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The homosexual community has more acceptance in America than it ever has, and the suicide rate is as high as it's always been.

quote by Randall Terry
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A Valentine in Pain

A dream of hidden death,
Embedded in her flowers –
Dripping; drenched in nectar tears

Now the dream of dying soul;
Confined, a trembling heart is
Squeezing out the ember years

And in her dream of youth,
Abounding buttocks writhe,
Acting out the careless dares

But the dream of hideous beauty:
Self-delusion, begging fears

Evolving from an agonising birth, her
Blacker days eclipsing; draining worth

‘So ugly living calls to die –
Forever in the dreams I cry! ’

Erotic debt; a laughing lie
Were done for her –
A blade for sure!
The dreams to cure!

A calming sigh…

And in a smile of pain
She bled and waned
Her cold pathetic bye

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Elegiac Feelings American

1
How inseparable you and the America you saw yet was never
there to see; you and America, like the tree and the
ground, are one the same; yet how like a palm tree
in the state of Oregon. . . dead ere it blossomed,
like a snow polar loping the
Miami—
How so that which you were or hoped to be, and the
America not, the America you saw yet could
not see
So like yet unlike the ground from which you stemmed;
you stood upon America like a rootless
Hat-bottomed tree; to the squirrel there was no
divorcement in its hop of ground to its climb of
tree. . . until it saw no acorn fall, then it knew
there was no marriage between the two; how
fruitless, how useless, the sad unnaturalness
of nature; no wonder the dawn ceased being
a joy. . . for what good the earth and sun when
the tree in between is good for nothing. . . the
inseparable trinity, once dissevered, becomes a
cold fruitless meaningless thrice-marked
deathlie in its awful amputation. . . O butcher
the pork-chop is not the pig—The American
alien in America is a bitter truncation; and even
this elegy, dear Jack, shall have a butchered
tree, a tree beaten to a pulp, upon which it'll be
contained—no wonder no good news can be
written on such bad news—
How alien the natural home, aye, aye, how dies the tree when
the ground is foreign, cold, unfree—The winds
know not to blow the seed of the Redwood where
none before stood; no palm is blown to Oregon,
how wise the wind—Wise
too the senders of the prophet. . . knowing the
fertility of the designated spot where suchmeant
prophecy be announced and answerable—the
sower of wheat does not sow in the fields of cane;
for the sender of the voice did also send the ear.
And were little Liechtenstein, and not America, the
designation. . . surely then we'd the tongues of
Liechtenstein—
Was not so much our finding America as it was America finding
its voice in us; many spoke to America as though
America by land-right was theirs by law-right
legislatively acquired by materialistic coups of
wealth and inheritance; like the citizen of society
believes himself the owner of society, and what he
makes of himself he makes of America and thus when
he speaks of America he speaks of himself, and quite

[...] Read more

poem by Gregory Corso
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Suicide Lovers

suicide lovers 6x
suicide lovers are always there in the dark still together
still huging eachother still holding eachother up
suicide lovers are the only ones in the dark
shering ther feeling and shering ther thoughts
feeling pain and feeling love thinking about dieing
and thinking about been with eachotherno matter what
they talk about how there going to die together
holding hands and deareming about the day that comes

suicide lovers are the only ones int he dark still
hugging eachother and holding eachother up dreaming
about love and dreaming about the heart when it stops
we all die and we'll never give it up they think life has no point
theres nothing in the worldfor them exept for eachother
ther thinking about having a baby and dieing together

suicide lovers have a babythere baby is growing up good
and strong. healthy and stands up for herself the
she finds a guy just like her they are together forevere
they will never give it up ther love becomes pure and up ther
thinking about marriageand having a baby of there own
they have a son there dreams come truethey will call him
skyler a name they both like, they are thinking about another
baby so they have a girl and call her carli they thought that carli was
a goog name for there child skyler and carli are getting along
one is 17 and one is 21, damb they grow ou fast and strong
i cant belive what they been throug years dreaming and thinking
the world of each other they both find ther one and the both
are happy so they will be together forever! !
suicide lovers, suicide lovers, suicide lovers
suicide suicide i already diiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeedddddd...... loverrrrrrrrrrrrrss
suicide lovers suicide lovers are always in the dark

