Tag Archive | racism

Nigger Season

The Benefits Of Civil War

If I walk outside my house I may be shot dead
By some teen with a license which is his white skin.
It may be for no other reason than I’m black,
And a crime such as that is well worth an attack.
What can I do about my original sin?
Following this dark sequence is done with much dread.

But I have to go through it. I have not the choice
But to work out this puzzle witch fucks with the mind.
It’s not that I’m heartbroken. I’m now wide awake
To the hate that is due me. No hand may I shake
That is not mine in color. In this can I find
Some perverted assed reason for me to rejoice?

No I can’t. So, it’s best that I piss and move on.
Survival is a given until it is not.
I remain just as helpless as decades ago.
Civil rights was a pipe dream, and as the weeds grow
Hatred lingers and forces itself by gunshot.
‘Seems we’ll never live up to the manicured lawn.

The procession of seasons that nature provides
Is severely augmented by issues of race.
Responding to the gut punch, I find some relief.
And my role in the picture is that much more brief.
My death may be related to some lame court case.
That’s where I am. I now leave it up to my guides.

Who They Are

The Deranged And Deplorable

Those who know who you are also know what you’ve done
And we know how far you will go to take away
Every right to protest you, including our votes.
Your evil and seditious savage psychic oats
Bring about death to women. May there come a day
When your sick righteousness has no power to stun.

To enlist spies and snitches to go and harass
Is to turn back the clock to the middle ages.
Our protection from COVID is not an issue
To old white men in high places who adhere to
Interests of big companies. Yet the wages
For malefic behavior you will not bypass.

You have been a few rounds, but we know who you are.
Tens of millions united of every party,
Race, and creed – you should know us in these times as well.
Since the swamp has been draining there’s been a bad smell
Permeating the nation. Yet democracy
Shall remain most resilient but with a deep scar.

We defeated you nicely in the recent past.
We’re as mad as hell and much colder than you are.
Elections now upcoming will be fights between
We who believe in freedom and those of obscene
Grasp of absolute power. Your fall will be far
To complete dissolution which ever shall last.

Missing Inaction

The Norm Of Inequality

When a white girl is missing, all are up in arms.
There are many resources expended to find
Every clue to her whereabouts. Amber alerts
Are broadcasted profusely, and the thing that hurts
Is that black and brown females are left far behind
In the blessing of God’s grace. Everyone it harms.

Every standard young white couple out on the trail
Is a thing of great value and such a fresh sight
Until something turns ugly. The man is believed,
And the woman’s whole take on things is misperceived.
If this couple were black, would the system be right?
One or both of them surely would end up in jail.

There’s no knee-to-the-neck justice for the white man.
He may bullshit his way into running scot free.
A fake twenty dollar bill is just not the same
As a white woman’s murder. Yet he bears no blame
Until things are so obvious for all to see.
Institutional racism is a dark plan.

 To ask if there’s a problem with anything here
That is written or written of is but to jest.
My whole purpose in writing is to explore truth.
As we look to the future, it is in our youth
That the cycle be broken – not just not expressed.
We as humans can avoid a future austere.

The Most Visible Spectra

Popular Foci Of Attention

Were it up to the children where would the world be?
They observe all the spectra from visible white
To invisible darkness. They have much to say
About how adults function, and in their own way
They provoke all to examine what’s wrong from right –
Something not every adult can easily see.

If we did listen to them, would anything change?
Would it end white supremacy as an ideal?
Can we all who are nonwhite give white folks a break
By reducing our birth rate for pure whiteness sake?
What’s been brought to extinction by whites is quite real.
History doesn’t teach that. Why is it so strange?

Everything is political. Wearing a mask
Is now making a statement about who you are,
As is boldly not wearing one in defiance.
Do we need to have children tell us what makes sense?
Were it not so grotesque, one could call it bizarre.
Good behavior is now an impossible task.

From extreme ultra right to infra liberal
All that we can deem visible we focus on.
The inverse of our wavelength is our frequency
Which allows each by free will to choose how to be.
Should it be ours to teach what conclusions are drawn
When the students have more of a sane rationale?

The Simmering Cauldron

Leading The War Pack

It’s the blue bloods and red hats – the dems and repubs –
Liberals and conservatives… always two teams
To prepare for a civil war ever to come.
Yet not all become soldiers; only certain some.
I’ve been warned since childhood that I’m part of their dreams.
Should I then be a soldier? I’m not good with clubs.

Nor am I good at understanding the deep hate
That one race has for all others everywhere known.
Congressmen speak preparedness just like the ones
Who have nurtured their hatred and value their guns
For that war that keeps coming. Our leaders condone
Blatantly what the others should not tolerate.

All the twisting of facts and the crafty mind games
Have a definite purpose. It is to erode
Any sense of reality except the one
Where the most racist sentiments can be homespun.
As the truth starts to simmer, true colors explode
Through the army, exposing its nastiest aims.

It’s now out in the open. There’s nothing to hide.
It’s confirmed. I’m the enemy. No change has come
Over decades of civil rights. Your smiling face
Remains in the minority, as will your race
In a few generations. Keep beating your drum
In expression of panic regarding white pride.

