Articles

A Collection of Poems

Rage

Do you ever feel rage?
A subtle feeling you can’t quite explain
With thoughts you just can’t get out your brain
Where it feels like maybe you’ve gone insane

Can you feel this rage?
Trapped in this cage
A slave to a wage
Killin ourselves just to maintain

Heart pounding in my chest
Like drums bursting through my breast
Rage consuming all my breath
Washing over every piece of me until nothing left

Cant you feel this rage?
Rising from our ancestors who were enslaved
Ripped for the shores of The Continent & transported in chains
Whipped our bodies but taught to never let them take our brains

Don’t you feel the rage?
Deep inside your soul’s frame
The one you must maintain to even stay sane
To rebuke these devils & remember our name

Revolutionary, Emancipator, Liberator

The Invisible Hand 

The Invisible Hand of the man

of big brother, the kkkops & the kkklan

The Invisible Hand always coordinating a plan

To neutralize and eliminate any of us that take a stand

Always around, always attacking to those who can see

Helicopters over homes, pig-monitored devices in the land of the free

How can this be? How can this be?

Well you see, amerikkka is the land of the thief

The Invisible Hand controlling the COINTELPRO war tactics meant to silence

Constantly propagandizing our genocide to desensitize us from the violence

Defiance to the alliance of these tyrants is the ancestors’ guidance

Centuries of holocaust and yet they call our resistance “riots”

The Invisible Hand of the man

of big brother, the kkkops & the kkklan

The Invisible Hand seeks to terrorize but I aint never ran

The Invisible Hand can’t comprehend the power of the New-Afrikan man

Cradle 2 The Grave

From the cradle 2 the grave, Black babies never grow old

Murdered by the pigs, thrown to the systems or left outside in the cold

amerikkka makes sure from the cradle 2 the grave, Black babies never grow old 

From the cradle 2 the grave, Black folx never grow old

Murdered by the pigs, captured by the systems or left outside in the cold 

amerikkka makes sure from the cradle 2 the grave, Black folx never grow old 

From the cradle 2 the grave, we never grow old

Gone before we are old enough to see our brightest futures unfold

Gone before we have grown old enough to share the wisdom we wish we were told

From the cradle 2 the grave, we never grow old 

Patrolled to by those who uphold the genocidal control

From the cradle 2 the grave, We never grow old, but I pray you break the mold

From the cradle 2 the grave, I pray you never fold

From the cradle 2 the grave , I pray you protect your soul

From the cradle 2 the grave, remember your life is worth more than gold

By, Jordan McGowan, M.Ed

About Community Movement Builders (158 Articles)
Community Movement Builders (CMB) is a member-based collective of black people dedicated to being a force for creating sustainable self-determining communities through cooperative economic advancement and collective community organizing. Our mission is rooted in Black love and equity. Grassroots Thinking is our newsletter/community blog about our work and movement activity

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