suicide lovers 6x
suicide lovers are always there in the dark still together
still huging eachother still holding eachother up
suicide lovers are the only ones in the dark
shering ther feeling and shering ther thoughts
feeling pain and feeling love thinking about dieing
and thinking about been with eachotherno matter what
they talk about how there going to die together
holding hands and deareming about the day that comes

suicide lovers are the only ones int he dark still
hugging eachother and holding eachother up dreaming
about love and dreaming about the heart when it stops
we all die and we'll never give it up they think life has no point
theres nothing in the worldfor them exept for eachother
ther thinking about having a baby and dieing together

[...] Read more

poem by Valya Madden
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My version of Ginsberg's America.

Against the filthy politics found in America and against the actions of it's dispicable governments.

America tell Coloumbus to fook off, take his smallpox and Capitalism with him.
America, you've swallowed your national mythology like pancakes and syrup.
America, Land where eugenics was tried

America, Land where the native americans cried
America, Land where warmongering thrives
America, you think you're the world police.
America, you were duped by a Christian to believe he's the prince of peace and now a black man convinces you the same.
America, your obsession with religion is insane.

America, I hope your guilt drives you to suicide, having to stare into the eyes of the children of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
America, I hope the masterminds of the Manhattan Project are suffering like they should.
America, your dream is as fake as Hollywood.
America, what the hell happened in Zuccotti Park?
America, you actually have a exhibition dedicated to Noah's ark?
America, where is this democracy you're trying to spread?
America, why won't you let the poor be fed?
America, you lead the west in destroying the world and waging war.

America land of MKULTRA and CO-INTELPRO
America land of Glenn beck, Neo-cons, where gay marriage is a 'no no'.
America, you're no city on the hill.
America, you're the home of the corporate shill.
America, you're oil addiction has make the globe ill.
America, your tv channels still project cold war closed minds.
America, how is it that slaves built the white house?
America, what exactly did you mean by 'All men are born free and equal'? Terms and conditions apply?
America, what are you doing to right past wrongs?

America, where's your concern for the Navajo?
America, I would've fought with Geronimo.
America, I think you've forgotten the Treaty of Fort Laramie.
America, Pay back in blood those killed at Wounded Knee.
America, you lied about Pine Ridge and the FBI really killed Annie Mae.
America, massacring to the tune of a million dollars to catch a single man.
America, which small country will you invade next? America, I can see your eyeing up Iran.
America, You wouldn't want what happened in Diego Garcia to happen to you.
America you know a thing or two about Coup

America Bikini Atoll is still ailing.
America, Love Canal is ruined.
America, I love the Wobblies.
America, The city of Chicago can built statues but it really just needs to apologize.
America, you've poisioned us all.
America, Land of Bush, of agent orange and Monsanto
America, Trainers of the Taliban, guards of Guantanamo

[...] Read more

poem by Scott Forster
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Den

Brain walls: bio-insulation keeps me cosy
in my hidden room.

Eye balls: bio-windows let me peer and sneer
upon our filthy race, with

Ear holes – bio-microphones – assuming tones
I only wish to face.

Inside, I flit between assimilation,
fantasy, and desperation – each another room
for me to occupy –

as in a nest or burrow, a honeycombed hive –
fathoming which to best survive in;
harbour me from that outside.
Shit! It’s just as bad in here –
I need another den to hide in!

So where’s a niche to keep me from the world,
but also from my rabid head?
Yes, of course –! it’s being dead.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Suicide.

