against each other
Unliberated muscles poised for
flight
Walking on hot pavement barefoot
I resist
Thick skinned knees pivot
Obliquing tired aligned toes from
the objected right
Marching in the key of David
Baker’s uniformed Incantation
Shouldering the resistance across
the Triade of tired biceps
Swaying birthing hips in the warfare
of the wind
I Resist
Because in Alabama it’s Robert E.
Lee’s Day
Celebrated on the bronzed back brother
poet MLK
Eyes catching sight of knitted
rebel flags on the chests of maverick mommas
Brandished lips loosed
Blowing the fray from
conscientious fingers
Cutting throats with the salty
spit swallowed during the “Make America great again repass”
I Resist
Laying wrinkled hands on the last dusty
black bible
Bought early in Grandfather’s
tenure
Smell the tall man’s cigar smoke
lingering from the bent edges
Daring the treasure of any black
body to fold
From the revelry of graveled
roadblocks
My God, I Resist.
My God, I Resist.
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