Re-presenting “The Art Inside”, a 2016 mashup of multiple poems that expressed a series of truths for your favorite bald poet. It’s 5 minutes long, but I think it’s worth it.
Tag Archives: Raw
No More Hand Me Downs
this weight is not mine
i won’t wear it
you can keep it for yourself
since you want to be down
this weight is not mine
i won’t wear it
don’t care how stylish it is
don’t matter how fine an antique–
don’t nothing that heavy belong to me
keep it for yourself
if you want to be down
-Rahk.
Rather Than Silence
I’d rather you scream
So long as your scream
Contains the reason
Why your I love you hides behind your teeth
I’d rather you cuss
And belittle my concerns
So long as I know what it is
I have done to hold your I love you hostage
I’d rather you sob
Through confessions of doubt
So long as I bear witness to the certainty of your will
I’d rather yell
I’d rather fuss
I’d rather leave
Than smear silence
In your open wounds
~Rahk.
Mending
Learned at an early age
that words carry weight
only broken bone I’ve had
is being called a fag one time
too many
and there aint no cast
for that kind of injury.
Can’t set spirit the
way you set bone.
They don’t quite mend the same
but no surprise they don’t
quite bend the same either.
With a Note
In 2012, all I had of yours:
a whisper in the dark
a hug behind closed curtains
the questions you left me with.
They belonged to you:
That fitted-cap whisper
That capricious hug
That polluted reality.
I never wanted your things—
You gave me:
mixed whispers,
closed-curtained embraces,
subconscious kisses,
Now in broad daylight,
I lay them on your back porch.
I deserved more than your darkness.
-Rahk
Rahk on the Jussie Smollet “Case”
As I wind down from a stressful yet productive week, I began typing the following Facebook status:
I know I am not the only one who is literally befuddled by this Smollet vs MAGA vs Chicago vs Smollet “case”. Like I truly cannot tell you how many times conversations about it result in “…WTF?!” On all sides! Whether I am talking to friends or coworkers or passersby, we just end up exasperated because we fight negativity and distrust every day. We fight the fear that someone will mean us, or someone we love, harm for one reason or another. We fight to support those experiencing hardship publically, even if it’s by sharing a Facebook post. We fight distrust and the very real possibility that there are those who not only conspire against us, but conspire to slay us (both literally and figuratively) for something as harmless as our skin color, or presumptions about our lifestyles because we choose freedom instead of bondage. We choose freedom instead of fear.
It is here that I paused and recognized that this would be the more appropriate medium to manage my anxiety. I will attempt to be as concise and clear as possible, but I make no guarantees. If you have been following the story, or just coasting on any social media platform, you will already know that Jussie Smollet’s 16 or so felony charges have been dropped. DROPPED. All of them. According to trusted news sources like CNN, Fox, and NBC, the “victim”-turned-“villain” and star of Fox’s Empire, Smollet, walked away by forfeiting a $10,000 bond to the City of Chicago and a couple days community service. Why? How? What happened to all the evidence that inspired the shift from investigating a hate crime to investigating the orchestrator of a staged hate crime all to allegedly (you guessed it) get more money.
Yall, I am just stumped. And frustrated. I’m confused. I’m angry. I’m not convinced that Smollet is, in fact, the victim of a hate crime. At the same time, due to the most recent outcome, I’m not convinced that he’s guilty of all 16 felony charges. And now, by some conspiratorial miracle, there will not be a trial. There is merely dismissal of the charges against Smollet. Then, perhaps because I am a Cancer, or maybe due to possessing a contemplative nature in general, tons of questions bounce around my skull such as:
- But why would an innocent man (who is a known activist and community voice, who was assaulted by MAGA zealots, who was also accused of staging his own hate-inspired assault) accept so much unjust loss: a $10,000 loss, the loss of time, opportunities, credibility, TRUTH, etc.?
- But why would the Chicago Police Department conspire against Jussie smollet?
- But what about the two African brothers who said they were paid to assault Jussie and say those divisive statements?
- But why would any of these people lie with so much at stake?
- But where is this “Court of Opinion” located and how can I be a judge?
- But when did I get so invested in this case and why am I so angry with Jussie?