Suicide, suicide
Your presence is near
Suicide, suicide
I wish you were here
Suicide, suicide
Take me away
Suicide, suicide
Please make it today
Suicide, suicide
An answer, for me
Suicide, suicide
I need to escape, be free
Suicide, suicide
I’ve had too much
Suicide, suicide
Take me, do your touch
Suicide, suicide
Leave the rest behind
Suicide, suicide
You’re all over my mind
Suicide, suicide
Let me pass in peace
Suicide, suicide
I need to release

poem by Lisa French
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Suicide, suicide

Suicide, suicide
Come and save me
Suicide, suicide
Come and take me
Suicide, suicide
Where are you hiding
Suicide, suicide
Please let it be now
Suicide, suicide
Give me and answer
Suicide, suicide
Release me, i beg of you
Suicide, suicide
I can't take no more
Suicide, suicide
Free me, please touch me
Suicide, suicide
Help me end this
Suicide, suicide
It's only you in my mind
Suicide, suicide
Take me silently
Suicide, suicide
I need it now more than ever

poem by Sumiya Khan
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Her Bliss

Death is in the flower's heart –
Why to cry for life of any petal?

Death in purple ink of weary pens
Betrays the written yearnings
On her scented paper.

Death is laughing in her cry;
Her broken heart forlorn upon the sleeve.

Death ignores the plight of any purity –
He doesn’t care or seem to be aware of
What her dewy eye desires,
For Death beckoned:

'Embrace the jar! '
And yes, she did –
For Death, of course.

After all, no other man would
Open up her hand and bid her with a kiss,
So Death became her bliss.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Embrace unconquerable life

Suicide; is a ghastily lingering spirit between
resplendently sparkling heaven and diabolically
ghastly hell,

Suicide; is the most desperately hedonistic crime
committed against every conceivable fraternity of all
mankind,

Suicide; is the most truculently unforgivable outburst
of any organism; murderously imperiling the crux of
symbiotically mesmerizing existence,

Suicide; is a ghoulishly amorphous abode; without the
most infinitesimal trace of doors; windows and
robustly functioning entities,

Suicide; is an indescribably treacherous venom; which
brutally asphyxiates the impoverished ghost; even
after the wholesome end of priceless life,

Suicide; is the most preposterously scurrilous corpse
that incarcerated you from all sides; morbidly
dampening every quintessential iota of your blood,

Suicide; is the most luridly mortifying death that an
entity could ever undergo; ensuring that he
indefatigably suffocated in diminutive lidfulls of
water while the other world danced; everytime it was
born,

Suicide; is the most ultimate curse of the devil upon
every civilization; religion and tribe; afflicting the
fabric of society like an uncontrollably lambasting
tumor; which simply had no end,

Suicide; is perniciously sinister balderdash; the most
incongruously distorted and heartlessly inclement
fantasy; that the stinking pigs could ever construe,

Suicide; is a coffin of disparagingly bludgeoning
solitude; a measly quavering insect being blown away
into the aisles of nothingness; at even the most
mercurial draught of infidel wind,

Suicide; is a salaciously jinxed witch casting her
spell of unsurpassable doom; even upon the most
blissfully gratifying of destinies,

Suicide; is a vindictively hollow and lecherously
gawky edifice; baselessly wavering towards the gallows

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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The American Way

1
I am a great American
I am almost nationalistic about it!
I love America like a madness!
But I am afraid to return to America
I'm even afraid to go into the American Express—

2
They are frankensteining Christ in America
in their Sunday campaigns
They are putting the fear of Christ in America
under their tents in their Sunday campaigns
They are driving old ladies mad with Christ in America
They are televising the gift of healing and the fear of hell
in America under their tents in their Sunday
campaigns
They are leaving their tents and are bringing their Christ
to the stadiums of America in their Sunday
campaigns
They are asking for a full house an all get out
for their Christ in the stadiums of America
They are getting them in their Sunday and Saturday
campaigns
They are asking them to come forward and fall on their
knees
because they are all guilty and they are coming
forward
in guilt and are falling on their knees weeping their
guilt
begging to be saved O Lord O Lord in their Monday
Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday
and Sunday campaigns

3
It is a time in which no man is extremely wondrous
It is a time in which rock stupidity
outsteps the 5th Column as the sole enemy in America
It is a time in which ignorance is a good Ameri-cun
ignorance is excused only where it is so
it is not so in America
Man is not guilty Christ is not to be feared
I am telling you the American Way is a hideous monster
eating Christ making Him into Oreos and Dr. Pepper
the sacrament of its foul mouth
I am telling you the devil is impersonating Christ in America
America's educators & preachers are the mental-dictators
of false intelligence they will not allow America
to be smart
they will only allow death to make America smart