Underprivilege

Four Faces of Feces

When I can’t find a nigger to shine my damned shoes
And my cold leather heart is the beat of remorse
For acceptance of coon ways in society,
What is wrong with this country I clearly can see.
We’ve a ship with a captain who’s steering off course.
I’m entitled to at least good drugs to abuse.

Niggers give me the willies. I just can’t allow
Their kind anywhere near me. I fear I’ll become
Inundated with liberal ideal perfume.
I’d prefer that my poor white brother not assume
That I’m black anywhere inside. Those nasty scum
Need to go back to somewhere somehow and right now.

I know that I’m a bigot. I’m proud to be one.
My maturity level makes that important
Along with the abuse of women and children.
Good old days were of silence. To have them again
Is a fervent fulfillment. No one says I can’t
Be the racist I want to be and have some fun.

Leadership we are made for no matter our style.
Jungle bunnies don’t govern. They just find a way
To make government programs to pamper the poor.
It would thrill me to no end to show one the door
To the darkness that is them. I’ll never betray
My supremacist outlook. We’re here to defile.

The Confederate Hillbillies

Nightmare Cowboy Saga

It’s a story ‘bout a nation and the ku klux klan
And of every kind of hatred that can be conceived by man.
On some land already taken, their own freedom they pursued
Through the power the musket and the will to delude.

Disenchanted, once they got here, by too much diversity,
They decided this is not the way a country ought to be
So they came up with a system that we call democracy
But it’s only for the ones who are as white as they can be.

They believe in white supremacy and Christianity
And the good old days of lawlessness and wholesale slavery
Only Christian Europeans deserve their own promised land
And to hell with any others who just will not understand.

Does this story have an ending? No! It keeps continuing.
A black chink upon our shining armor only does it bring.
If it’s not for social justice then for what does freedom ring?
Is it for that group of rednecks who find fault with everything?

So, the future of this troubled nation could be seen as bleak.
Firearms and civil unrest are the only ways to speak
And like cowboys in the wild west, those gold nuggets that they seek
Are the ones that come from Russia. This does make us rather weak.

But there’s always hope that human nature will evolve someday
In a way that’s all inclusive and in much less disarray
Every citizen among us has the blessed right to be
In the bounty of a healthy and a sane society.

Heard Immunity

The Continuance Of Aftermath

On approaching the climax of social disease
Evolution of hate networks reaches its peak
Spreading literal violence throughout the land.
Network Spews is the lifeblood we witness firsthand
Through the acts of the populous whose minds are weak.
Can a nation recover from such times as these?

One America, schizoid, is out of control
Believing insurrection must be the right way.
Funded by evil forces with dark network ties,
The proud group of deplorables truly despise
Anyone who is different, and they must play
Vehemently their ill-assumed psychotic role.

Those who’ve heard that a white country is most evolved
And that people of color are a subspecies
Then believe in a white world where all must adhere
To a whitewashed supremacist doctrine in fear.
In a world such as this, white men do as they please
And the issues of living are never resolved.

That’s the way it should be to the ones who forget
That this nation was built by the sweat of non-whites.
It’s been since commandeered by the human ego.
Network Spews is for people who don’t want to know
What is of the truth, especially civil rights.
Those immune to reality are the big threat.

The World Not My Own

Among Alien Life Form

Why don’t I stop my whining. Things are not that bad
Given I’m in my own world where no one belongs
Nor would want to spend time here. I feel the same way
About having to deal with people every day.
I am grateful that I can keep track of my wrongs
And how lousy I turned out to be as a dad.

To be sociophobic is not a disease
But a means of survival for those who do harm
To others through the mind that is severely ill.
Do I harm others because it gives me a thrill?
Might as well it may, because I sound the alarm
Of intent of the not well as everyone sees.

I’m afraid of humanity – mine most of all.
I am part of a species yet so alien
Am I to all its mores and odd behaviors.
Intellect is not instinct. It only ensures
That the pain will be something I’ll suffer again
And again for atonement for playing it small.

As the race battles rage on across the frontier
Families are the structures that will become more
In touch with their realities. Self and other
Is the realm of existence where life must occur.
Might we get through this well having done it before?
Alien, I am part of a species austere.

Who Was Jim Crow?

Darkest Roots Of The History

Jim Crow wasn’t a real person but a stage act
Performed by Thomas Dartmouth Rice, a white actor.
The sole act he performed was called Jumping Jim Crow.
Dressed in rags and with blackface, on stage he would go
To depict lives of black folks as stupid and poor.
He gained much benefit from the twisting of fact.

This form of entertainment became popular.
He himself was a Yankee, yet traveled afar
Spreading his brand of poison all over the land
To poor downtrodden hardworking whites who could stand
Making fun of a scapegoat, though feathers and tar
Would be much preferable and hugely bizarre.

In those times laws were strictly enforced to keep blacks
From comingling with whites in any kind of way.
Ruthless rules of repression were called Jim Crow laws.
…Seems the dude’s act was fruitful in hindsight because
Uncle Sam gave it substance, so people could say
That it’s righteous for whites to administer tax.