- Am I being judgmental despite my monumental efforts?
- Who is the victim here? Is it Jussie? Is it Chicago? Is it Black and Gay America? Is it the present and future victims who will face skepticism when they come forth?
I could just go on and on and– you get the idea. Honestly, I’m almost certain I’d have to write a book to thoroughly articulate this swirling eddy of confusion and hope and frustration. Here, I end where I began: I know I cannot be the only one who is genuinely befuddled and utterly conflicted by this Smollet vs MAGA vs Chicago vs Smollet “case”!
Please forgive any typos. I do not have the energy to thoroughly proofread right now. I know, I know– no cookie for me. I don’t need that cookie tonight anyway (I ate too many yesterday, shhh!).
The Statement Jussie Smollet Did Not Make
Jussie:
I am here, asserting my innocence
The same way my attackers demonstrated that
my black gay life does not matter
That my black
And my gay
Should be washed away in a violent baptism
I am here, before you, my truth having been arrested
But I will not remain silent
For as I bled, as I became intimate
with the state of this union,
My name and my story
continued to be brutalized
on a cold night in Chicago
It is only by God that I am here
So I am here
Before your flashing lights
And heavy glares
Carrying the bloody brown stains
of my public dragging
The hooping and hollering of sirens
mocking my wounds, deeming them self-inflicted
as their ropes scarred my wrists
Because I am Black. Because I am unafraid to love.
Because I am not a nigger to be hung as the birds tweet
about my smell
Because I am not a faggot to be gagged and
consumed by your self-righteous fire
Because I am here
Standing before you
Twice a victim
Twice a survivor
And though it is my right,
I will not remain silent
-Rahk (on the Jussie Smollet disposition)
Rahk on Jussie Smollet Allegations
if it is true
an old rope chokes the American Flag
once again
Free bodies travel fearfully underground
once again
if it is true
Ida’s tenacity has pounded on locked doors
once again
Malcolm’s scowl has deepened in revolution
once again
Americans hang their heads
and clutch their hopes like holy bibles
once again
once again
Harriet, shotgun at the ready,
reminds her people:
“The way to freedom is Northward.
We’ve passed too many Pillars of Salt–
caught between moving forward and looking back.
Keep marchin forward like you ought–
I gots the strength you lack.”
“Not again
Not again”
Emmett mutters a prayer
“Not again
Lord, not again.”
Emmett can only stare
if it is true
Maya frowns,
“shoulders falling down
like tear drops,
weakened by her soulful cries”
once again
we’re forced to fear the truth
as much as we fear the lies
-Rahk. (R. Person),
Original post read, “Civil Rights travel underground”. All posts are subject to revision. Some posts will become unavailable as “Rahk’s Water’ continues to form into a final work.
“Grief (When a Poem Can’t Fix It)” -raw audio
When you can’t write a poem.
When a poem can’t fix it.
When a flick of the lighter
and a pull of the cigar
and a lashing out at loved ones
can’t fix it
When sporadic sobs of faith
ripping from bellies
like plagues of moths
can’t fix it
When a prayer skips
“Don’t let it be true, Jesus”
And another prayer skips
“Don’t let it be true, Jesus”
And the prayers skip
And voices crack
like whips across Christ’s back
and questions linger
on the napes of our necks
and lifting our heads to the sky
does not loosen their hooks
And you don’t ask them
because you know the silence
resounds like his last breath
Because you know he should not have taken his last breath
And a rage storms
through the blood of kinship
And a rage storms
below the clouds of scriptures
And a question clasps hold of your eyelids
And a gaze falters at the casket
And a sweeping of the crowd jettisons a spray of questions
like bullets
like bullets
like bullets
that wail like they just lost their child
like bullets
like bullets
like bullets
that wail as if their prayers were answered incorrectly
like bullets
like bullets
burdened by too many unanswered questions
like bullets
like bullets
Who is responsible for these tears?Tears dammed by so many quesions
Tears desperate to escape the dam to prevent the flood
And a poem can’t fix it
And a prayer didn’t make it not so
And questions still haven’t been answered
And we have heard that weeping endures for a night,
But why is it that we have been forced into mourning?
Rahk's Water 