[...] Read more

poem by Gregory Corso
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Dear suicide

Dear suicide
Why I ‘am alive?
Suicide suicide
Why is so sad?
A lot of pain in my life
Suicide suicide
My heart is so black
Full of pain and sadness
Suicide suicide
My thoughts were so nice
But now I’m so sad
Suicide suicide
I always cry, don’t hurt me again
I just want to be free and fly
Suicide suicide
I don’t want to cry anymore
All I want is fly in the sky
Suicide suicide
The end is coming for me
The beginning of the end of my life
Suicide suicide
Just let me rest in peace
And never come back
Suicide suicide
Time to go
I say goodbye
Suicide suicide
Thanks for listened to me
I’ll see you in my new life
Suicide suicide
Adios
Ciao
Goodbye.

poem by Alex Rodriguez
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Suicide Countdown.

suicide, suicide i wish i was dead.
suicide, suicide oh how much my wrists have bled.
suicide, suicide were almost there.
suicide, suicide no more skin, the blade will tear.
suicide, suicide we have one week.
suicide, suicide so filled with relief, i cannot speak.

seven days, suicide; until i die.
six days, suicide; no longer will i cry.
five days, suicide; ooh i cant wait.
four days, suicide; until i meet my fate.
three days, suicide; till my last word is said.
two days, suicide; twenty four hours till im dead.
one day, suicide; till night tears through dawn.
today, suicide; i am dead, i am gone.

{ some Tiddely Winks person, copied and pasted my poem on their profile. I WROTE THIS, IT ANGERS ME SAVAGELY TO THINK SOMEONE TOOK MY POEM.! !

poem by Marissa E '
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Suicide & Depression Of My Life.

Suicide. Is a big part of my daily income.
Suicide. Made My docter give me those drugs.
Suicide. Makes My life hole.
Suicide. I dont know any better.
Suicide. Theres no life for me with shelter.
Suicide. Can i ever be happy.?
Suicide. I push myself away from loving another.
Depression. Has made me a horrible person.
Depression. Pushed me away from the ones i needed.
Depression. Made me a bad person., as though im told.
Depression. Was caused by this thing called Shizophrenia.
Depression. Is something im told i will have to live with for the rest of my life.
Depression. Please, please. Help me. I want to get out.
Suicide. My wrists, they bleed more then enough.
Suicide. It hurts me, on inside and out.
Suicide. The day will come soon.
Suicide. Im over it, bring me a knife.
Suicide. This is hurting me so much.
Suicide. My hearts ripped apart.
Suicide. Dont worry this wont be the end.
Suicide. I will see you again.
Suicide. I love you, and that will never change.
Suicide. This isnt your fault.
Suicide. So goodbye to you, i love you, goodnight.
Suicide. Dont let me ruin your life.

*READ* To everyone who read this, this is pretty much what i have to feel each day, i have mental health problems, and thats something i have to live with, im only young so i have learnt to grow with it. Please, to anyone who think about suicide, dont.. It not only hurts you, but hurts people around you, and iv learnt that along the way. So be happy with what you have, and the people you've got. And be glad you dont have a mental disorder and a disease. It hurts, so bad. =(

poem by Tegaana randomm
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Any form of life was better than death