Systemic Segregation exists to this day.
Complete eradication is futile at best.
Its roots aren’t all that southern. They grow through the soil
Of the earth all are made of. Unending turmoil
Is the plight of humanity as it’s expressed
Through our hateful behaviors. Are we our own prey?

Story Theater

Storytale Weaving

Once upon a time there was a worthy black man –
One who many supported to take on the task
Of preparing this young nation for a new age.
We The People had spoken. This has caused much rage
Among those white supremacists proud to unmask
Their grotesque ugliness because they’re better than…

Masterminds were the Russians who planned an attack
To the heart of our functioning as a free land
Where hatred is allowed but not criminal acts.
It’s ok though to find ways to single out blacks
To inflict harm upon them. They must understand
That the law is a needle within a haystack.

So, the nation was hijacked. For four hellish years
Daily we were inundated with wicked lies.
Psychic tension unyielding had become the norm.
Turning on some device to another shit storm
Of outrageous behavior became not so wise
But not knowing leads to aggravation of fears.

The orange one-term crook loser still has much control
Of a grand old fart party and all whites who hate.
My black heart is awakened to uncivil rights
That demand exaltation of all the land’s whites.
It’s not likely to happen. What wrath lies in wait
That will swallow this nation and blacken its soul?

Storytelling is commonplace post the disease
That infected this nation and did it great harm.
Those who lose are sore losers and act like children.
The orange rump is now god among wicked white men.
Can the story have an ending where we disarm
Once again like what happened back in the sixties?

The Zoo That Needs Keeping

Dark Child's Defeat

Doctor’s Ooze of the dark mind germane to the rule
Of the arid republic need be maintained still.
Hideously the hatred – the drumbeat of heart –
Beats nonsense as if nature. Full-on can it smart
Body Politic already bloodstained by will?
It is known and how well it performs as a fuel.

Continue to continue contingent to clue
Contrary by the nature that hangs everyone
Noose-necked-naked-assed nasty nowhere near the goal.
If each cell has a function, each plays its own role.
Rigorously reviled for past deeds freely done,
Insufficient momentum is not a breakthrough.

The Political Body split down the middle
More than ever, the nonsense knows of its near end,
Never ending the downturn each cycle reveals.
Fortunate is the body who better it feels
After deep self-assessment. Each does comprehend
How one makes one’s own drama a perfect riddle.

Going on like this has its own rigor with ways
To cause all who are human to stop and reflect
On what kind of a test we are willing to take.
Do we fail in the end or become more awake
To surviving while maintaining civil respect?
Who alone can have answers to end the malaise?

You’re About To Ride The Lightnin’, Son…

The Good Old Days

“White Lightnin’ … White Lightnin’ … We’re in red hot pursuit.
We got one in escape mode… We need some support!”
This one’s awfully dangerous with his sharp tongue

But this black nigger bee is about to get stung
By the wasp of enforcement. His life we’ll cut short
If he so much as whimpers. Our thrill is To Shoot!

Up against the wall, nigger, with hands clearly seen.
Take your shoes off and tap dance on hot asphalt roads.
Lick my boots and then give them an excellent shine.
Since that’s one of your best talents why do you whine?
We take much pride and pleasure in hunt episodes
Where the prey are so many and already mean.

Lightnin’ strikes every day, son. This fine one is yours.
And for me it’s an excuse to let off some steam.
Family life frustrations and issues at work
Punctuate my history, so I Am A Jerk
And so fucking proud of it that often I dream

Of a nation of assholes and bloody race wars.

Oh, did we make a faux pas in being so rude…
Pepper spraying your dog and you and needlessly?
Well, that’s life on the lightnin’ bolt. What will you do?
 To the false right we claim, you’ve the real right to sue.
We’re still back in the forties as far as I see.
This one hell of a negative triggers my mood.

White America First KK Kaucus

The Call To Exterminate

How does one describe hatred ingrained in the soul
Against others too different? It puzzles me
After decades of civil rights. Am I naïve
In my third second childhood? I want to believe
That this nation adores me and that I will be
Treated just as all others. I should play that role.

But the hatred is overt… so up in my face
About pride in their country and how they’ve been wronged.
The dank cauldron of congress contains a sick brew
For weak minds to soak up. What it all boils down to
Is their right to hunt niggers. The fight is prolonged.
The incitement to violence is due to race.

White-hooded Christianity curses this land
Where I was born and raised and would claim as my own
Just as others here like me in every which way.
But to think that I’m loved here is just self-dismay.
Why I’m hated so damned much may never be known.
In the next realm perhaps I can then understand.

But you have no right to send me there at your will.
Your instinct to exterminate isn’t the kind
That humanity thrives on. The reverse is true.
Christ lived not among white folk. Take that as a clue.
Mixing crap with reality fucks with the mind.
You throw tantrums because you’re not able to kill.

Death Of The Party

Perverse Entertainment

Human drama unfolds as expected these days.
One need not own a TV to sense what is news.
Any person of color can feel the outrage
Of the animal instinct. Upon the world stage
The racist body politic echoes its views
Of righteous indignation and will to abrase.

A sedate subtle simmering has not its peak.
A political time bomb is due to go off
Yet it can’t be determined when it will explode.
I prepare my strange heart for the next episode.
Deep dark damaging hatred is noting to scoff.
Sanity within safety is all that I seek.

