Something Not Poetry.

It is sorrowful to me that high school literature curriculum for most of America, specifically California has not changed. To be frank, it is still very much White. I have been a youth leader and tutor for humanities, history and literature for the past two years and I am appalled at the homework I have been assisting teenagers with. I have students inquiring about #kylahspring or the origins of the #AfricanAmerican people of the diaspora, including the inception of the indegenious people yet teachers are still assigning  #CatcherInTheRye or #TheGreatGatsby, which are essentially prejudiced pieces of literature. Indicatively, I have not ascertained one piece of diverse or neoteric work being popularized into their curriculum written by a BIPOC. #America loves to say that it’s changing for the better, yet in many aspects, when it comes to education, we are eons behind the rest of the world. Ultimately, I believe that will be our downfall.

The Hidden Snake

I hurt from the pain I see.

I can’t stop these tears that awash my face.

There is a terrorist attack happening,

And It’s on my people.

My people are being

Killed,

Raped,

Choked,

Sprayed,

Targeted,

Hunted,

Treated like animals,

Treated as If we don’t exist,

As If we don’t matter.

I am lost,

I am somewhere.

My body longs for freedom.

To soar above the clouds,

Away from oppression,

Away from man.

I long to call for help,

To call a SOS.

But the people I would normally call,

In a time of need,

Are intent on persecuting me.

I see no win.

I see no escape.

I feel my people’s pain.

I hear their cry.

Will the Pharoahs of the world ever let us out of our bonds?

How long before God hears our prayer?

I am even being hunted in God’s sanctuary!

When will my people find release?

When will my people ever be avenged?

-N