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw countless haplessly orphaned children; being viciously kicked into dustbins of malice; for ostensibly no reason or rhyme,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw the pricelessly innocuous female fetus; being brutally assassinated and aborted; right in the very depths of the unassailably godly womb,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw heartlessly cold-blooded men; ruthlessly felling innumerable a tree; using its blessed branches; trunk and roots; for evolving lifelessly wastrel commodities,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw demonically manipulating politicians; weigh the very essence of unconquerably righteous life; in terms of wantonly decrepit currency coin,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw innocently minor girls being brutally raped; by the diabolically idiosyncratic perversions of sadistic man,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw peerlessly impeccable blood being parasitically sucked from newborn forms; just in order to spuriously enrich and consecrate; the already blessed and bountiful human form,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw boundless wives and children reduced to a cadaverous carcass; as the man of the family simply refrained to budge an inch to earn; cannibalistically guzzling the last dropp of wine and vixen; to be found of planet earth,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw beautifully fructifying wildlife being emotionlessly beheaded; just in order to become the exuberant delicacy; of the already replenished palette,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw robustly ebullient organisms doing nothing but just endlessly gazing at fathomless sky; nonsensically proclaiming that their destiny would one day and eventually take them to the absolute epitome of cloud nine,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw one man derogatorily slaving and slavering for another man; wherein the Omnipotent Creator had created all symbiotically equal in the first place,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw millions of innocent being indiscriminately butchered; in the wrath and aftermath of barbarously thwarting bombardment and war,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw satanic terrorists launch an inconsolably pulverizing assault on one particular fraternity of mankind; in the name of sacrifice to the Omnipresent Lord,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw hordes of people blindfoldedly offering their last ounce of wealth to the Omnipotent deity of the Lord; who in the first place owned every speck of the unending Universe; and who wanted them to benevolently donate the same to all suffering living kind instead,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw school going girls and boys begging hoarsely on the obdurately chauvinistic streets; with their parents abhorrently using them to tickle the soft corner of the opulent society,
I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw women of all ages; right from the age of my daughter; to sister to mother; tawdrily selling their flesh to hedonistically dastardly men; just for securing those two quintessential morsels of food,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw limitless dying unattended on the freezing streets; because of unforgivably ghastly corruption; viciously infiltrating in every echelon of the government and society,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw impudently pretentious brats; telling their life-bestowing parents to clean the stagnating shit in their houses; whilst they themselves deliriously drowned themselves; into barrels of sinfully expensive wine and cigarette smoke,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw the most perpetually faithful of lovers salaciously separate like a miserably broken leaf; at the tiniest of objection from the sanctimoniously turgid society,

I felt like committing suicide there and then itself. Everytime I saw selfishly shriveled man; praying to God for solely impregnating his lungs with a countless breaths; instead of immortally sharing the same in perfect symbiosis with endless numbers of his own kind,

But when I was actually committing suicide. I felt that any form of life was better than death; as I approached my very last breath. For if at all I could endeavor my very best to ameliorate every fraternity of estranged and maliciously cannibalistic living kind; then by the grace of God it could be only while in undefeated life and not the slightest after stonily gory death…

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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America

Walkin' 2 the corner of Main Street, USA
Look at the good people, hear what they gotta say-uh-huh
All right
See a sexy girl with her long black hair
See a preacher man sporting Abercrombie wear-uh-huh
All right
Walk into a corner store
A man says, "This is what I'm fighting for"
[CHORUS]
We are living in America
We're giving in America
We're tripping in America
Everywhere I go, seems like Bush is on TV
We shed blood in the name of liberty-uh-huh
All right
The circus tents are dead, but the sideshow is doing well
The Osbournes and Anna Nicole are too freaky 2 tell-uh-huh
All right
Take the bad with the good
I wanna change it, but I wouldn't leave it if I could
We are trying in America
We're spying in America
Getting high in America
We are laughing in America
We're crying in America
We're dying in America
We are trucking in America
We are f**king in America
We are lucky in America
We are breaking ground in America
Just another town in America
We are breaking down in America
Take the bad with the good
I wanna change it, but I wouldn't leave it if I could
[CHORUS]
We are trying in America
We're spying in America
We're getting high in America
We are getting tan in America
We love Spam in America
Polanski's banned from America
10 million served in America
Have u heard in America?
We're crying in America
We're laughing in America
We're living in America

song performed by Jewel
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Dont Try Suicide