My last visit to my bank was just such a test.
The Caucasian bank teller did ask me if I
Added all of the numbers up all on my own
But I chose to ignore her despicable tone
Lest a knee to the neck be my fate if I try
To respond as appropriate. How is this best?

I live not in a nation where I can feel safe
Let alone feel some ownership of my homeland.
Even though proper people now have taken charge
Civil war is a chronic event by and large.
The nature of the hatred I can’t understand.
All I know is I’m feeling much more like a waif.

The Squalid

The "Deplorable" Ones

Someone called them ‘deplorable’ once. The Term Fits
More so right now than ever. They’re getting much worse.
Other ‘civilized’ countries take pity on us.
We’re the ripped open scab that is now oozing puss.
The much more first world nations consider our curse
A surreal evolution that evil permits.

Such a team of fine leaders – indeed but the best…
All the Tuberville’s, Jordan’s, McCarthy’s, Hawley’s,
Lauren Boebert’s, Ted Cruz’s, and sick Taylor Greene’s…
Have top notch educations and provident means
To support filth and violence. Scum such as these
Are the brains of the business of social unrest.

Never had it been done. To come up with a plan
So crazy it just might work takes some kind of nerve.
With the flag of the nation crumpled in their minds,
Wild conspiracy theories and lies of all kinds
Spark the sickness in childish ones who they subserve
In commission of high crimes befitting the klan.

We all know of their names now. What they almost did
Was their damnedest endeavor to make the alt-right
A new change in direction. They will try again.
May this world be relieved of the scourge of white men?
They may think they have power to keep up the fight,
But the numbers defeat them and usher their rid.

After The Riots

Foresight Post Trauma

A diehard chump supporter, not feeling at ease
Even though it’s a dark stage, is mostly unseen.
That’s because he’s a coward who will only share
His psychosis verbosely with heartfelt despair
If he remains anonymous. Mental hygiene
Is of newsworthy focus and analyses.

 Self-described as soft spoken, this family man
Made a trek across country to participate
In the great resurrection and stopping the steal.
Knowing not what is hogwash from that which is real,

All these ‘boys’ groups of stunted growth live but to hate,
And the wages of such is a shorter lifespan.

As if Alice in Wonderland married Sambo
And gave birth to some colored dwarfs, then took a vow
To denounce her snow whiteness – these poor folk are sick!
Like lost bullshit dispensers, they lay it on thick.
Any trick of the mind they will use to allow
Complete justification for their redneck show.

Their false godhead betrayed them, yet some still have hope
That return to the good times of wholesome hatred
May enforce understanding that racial divide
Is the way God intended. Malefic white pride
Is the scourge of the nation because it’s widespread.
Waiting for their next orders, in limbo they cope.

“Don’t believe what they tell you; they’re all full of lies,”
The conservative mantra is echoed worldwide.

Bigotry is convenience in making things fit.
Yet some facts in the mix that they try to omit
Are that people of color have nothing to hide
And things won’t change to suit them despite futile tries.

Waiting Room

Psychic Horror

A pathetic old nigger, a white therapist
To help disabled veterans feel more at home,
And a video linkup is just the right mix
To drive this one to self-harm. But I’ve a few tricks
To prevent my demise through the psychic syndrome
Of the unworthy beggar who should not exist.

And for what do I cry like a pitiful child?
My ego is too big to be picked up and held.
Bitterness does become me… Bravo for their side!
Knowing they’d care to know one more nigger has died,
I must revisit ‘treatment.’ I’m damned to be felled
By the race of the politic cold and defiled.

Yes, I did serve my country, but now I’m too old
And so not white of color in such a red state…
And within an enigma disguised as health care.
Only fools seek love in places they should beware.
No one knows that I’m not one so no one can hate
My confounded existence not white man controlled.

I can’t call you a white robot bitch to your face
But right here I’m the one in absolute control.
You taught me a good lesson today, so thank you.
Rhetoric is your venom. The ‘care’ that you spew
I can smell like wet chicken flesh. This one of soul
Knows well where he’s not wanted, which is every place.

Has my life been a hospice in hell these past years
Having now seen the blackness of human nature?
My questions are not stupid because who would care?
Someone like Clarence Thomas who’s eerily fair?
Not much more of the bullshit of life I’ll endure.
Neither heartbroken am I, nor am I in tears.

Heritage

The Origin Of All

Before chicken or egg comes the mindset in which
Human nature takes on a grotesque atmosphere.
Tribes among us belonging to no other tribe
But their own feel that they own their negative vibe
That the healthy pick up on. To what they adhere
Is not worthy of mention. It makes the heart twitch.

 Groups of boys are the threat now – as proud as can be…
But of what? Their pure whiteness? Or is it their youth?
Adolescent behavior among grown adults
Was allowed to run rampant with deadly results.
Their gender and stupidity keep them uncouth.
Other groups of color protest violence free.

Still the binary treatment remains in the craw
Of we who were called ‘colored’ way back in the day.
One could say it’s a cancer in our human race
But whatever its name, as a race, we must face
Or be doomed to destruction the proud infants’ way.
It’s not all a surprise that they’re friends with the law.

