While I might or might not one day reach the pinnacle of poetic stylings such as MutaBaruka, who penned the original Dis Poem, I find that this is the only way I can express myself to today.
________________________________
Dis Poem
by
JEL
Dis poem will not bring Neda back
Dis poem will not wipe away the tears shed for the fallen
the calling the struggle for freedom
Dis poem rhymes in my soul shouts in my heart and clenches my fist
Dis poem will not make the world a better place
Take two of Dis Poem and call me in the morning
Cure my heartbreak with Dis Poem
Make me forget
Dis Poem will make me remember what we all need to remember
I want to hug Dis Poem because I am so lucky so lucky
Dis Poem is tinted green
Dis Poem will blur in front of my eyes as I write
Dis Poem
What I can I do where are we going
The fate of the world does not hang on the words of
Dis Poem
I will remember King and Tubman and Angelou and
The color purple when I walk in the desert thinking about
Dis Poem
Dis Poem will bring hope to my despair as I sit here
in my chair and compare
Today with tomorrow and all of our yesterdays
The future is clear when you read Dis Poem
Dis Poem pours from my fingers shaking
keyboard making my heart trembling
Society trembles on the cliff’s edge smashing
Doing what we do but we’ve done it before
and Dis Poem turns out the light
Dis Poem turns inside out
Dis Poem irritates me
Dis Poem is the reflection
Dis Poem is the beginning
Dis Poem will not end
To understand Dis Poem you must know everything
and feel how you feel when you read Dis Poem
Wisdom flies from our place and in its place we find
we have learned nothing and everything
I hate Dis Poem
I love my world
Dis Poem itches on my skin and peels back my spirit
Dis Poem wraps me up like a blanket
my comfort on the skin of this planet
depends on the cost of a three thousand dollar bullet
Dis Poem is priceless
Dis Poem will not be read at the special hearings
Dis Poem will not be printed on paper
Dis Poem finds me wondering if I feel better or worse
after writing
Dis Poem
___________________
Will comment on subjects brought up in this poem, as I tackle them during my meditations…
The 3,000 bullet. You had to pay the 3K for the bullet used to shoot your loved one, before the government would release their body to you for burial.
Yes that was a nice lil shenanigan goin on in Iran during the protests.
I always thought it should be the other way around. I mean each bullet should cost 3K or so. Would make you think twice before purchacing a gun and/or hopefully before pulling the trigger in the first place.
Since apparently the going rate for a human life is three thousand dollars
*sighs*