Stoning Red Walls White

This one needs a disclaimer. While attending Oakland University I participated in poetry groups and "poetry slam" sessions. One day I met a very poor and angry student from Detroit who pulled me aside and asked if I would attempt to write something that gave him voice. He said that the current rap music that he liked said nothing of value and wondered if I'd be willing to bend my ear and lend my voice to his opinions since he believed I could write out his own opinions better than he ever could. So he told me his story and the following is the result:  (All words are original and mine)

This was eventually recited by me in front of everyone attending O.U.'s Poetry Slam. It is written in its current form in order to recite it correctly. It moves fast.

 

Stoning Red Walls White

 

You are not my voice. You don’t represent my choice.

You are far from the perspective of the moved

Only antiquated/ outdated posing a need to be removed.

By the time change finally comes from that façade of whitewalls

What good used to be in you, by the time it comes out

Is nothing but old battles whose soldiers are now on new routes.

 

The voice of reality is sneered at by a mentality

That would rather keep things the same

As they struggle for fame and blame

Others who are just like them

While not knowing they perpetuate the stem

Of our problems and battles our headaches as they channel

The money that segregates the minority of men who are often better than them

But who are never given the chance to be heard, seen, or led

 

Word on the street, there is a movement followed by millions of feet

Stepping with open eyes, fully realizing the power that lies

In their hands and has always been welling inside

And it’s out along with the multitude of lies

And now we are going to begin to belie

The power that strains us

The lives that seek to maintain this

Now the truth has hit us and we’re not going to shake this

We are a force that is sick

Of political tricks

And our voices are sticks

And we are going to whip

The life back into a nation that’s lost

Its focus/ concentrating

On their own self made dilemmas

Self deceiving agendas

If we will not stand by and watch our own children cry

How do we watch with dry eyes/ other children/ other nations die?

What/ for the promise that’s realized in our hoods, our streets, our lives?

 

Their grip on the cost of the lives that are tossed

Away as they prey on the needs we display

On the posters, the slogans, commercials they’re boasting

For fear that we’ll hear the solutions they’re toasting

With bigots and fakers and policy makers

That drink to our problems while purporting to solve them

Is as weak as their promise as their “equality” robs us

Of all ambition to change ‘em/ as those on top need a bottom

But we shirk from your lies/ we will now only cry

Not to you/ to ourselves/ hoping the institution will die

To enact the change that you’d rather shelf

We display our rage cause you ain’t no (F’n) help

Just statistics, ballistics of a weapon that shames

The democracy it says it maintains

As it points a weapon against

 Those it purports to save.

 

If war ain’t the answer for our streets and our blocks

How can it be one for the whole nation/ just (F’n) stop

 

They pretend to be aware

As they always make an effort to remain the same

Big Lugs nam’n us thugs while they perfect the game

 

Their choices

Pernicious, malicious, back stabbing and vicious

While idealist dreamers

Stock the coffins with streamers

Of red/ white/ and blue

‘Cause they still think it’s true

That it cares

The institution that’s placed bodies there

Thinks it’s fair

To not share in the burden troops bare

Jokers and clowns stacking a deck that is bound

To their own fk’n failure

And the troops got to share it

What a shame/ the change

That happens to those

That were once sent to expose

The lies now they unfold

As they speak their hearts close

And their minds follow suit

Like a cheap computer that just won’t compute

We need to smash it and bash it

And throw it away

And replace it with ourselves

So that our voices will sway

 

Those who live like they above us

Strangling us with the same hands that hug us

Making body counts larger than their IQ

While shaping history with the views of the few

Ignoring all voices they can possibly suppress

Then getting angry with those who act like they’re upset

 

Are the people that sheep’ll run to follow

As they swallow whether tea spoon or big gulps of borrow

They sell their souls for possessions they lose

Giving over control/ their behavior excused

By the same makers of commercials that only give gain

To the makers of the products that shame/ kill for/ sustain

The perpetual cycle of fistfuls of dough/blow/ and show

For those same people that stone red walls white and they know

That it grows/ large enough to make us think we can’t change it

But it all comes down to solidarity/ times are calling for us to bring it

The movements waiting for you/ it’s time to begin

We can huff and puff and blow that Whitehouse in

 

Time to stop the same arms that choose to build empire with blood

And attempt to fix our economies with cheaper labor and guns

Instead of education that would increase the safety of our streets

They give whatever maintains ‘n sustains the power of the elites

 

We are aware of those Whitehouse walls

That seek to block our voices from your off limit halls

In your courtrooms/ your ballrooms

While assistants assist in your bedrooms

While some need bread you’re receiving head

And as you gush/ I hope you blush

Cause that same red/ the color of your power

Will see you dead

As you yourself flower into tumbling towers

There will be no remorse as the innocent take power

Away from you and all like you

You can all rot in hell if it’d (f'n) take you

 

As we look for our prophet

You seek only what you can profit

By anything resembling a cure

For harsh streets/ vulgar beats/ as long as you get another tour

In that Whitehouse/ that stained blouse/ switching hands/ suppressing righteous shouts

As it clouts and struts about

Principles that only the rich see

As the poor lower class victims be

Straining their necks and lives pursuing to see

And only get bat beat/ tazered treats/ hard lives these principles keep

Time for less change and more revolution

Time to hit our marks/ begin the execution

 

 The gentleman who inspired me to write this ended up liking it so much he wanted me to recite it in front of his friends. On a street corner in the middle of an uncomfortable neighborhood in Detroit in front of about 20 people, I recited this. I was careful to tell them that there was a lot of "metaphor" and "symbolism" in it and that I didn't condone violence. (They just smiled and afterward cheered)

 

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Comments

[Bryan Scott Thomas]

Thank you very much Kimberly. I appreciate the feedback. :)

[Titikim31]

This was very poerful to read as I read it I could picture everything that you wrote down as if it was a short film. You do great work, I'm proud to know you!