Heritage is tradition – something handed down
To future generations. All forefathers now
Look upon us from spirit and do not condone
‘Prideful’ acts of their offspring through which it is shown
That their pride, ego based, is perverted somehow.
We’re one part of creation, but we’re not the crown!

A Cut Through The Chase

A Reawakening to 'The Dream'

Is the chasing of wild geese more right than the tame?
What the mind will run after without a real goal
Is its own misperceptions that grow out of fear
That the ways of seclusion may soon disappear.
With no sense of direction they need the control
Of an arrogant leader who knows not of shame.

It is through repetition the con game is played.
In most rapid succession the lies that are spewed
Are the same, yet each has an ill-fated effect
On those ones of us programmed to withhold respect
For select populations. The urge to exclude
In the hearts of so many makes children afraid.

Citizens not susceptible happen to be
In a group with one label. In monochrome view,
Some enact their nostalgia for the good old days.
The intense subtle training through pre-adult phase
Melds the mind’s microprocessor for what to do
When they’re called to hate duty spontaneously.

Is the way to cut through this simply to take part
In what I am a part of by natural right?
Does it mean feeling troubled and losing much sleep
Keeping up with the counting of sycophant sheep
Planning ways to do harm to me, and there’s no fight?
What I can do is write more, as it calms my heart.

Serenades Of Sedition

The Simmering Unrest

The Wild Western Empire has expanded beyond
What contiguous statehood cannot comprehend
As a song of seduction. Sedition is clear
In the eyes of sore losers who madly adhere
To the awfully bad actor who they must defend
While not caring the least bit that they have been conned.

As it was, and is now, and forever shall be
Blown along with the sagebrush and acid hot dust
Is the thickness of hatred in bitter belief
That if I’m not of their kind then I am a thief.
All that I have accomplished must fuel their disgust.
In the blindness, an enemy is made of me.

The song keeps getting louder and won’t go away.
The replay of post trauma I did not expect
To recur in my lifetime. Am I again wrong
For believing that blacks and whites can get along?
The drum beat is deep rooted and has the effect
Of a discordant weapon that savages play.

Warriors are not made or born. They just exist
As strategic abstractions that must take on form
When the duty to slaughter the other is called.
The grand party of outlaws, though they be outlawed,
Leave no peace for the restless amid the dust storm.
What I get from it is how to write with a fist.

Liquidity Of Duty

Now, Up To the System

Civil War is not ended, and it never will
Be completely resolved any frigging time soon.
Rude awakenings come to those who’ve been asleep
To the hatred that binds us. So, should my heart weep?
That ours is one proud nation I’d fiercely impugn.
Perfumed feces we echo. Our honor is nil.

 The big issue was slavery that time ago.
White folk wanted their niggers under their control.
History has been ruthless to their sentiment.
It is logical then to assume they resent
Anything suggesting everyone has a soul.
I had almost forgotten what I need to know.

So, this was the election. No blue tidal wave
Washing over the bitter-hearted bigotry
Did occur as expected by those who held hope
That we had evolved somewhat. All non-whites will cope
With a system imperfect. I personally
Am assured of its power to harm and enslave.

Doctor King had a dream once while quite wide awake.
Some folk will not forget that. It was the last straw.
Quite a chunk of this nation is racist indeed.
No longer I’ll pretend that I don’t have the need
To rely on raw instinct. I won’t hem and haw
To myself about ideals that are a heartache.

On All Levels

The Heart of the Measure

Simple horizontality can get perverse.
Logic dictates that from left to right we must read.
We are taught that perpendicular to the ground
Is the vertical axis where success is found
To be all that there is to life. Now what we need
Is a change in perception to undo the curse.

Remedies are like assholes in need of repair
From incessant abuse from all powers that be
For the same crap that evil uses to entice
Human souls into darkness all for the right price.
Healing can be accomplished. But can we agree
Not to disagree hatefully? Or is this rare?

Emotions become rattled. Each day passes by
With no change to the nightmare nor to the disease
Eating us as a nation. We’re at this again.
Civil war ideation among deranged men
Is a resident terror that everyone sees
As a recurring pattern. The question is, Why?

But the answer is deeper. We have not the tools
For the faulty machinery between our ears
And throughout our brief history – Even before…
Who knows when the shit started? Need we go to war
And just get it all over with? It is our fears
That perpetuate evil. Indeed we are fools.

Smoke And Mirrors

The Never Ending Illusion

Need one go to the devil or just sit in place
And observe what is happening on some device?
Satan has made his presence for those who believe
That personified evil will grant no reprieve
From the ongoing nightmare. It doesn’t think twice
All at once of supremacy for the white race.

Not perceived in the darkness and stale, misty haze
Is a stage even blacker. The psychic ink hole
Draws those near it into it. Their certain demise
Comes to everyone else but them not a surprise.
What is feared may be known is the hate in its soul
As expressed through its armies prepared for ‘last days.’

We can see not the drama in true light of day.
Everything made mysterious, all that is shown
Is appended illusion to make the shell game
Just a bit more spectacular – and there’s no shame.
Those who dare rewrite history, let it be known
That you, as the minority, won’t get your way.

