unspeakable acts

17 street

Dedicated to my brother “Just Bill“…..   Peace out humanity !

oh seemingly quaint  ~  charming
and refined
Richmond
the once was
capital
of the
Confederacy
I this day
leisurely
stroll along
the streets
of the historic
Shockoe Bottom …….
then suddenly
as I approach
the 17th Street
Farmers’ Market
and see
that big clock just ahead
on the Main Street Station
my empathic sensitivity
heightens
its perceptivity
like a sonar …..   picking up
an underwater frequency
I have these strong
and persistent   ~   pulsating
vibes
come over me
some sort of
collective conscious
archetype …..
……   a ghost in the machine
I shiver and tremble
as if possessed by a demon
information   ~   memories
flow through my body
the good with the bad
well some
in my humble opinion
purely evil
stored and preserved
forever
within the spirit
of energy/matter   ~   according
to my thought process
within reflective consciousness
anyhow…..
……   there is here to me
this very strong sense
of emotional turmoil
a felt sense
about a restless
and shameful revelry
not so long ago …..   at least
not in the creator of all things
kind of time
I perceive today
this sanctimonious mob
stirred up by
value judgments
tainted with the poison
of bias
associated with
self- elevation
folk of a certain skin color
thinkin’
from the perspective
of a prehistoric mindset
they are favored
on high
over those of a different
skin color
others of THE HUMAN RACE
they whipped them in public
as if not human
at this place
where the 17th Street
Farmers’ Market
now is….
traded for ownership
fellow human beings
into slavery
there was even
a professional ‘Whipper
or known as a slave breaker
to beat them
right here
I still smell the smoke
of their skin
from the lash
that’s so   ~   so fucked up ……..
as a human
I wanted to puke
my guts out
from remorse
for being born of white skin
then as I walked on by….
…… my senses
came back to me
I ain’t got no issue
never have had
with a sister or brother
of the humankind
those of another skin color
however
like the story
of the Holocaust
or that of the First Nations
this story needs to be told
again and again
so members of
THE HUMAN RACE
won’t continue
to repeat
on others
such unspeakable acts
not acceptable
within
the intelligently progressive
ideals
of the human-kind

peace out

Image & Words by   ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

This story poem will be a part of the May edition that’s a collaboration by the 2015 Poetry Posse  – The Year of the Poet II published by Inner Child Press.  Buy your monthly copy Here: http://www.innerchildpress.com/the-year-of-the-poet.php

All Words & Images Copyright © 1999-2021 - Keith Alan Hamilton - All rights reserved.