Words and music by freddie mercury
A-one two three four one
Yeah
Ok
Dont do it dont you try it baby
Dont do that dont dont dont
Dont do that
You got a good thing going now
Dont do it dont do it
Dont
Dont try suicide
Nobodys worth it
Dont try suicide
Nobody cares
Dont try suicide
Youre just gonna hate it
Dont try suicide
Nobody gives a damn
So you think its the easy way out?
Think youre gonna slash your wrists
This time
Baby when you do it all you do is
Get on my tits
Dont do that try try try baby
Dont do that - you got a good thing going now
Dont do it dont do it
Dont
Dont try suicide
Nobodys worth it
Dont try suicide
Nobody cares
Dont try suicide
Youre just gonna hate it
Dont try suicide
Nobody gives a damn
You need help
Look at yourself you need help
You need life
So dont hang yourself
Its ok ok ok ok
You just cant be a prick teaser all of the time
A little bit attention - you got it
Need some affection - you got it
Suicide suicide suicide bid
Suicide suicide suicide bid
Suicide
Dont do it dont do it dont do it babe (yeah)
Dont do it dont do it dont - do it
Yeah
Dont put your neck on the line

[...] Read more

song performed by Queen
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She’s Gone

Eyes bemused –
A disconnect

Dermal swathes of young and old
Reject the guessing of your age

You’re blind –
A blueprint for blankness

Your dreaming pipes through nothingness –

Are you still afloat? – atop the oceans,
Heaving, heavy over Hell,
Boiling, spoiling in a mind that couldn’t cope.

Ah! but Death smiles
And so do you

Kissing Him
Is all to do!

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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America

(Francis Scott Key)
Oh, say, can you see
By the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed
At the twilight's last gleaming
Whose broad stripes and bright stars
Through the perilous fight
O'er the ramparts we watched were so
Gallantly streaming?
America, America, America
America, America, America
And the rocket's red glare
The bombs bursting in air
Gave proof through the night
That our flag was still there
Oh, say, does that star
Spangled banner yet wave
Over the land of the free
And the home of the brave!
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America
ooohhh

song performed by Lou Reed
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Atomic Insanity Bomb

America, we're drained of enthusiasm for you
America, why this meaningless war?
America, you are no longer beautiful
America, when will you see the light?
When will you call peace and dance and sing
When will you look in the mirror
and see the menace you have become?
When will you read the philosophies of God
that say Thou Shalt Not Kill?
America, when will you open your eyes?
America, why do you dye the shores red?
Why are the guns loaded with skulls?
Why do you leave your brothers behind
To charge bull-like at a cloth too large for you?
America, why are you putting a gun to your head?
America, stop killing me I'm not
Innocent, not Guilty
AMERICA STOP PUSHING!
America don't liberate me I'm already independent.
America I refuse to give up my rights
I refuse to give up others' rights
America don't reject your own
America the HATE is growing
They're rising up growing
America, let the prisoners go
The scholars of war in peace in hate in freedom
The Ginsbergs and Kerouacs and Dickesons and Whitmans
Of generations past
Free the ones whose philosophies peace it together
America your war is at home
America what is your motto?
Mission is not accomplished
It has just started.
America you have life to give,
not take away.
America, you deserve this war
America, my love for you is gone
America, monster, stop your screaming slashing rage
Look into your past
America LEARN from your mistakes
America, make it continue
AMERICA MAKE IT STOP

poem by Lex Newman
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Black America (The Story Of Pain And Glory)