Naïve are not the hated who manage their fear
On a day-to-day basis. The madness may come
Unexpectedly swiftly. My life is worth less
Since this demon stole office. I can’t second guess
What the wild have conspired by the beat of his drum.
Will I be any safer when this stage is clear?

Petulant Of Persona

Fire Starter

Easily there is conflict to find everywhere.
For the one who is looking, potential is ripe
For creating a firestorm so hate can be heard
And felt deep in the soul. When emotions are stirred
By complex fabrications and poorly brewed hype
Then the crowd agitated acts out in despair.

Everyone with an ego, in one of two ways
It can be used – in fear, or in doing some good.
It is by choice we each find a path to engage.
Acrid actors are destined to burn down the stage
In irrational outrage. Like dry kindling wood
Those who choose to burn hot will set themselves ablaze.

Idleness fuels distractions of heated content.
Reinforcing delusion delights by the day
And by night, holy terror is set to be laid.
Under cover of darkness hate crime will be paid
To unfortunate ones who they’ve deemed as their prey.
There’s no getting through to those who live to foment.

What they do in their day jobs is just a backdrop
And a means of survival… not quite a career.
Simple minds, meager lifestyles, and bigotry are
Attributes of the ones who rip open the scar
With an insane agenda to elevate fear
To a thing to be proud of. How soon will it stop?

Persuasive Forces

The Poison Of Gossip

Clues are ripe for the picking effortlessly so
One need not even reach. They just find their right place
In the frail mental basket that leaks in the sea
Of the fertile subconscious half full of spilt tea.
The alarm must be sounded to wake up our race
Toward the war of extinction. Here’s what you must know:

Conquerors of the world all throughout history
(…The one white men are used to) had pearly white skin.
Therefore we are superior and we should rule.
May all others beneath us become our footstool.
We know killing off niggers is no mortal sin
And when we’re all united, most lethal we’ll be.

Getting to the false bottom in any dark well
Must be done in pure blindness. The blackness obscures
Bits of truth that may be caught adrift in the wake
Of the current of restlessness. What is at stake
Is our mistake supremacy. Hatred ensures
That we’re not of the kind to do lynchings and tell.

The profoundly effective ideology
Doesn’t have all that much to cause harm on its own.
What it takes is repeating and keep it hot.
Tension must not die out ‘til we get what we ought.
While embroiled in the struggle, you are not alone.
All we morbid souls earthbound were meant to agree.

Uncomfortable Questions

Reactive Thinking

When a black man is shot seven times in the back
Is it only good luck for the bigoted ones?
Is collateral benefit granted also
To the yet uninfected who witness a show
Of extreme force unwarranted? Have police guns
Replaced nooses in essence as legal attack?

Bias is a continuum. Slow in its growth
Over decades of nurturing, what is believed
Is what’s impressed upon us from those we’re around.
Folks don’t just up and act out. We tend to expound
On our internal programming. What is perceived
Is too much for the shrunken heart. Hate becomes oath.

How greater is reality over the tales
Interwoven in consciousness carelessly led
Into playing it small in the ultimate game?
Questions to many answers befall us in shame.
Ignorance is pandemic in that it’s widespread.
Is it hard to predict which allegiance prevails?

By which part of the problem do I feel enslaved
As I watch others like me because of my race
Become victims of violence from angry men?
What’s been ripped from my heart, can I have it again?
There are so many questions others will not face
Nor myself anymore lest I’m rendered depraved.

Introduction To The Noose

Integral Control of the Soul

Thirteen cards has a quarter deck made of four suits.
Diamonds, spades, hearts, and clubs form a motley wardrobe
That will integrate hate into our poker game.
Straighter faces, though evil, appear to be tame.
History of our ugliness we fear to probe.
We now see reemergence of our founding roots.

Two of four suits are black, and the others are red.
Private checkerboard patterns persist in our minds
Through the heart’s misperception of how things should be.
Violent is the behavior of those who aren’t free
From their own inner demons and hurts of all kinds.
One who thinks of the noose wishes some black one dead.

Every suit has its ‘face’ cards. The ones at the top
Of societal structure take pride in great wealth
While the numbered remainder remain unfulfilled
And the worst in the deck are the faceless unskilled
Who will die before others because of ill health.
Money placates the pain, but it can’t make it stop.

Thirteen colonies became the United States.
Numbers are of significance when hands are dealt
In the dark of deception to keep others bound
By the systems of terror. How bitter the sound
Of the loud mental chanting that hits below belt.
Every nation shows off through the people it hates.

Maximum Restraint

Imprisonment Of The Soul

When I was in the navy a colleague of mine
Said there would be a race war. I blew the man off.
Since I had to work with him each and every day
He’d reiterate hatred the pure racist way.
His intent, although clear, only caused me to scoff
Though I couldn’t take his sentiment as benign.

Did I need him to tell me some decades ago
Of volcanic activity deep in the earth
That will one day erupt into fervent bloodshed?
I’m aware there are those who wish all niggers dead.
But I wasn’t taught any of this since my birth
From my down to earth family. Shouldn’t it show?

