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8 Jul

Black Lives Matter: No “Good”, Just Mournin’

Dont Shoot I couldn’t go. I just couldn’t… not under these pretenses. Not in this condition. Not after this level of blatant betrayal and lack of regard.  I couldn’t go. Besides, I won’t make it there anyway. And no, I didn’t oversleep. My alarm clock didn’t fail me, if anything I failed it. My conscious spirit kept my mind wondering, and my weeping heart and soul sobbing. I knew better than to lie down, as I’m far too keen on how frequent us blacks drown in pools… I just know’d better than lying down. For lying down would be suicide, I’d drown wide awake in my own pool of tears.  The tears I shed from night to morning were beyond “two tears and a bucket” AND the issue at hand is far too penetrating for an all too common “FUCK IT!” My preconceived notion has been but a dream. Ain’t no way we free.  Not from the wickedness that my eyes can see. We just watched our brothers DIE.



I don’t know no GOOD. All I know is mournin’

I knew I wouldn’t make it, I knew’d it.  “Making it” requires crossed T’s and dotted I’s. I can’t be neutral and I won’t sit quiet. I’d run through the halls screamin’ “what about our #BLACKLIVES? When will folks take action to exterminate these hateful crimes. How many have to be murdered at the hands of public servants? Quit sitting ’round here actin’ like you ain’t noticed.

“In the end we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends

FRIEND, aren’t you devastated? Aren’t you weeping and heartbroken?  Didn’t you see these men DIE.  Did you lay restless in your bed, crying for the souls of the men and women who were lost? The children who were left fatherless? Mournin’ for those who lost loved ones, empathizing with them. Feeling compassion for them. Praying and interceding for them.  Will you use your voice? Will you rally and petition for change? Will you look injustice in the face and acknowledge it for what it is?


What happened to all that fist pumping and unity you displayed when you were on the frontline talmbout how Bey is BAE? You were so so eager to get in formation

You sung…

Freedom! Freedom! I can’t move
Freedom, cut me loose!
Freedom! Freedom! Where are you?”

I mean you were singing your ass off! You were one with us and we were one with you.

But today you sit in silence. I guess you have a right to choose


“The power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint.

I wonder what it must feel like–Freedom that is.

Sisters and brothers, we must obtain true liberty


“The state of being free within society from oppressive restrictions imposed by authority on one’s way of life, behavior, or political views.”

Meaning, free to sell cd’s in front of a neighborhood convenient store without being gunned down. IN COLD BLOOD.  No explanation of rights, no introduction or show of compassion or concern, no cause. Just tackled, restrained, and gunned down in violence.

They speak of the effects of Terror. About ISIS. About FEAR. We are charged with facing our fears and terror everyday. Every. Single. Day. Our sons can’t walk through their own neighborhoods without being gunned down for carrying skittles and wearing a hoodie (in the rain). We have not been liberated. We get shot down for reaching for our wallets, right here in AMERIKKKA. We’ve paid for our freedom and liberty, by the blood of our ancestors. Yet we’re still protesting in the streets. Fighting for justice. How far will we propel  if it’s JUST US.

When did asking a question become classification of resistance…

What did I do? Why are you harassing me. Why are you forcefully tackling me to the ground. Why are you trying to restrain me? Why? Why did you shoot me in cold blood? Why do I have to keep my hands up, why? He’s dying, my loved one is dying and your only concern is that I keep my hands up. Why can’t I console him. Why can’t I. Why?  Why do you feel so threatened?

These are all legitimate questions… but yet they shame, taunt and ridicule us for asking.

Is it my skin? Is it?

What about Pulse, friend?  Everyone had an opinion. Everyone had a voice. The city was strong and intolerant, we united as one because innocent human beings were gunned down. This was for sure a tragedy. WE all sang and cried TOGETHER

ALL OF US. Everyone had a hashtag to give, and a statement to make. I saw windows filled with rainbows, and timelines swarming with colorful hearts that represented love and compassion, for all mankind. But when a black man is slain on your timeline what do you do?

You just scroll on by?

tis just another day| living in the hood| just another day around the way?

There are people lying dead in pools of blood

Only thing you question is the legality of the CD’s, and if he actually “reached”?


I guess silence is your way of exercising your “Freedom” tho

I ain’t mad at cha

The revolution will not be televised they said.

Clearly, they’ve replaced t.v’s with timelines, its all part of their new infrastructure for genocide

The first stage? Desensitize.

Is it working? How do you feel friend? Innocent black men were murdered at the hands of law enforcement. PAID PUBLIC SERVANTS, not common criminals. But by men who took an oath to serve and protect ALL. So my question to you is…

Is it still “Good” or are you just “Mournin'”?






  • Treka L. House

    Damn! This post is everything. As a black woman, mother, wife, sister, aunt, cousin, niece and friend; I feel tortured. I’m wallowing in concern for my family and friends, wondering if we’ll ever be safe. Prayerful that my children will be shielded from the ugliness consuming the world we now live in. We are so undeserving of such misfortune, because of our skin, intelligence, culture and abilities; which makes others question their shortcomings and inadequacies.

    This tear drenched post is beautifully necessary. Though it’s sad that it’s necessary.

    07.08.16 at 1:51 pm Reply

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