From the rich land of Africa where we were King's of our soil dripped in gold brought to you beaten, battered, and sold.America, we sailed across your rippling seas against our will as we sought survival while thousands of us lay desolate, demoralized, and dead before arrival.America, finally here where we forced to work without pay as our blood, sweat, and tears trickled against our brown skin from sun up till the break of day.America, to pass the crawling time spent on our ragged heels we let our voices ring out across the cotton fields. America, we sang, oh yes! we sang. About our captivity as well as are spirituality. America, song expressed our inner hope and sorrow for yesterday, today, and even tomorrow. America, your Constitution states that all men are created equal as we stood chained and lacerated from the leather, so tell me what holds more weight the Constitution or a feather? America, One nation under God indivisible with liberty and justice for all that's what we were taught. One nation under God indivisible with liberty and justice for y'all that's what we thought. America, your sun didn't shine so bright or fast while our fight we just had to outlast. And the struggle poured like Seattle rain, but 1863 finally free of those chains. America, but you didn't stop your hatred while many fled to the North where we felt the safest. In these days we still couldn't progress just an inch, it felt like a bad dream only we couldn't be pinched, as every waking morning the news read 'Another Negro Lynched'. America, throughout all the hardships we always had the music, music which bled through the depths of our souls, from the early spirituals of our ancestors singing 'Wade in the Water' to the muddy banks of the Mississippi where Men like Son House, Charley Patton, Muddy Waters, and Howlin' Wolf were playing all night in Juke Joints as liquor spilled, smoke rose, and sweat poured to the heartbeat of the Blues. Robert Johnson...ahhh...Robert Johnson the incomparable Blues-man who howled at the dusty moon! Broken ax slung over his shoulder, voice trembling at the crossroads as he wrapped his spider-like fingers around his guitar, picking with fury, singing 'I'm a steady rollin' man, I roll both night and day but I don't have no sweet woman to be rollin' this-a-way'. These Blues which began in the cotton fields and the Delta South made their way to the concrete jungle, the rhythm pulsating streets of Harlem where cool cats like Thelonious Monk, Dizzy Gillespie, and Charlie Parker were composing the wild and mystical sounds of Bop, (Be-Bop Be-Bop) Miles...ahhh...Miles Davis, the epitome of hip- dark shades, golden trumpet blowing in the streets of eternity, sweat dripping, veins screaming, his look- brooding and low externally blowing internal blues, his melody- colorful and vibrant as the most perfect hue, his notes- which would bend at his very will, his sound- captured and momentarily made still. And, the music well it's still something I can't quite explain, something that stabs you in the heart but feels so good! America, why all the suffering, why all the pain? here it is 1963 and your still the same. Segregated laws, segregated halls, man we couldn't catch a break even segregated stalls. Soon enough leaders for a new change arose out of the ashes of bigotry and etched there names into the walls of history. Huey P. Newton, Rosa Parks, Malcolm X illuminated the spirit of our youth and aged alike. Dr. King...ahhh...Martin Luther King Jr. our own worldly king of peace. Pah, Pah, ! two bullets cut across the Memphis sky, dream deceased. America, why when a King emerges you dethrone them? Is it because when the people don't have a voice you know you can control them? 1968 the years progressed tension rose creating stress, buildings burned as the country turned to a blank page of restless and un-godly rage. America, you killed our leaders but you could never kill our spirit.1975- we came to a period of self-empowerment and once again the music shined through us emphasizing the way we spoke and acted. 'Say it loud I'm Black and I'm proud' rang out through the inner city where poverty whispered around every corner. Gil-Scott Heron, Parliament Funkadelic, Curtis Mayfield, and Issac Hayes gave us a sense of belonging with their soul-stirring words and rhythm. The Godfather of soul...ahhh...James Brown the funkiest man in America, who grooved and shuffled across the stage, cape flowing across his back singing: 'It's a mans world oh but it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a Woman or a girl' The black woman- Mother of Earth, nurturer of child, teacher of love, where would our story be without you? 1994- The times they were a-changin' (as Dylan's prophecy read) the inner city, well the poverty wasn't whispering anymore rather howling through the street corners and the music reflected the times. Big Daddy Kane, Rakim, Run DMC, and Tupac rapped the images they seen in their everyday existence. Christopher Wallace...ahhh... The Notorious B.I.G. rapped from the depths of his belly providing us with imagery and story which have yet to be rivaled. 'It was all a dream I used to read word up magazine salt n pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine' pah! pah! two bullets cut across the L.A. sky dream deceased. America, it hasn't been a dream rather a nightmare. America we can forgive but we can't forget. It's been nearly 600 years since you brought us here, men and women driven away from our family and peers.2012- America, look how far we've come from Kings to shackles back to Kings. America, your root of existence is planted by our seed and finally it's beginning to sprout. For so many years we were looked at as just an un-worthy resident, now look at us Barack Obama first Black president. America I am you, America we are you, America we are your story- Black America pain and glory.

poem by Electric Hipster
Added by Poetry Lover
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