I’ll avoid confrontation. My life is at stake.
My restraint must be maximum so I’ll survive
Both the prelude to warfare and tragic outcome.
White supremacists will go on beating their drum
To stir up the excitement. While I am alive
I’ll keep doing what I’m doing with no heartache.

All I’ll use is my voice. It’s enough to withstand
Every manner of ordnance the era calls for.
There are those who, much younger, still have a good fight.
They may march to the front line and do what is right.
Is there nothing in warfare that we can abhor?
If there’s not then predictions will proceed as planned.

Going Fishing

Open Season

‘Going Fishing,’ you call it? Why cop the lame code?
‘Nigger Hunting’ is factual… Maybe that’s it.
Speaking truth is beneath you. As predators go,
You take cues from a master who puts on a show
Tailor suited to reignite dormant bullshit.
I don’t want your white bitches nor dicks they done blowed!

You ingest paranoia. Your souls are consumed
By your rabid nightmare that your women we want.
We don’t think like you do nor do we feel compelled
To get that close to trouble when hatred is smelled
At the cusp of encounter. What trash would you flaunt
For your foul smelling caper profusely perfumed?

Take your sick vacant minds and fulfill them with space
So at least there is something to pacify you.
To this world you’re a danger – not only black lives.
We all came from the dark land. Your madness derives
From your factual science. So what will you do?
Lousy bait is your problem. You’re in a tough race.

Restore And Rejuvenate

Facing Familiarity

As without, so within; as above, so below.
If there’s turmoil identified is it in me?
Do the streets in my vision see fire and brimstone?
Is there hatred outside me, or is it my own?
Thank God I have no TV yet trouble I see
Way more than what is needed but less than I know.

Things that are most familiar and closest at hand,
Like the people I know and love, give me some peace.
I’ll depend on relationships and make them strong.
To ourselves and to everyone we all belong.
No whitewash on a brick wall can offer release
Of the deep rooted tension I can’t understand.

My instincts are creative for bad or for good.
I alone get to choose which one that it will be.
There’s no heat in the moment nor is there a chill.
How one interacts socially is by free will.
Were we made and put down here to all disagree?
It makes no sense to heart nor mind. Who says it should?

We treat animals badly. Perhaps it starts there.
Being harmful to people then isn’t too far
From the general premise that some are not worth
A good place in society or on the earth.
Who would dare to conclude we know not who we are?
What besides our aggression can we hope to share?

We’ll achieve restoration. Some time it will take
For the soul’s evolution and replenishment
Of the spirit communal. We can’t get along
As long as we make certain groups out to be wrong
Due to race, creed, or class. We compel our descent
As one treacherous species. When will we awake?

Emotional Stamina

Well-Prepared For The Worst

Those who find me “disturbing” are lily white trash
And among them are token specks playing the roles
Of Jemimas and Sambos with power to scorn.
Simply I detest bullshit from those who were born
To excrete through their fake smiles their niggardly souls.
All must know that in due time all flesh turns to ash.

 Send your pigs to harass me, you dumb nigger bitch?
You belong in some hell pit, and that’s where you are.
My words speak with aggression. That won’t go away.
This black bear won’t attack you. I’d hope that your day
Burns a hole through your cheapness. Yes you left a scar
That I seem to be handling as if there’s no glitch.

Since hate Is on the menu. I will take a bite.
It is good for digesting feces of intent.
It invigorates clarity and common sense.
What I do with my blackness requires no defense.
I won’t go to a church to bow down and repent.
I don’t need a white preacher. I do need to fight!

Tragic lessons in mockery we all shall learn.
All the teachers among us pretending to care
And who talk down to me as if I were a child
Or some unsheltered animal snatched from the wild
I Do wish ill upon you. Don’t give me that stare
That says I’ve not the right to wish that you would burn.

I remain out of trouble. My life will be spared
Even though I’m a black man in turbulent times.
Taken off the back burner and back to the streets
Hatred is reignited. My hated heart beats
To abolish “correctness” within social crimes.
For conniving white faces I am well prepared.

Do Nothing!

Things Work Out The Way They Should

Take It Easy! Do Nothing! What more could go wrong?
And it’s all a façade anyway. Can’t you see?
There are no flames around you. No devils appear
To abuse and torment you. So why would you fear?
Hell is almost like heaven. Where else could you be?
We adore the orange Satan and sing but his song.

Don’t behave in a manner that shows you’re uptight
Unless you have the right cause and weapon in hand
To support our dear godhead. We worship him so.
Every word that he speaks is the truth we should know.
Nothing else shall be listened to by his command.
We’ve returned to a leader who beams pearly white.

He is our lord and savior. The worst of our breed
Is far better than the best that others produce.
Keep that firm in your mindset – that is if you’re white.
Otherwise, it’s a warning. We’re do for a fight
To the death of our souls. May our hatred run loose.
Yet, for now, we may be forced to keep it low-keyed.

The Struggle

Stormy Encounters

Interacting with others… Sometimes it’s a bear
To maintain good composure. Things get out of hand
And straight into ferociousness in word and deed.
Anger does have its purpose. The demon is freed
In the hope that the other will well understand
That when strict lines are crossed others then should beware.

