My BLM year in Review 2022
The Originalist — A Poetic Divide
[For some inexplicable reason, this year in review came out in poetic voice, perhaps to trying to engage in underlying truths from studying our shared history through the lens of the BLM and the opposing anger of supremacy.]
I’m the buried rage of America’s original intent. That Intent of violent Revolution that sprang up from a well of anger is gone, quietly snuffed out in a suffused slumber lush with the money drug. You asked me why I’m angry. I’m tired of being the white machine, churning out of violence for the entertainment of others. I can sing landscapes of illusions to manage the slow burning sadness of other races.
It’s a mistake we all made. Ending our resolve to change through loud and noisy action when silent verbs can carry more weight. But newly risen, I’m not a cheap rebellion but a steady stream of unfettered agitation seeking to shake up this long-suffering nation.
If you bend in and listen closer, you can hear me underneath the children’s song of close diversity as the black breath under the voices of all the tired and repressed:
I shoulder on in dignity in a hard tolerance of educated change where my crafted machine of golden phrases tumbles out in chains of brilliance unrehearsed only to stepped on and battered by the inevitable beating of a…