The mind may be more active with hostile intent
When two wills come emergent in heated debate.
Animals of one species are just like the rest.
When prepared for a challenge, we’re put to the test.
But is there a derivative reason for hate
Among human existence? What feeds our dissent?

In these times there are lynchings. The noose has evolved.
The mindset of the niggard is still much the same
As it was in the good days. Some folk need an edge.
Black men are still in season as white racists pledge
That there will be no struggle. They will cheat the game.
In the long run our issues are damned to be solved.

Human Whisperer

Connecting With the Animal

‘Sympathy for the Nigger’ would make a great song
But alas, I’m no rolling stone, damn it to hell!
Are some akin to animals? Maybe to some.
But we have our humanity to overcome.
We can glamorize hatred. When cast as a spell
It can work like the devil. Its power is strong.

Do the animal spirits play roles in our lives?
Are indigenous cultures connected in ways
That the rest cannot fathom? And if it is true
Should the rest be concerned with what these folk can do?
At one time, humans needed that, but not these days.
Our technology links us. Our culture survives.

An elite occultism evolves among us
Nowadays. It’s inevitable that it will
Culminate in a crisis. Another world war
Would be one for the animals as they keep score
In this game humans play with. Our reasons to kill
Are the demons we conjure. Do this we discuss?

Today, we are not heavyweights at occult arts.
Even back then, enormous danger was involved.
Would communing with animals do us much good?
Can we live as one species as all species should?
Could this be the one issue that ne’er gets resolved?
We could want to be human. That’s where our life starts.

That Stubborn Nigger Stain…!

Emergency!

Should one break the glass ceiling in emergent times
Or could making it niggerproof be the best call?
I can’t find a damned thing to get rid of the stain.
If I had the right product, I would not complain.
White blood is far superior. We must stand tall.
Whites and colored piles require separate enzymes.

Nine-one-one operator, I am in distress
…Else I wouldn’t be calling in this state of mind.
What’s got hold of my spirit is grown into me
Through the nature of nurture. How proud can I be
If I fear the extinction of all of my kind?
Does my logic suggest that my mind is a mess?

This damned stain in my fabric… I can’t get it out!
There are few advertisements blatantly engaged
In supporting pure whiteness. Where is that supply?
Hatred needs resolution. That you can’t deny.
If I let the inferior get me enraged
I’ll advance my own cleansing while nestled in doubt.

Darkie Season

Clear and Present Emergency

Background checks do save lives. Moscow Bitch must agree.
That’s why he won’t allow them. The breeders will breed.
And we can’t let that happen. Soon this nation will
Be infested with colored folk. White folk must kill
To prevent the invasion. The way to succeed
Is by bribing the senate, and most thoroughly.

Armies need army weapons. They do the most harm
In a series of instants, so let them be sold.
If I were president, I would give them away.
My elite subcommanders would do what I say.
Is it true that a massacre can be controlled
By the use of one’s rhetoric and true alarm?

I must look at my hatred. Our teacher-in-chief,
Knowing not that he’s doing so, offers the hope
That I don’t focus on him. He is but the sore
Of a wound suffered long ago. Never before
Have I re-felt such venom because of this dope.
This remains a hard lesson. Am I due relief?

No such thing will I know of unless there’s a change
In my way of perceiving all that must take place
As a function of being in this human form.
I perceive human hatred a recurrent storm.
Those who cannot believe that we’re all of one race
Are a lesson in my life, although that sounds strange.

They Do Think We’re All Stupid!

Conflagration of Troubled Leadership

The disease of entitlement has become vogue.
White men stuffed in silk jackets must each wear a noose.
Why this is so is custom and much too absurd,
So, one wouldn’t be wise taking them at their word.
Slavery is professional as is abuse.
There’s a reason our government has become rogue.

We elected Obama. That was the last straw.
Not just once, but twice, we went and did the wrong thing.
Now, one hell of a backlash from nigger ascent
Reminds all that the fruits of our nation were meant
For the few white and wealthy. What freedom will ring
Is America ‘great’ again made into law.

They said, “Screw it! The People don’t know what they want.
They make foolish decisions. It’s now up to us
To return us to sanity and the white way.
We declare infiltration has seen its last day.”
One dose of the right nigger scares whites treasonous.

So, who’s up for the running? Who’s our confidant?

Oil and Water

TheMagicRealist.com

Oil and Water don’t mix well. What else should I know?
North and South never ended their all out race war?
Jews and Arabs will always be blood enemies?
Blacks and Whites can’t be equal? That’s not how God sees?
I guest star in a rerun. I’ve been here before.
I am black, and I know it. Gosh! Who tells me so?

Is it you who reminds me, Miss Trash, on your rant?
It’s not looks… rather actions that define a man
Or a woman. One could ask if you’re either one.
A sick child will spew rancor and do it for fun.
If you could have a TV show based on the klan,
You might want not a black boss. I’d think just a scant.

So, a popular loud mouth with off-the-wall views
About just about everything barring the dark,
Crafts a base learning moment. I’m smack back in school.
You ignored the one voice that plead, “Shut your mouth, fool!”
With your teaching credential, you have made your mark.
It’s a shame that the others must now pay your dues.