comets: a word on brutality, healing & shining

The issue of police brutality and silenced voices are the inspiration behind this site, yet you’ll notice that there have not been many posts on police brutality recently as these incidents scathe our lives and our timelines.

We live in a world where a hashtag or a quick article seem to be a sufficient response to the unthinkable injustices that our community face. It is not. We acknowledge and fully recognize that raising awareness and spreading information is only one easy step. We also recognize that with or without us, these stories are being told. We are working to find ways to not add to the redundant cycle of breaking news or simply analyzing what we all know to be true: 1.) America’s greatest fear is the black man, 2.) America’s greatest challenge is the black woman and 3.) the system is not broken, it is doing exactly what it was created to do.

While the words you read here may not be the policies that will fix our system, we are hoping that they can heal some of the pain that these injustices conjure while inspiring young people to find the power in their voices also. Our hope is that some mental and emotional wellness and respect for your humanity can be found here and resonate beyond the pages of this site into our every day lives.

Below is an amazingly moving poem by Mariam Coker on black boys, shooting stars and police brutality that can also be found on the Winter Tangerine.


cometsblacklivesmatter

Black boy has skin like the night sky.

The rest of the world is so obsessed with if you bleed blood or bleed tar,

want to make riches out of your body.

Want to turn us oil,

coal.

Under so much pressure it is hard to believe we have not turned diamond yet.

 

Headliner:
Black people are dropping from the sky like flies,

no like bodies,

no like flies,

no like cats and dogs,

no black people are worth less than them.

So black people are dropping out of the sky like bodies,

no like stars and no one is making wishes on them.

 

Black boy has skin like the night sky,

carries the world and wears it as a hoodie.

He is decorated with bullet wound stars,

and people aren’t wishing on them.

Look at our skin, we have shootings too!

Come wish on my black.

Everyone wishes to a night sky but no one wishes to a black body.

Black boy,

black girl,

black blood,

blood in the street like mother did not bleed baby into this world.

Black people just bleed so easy.

 

Headliner:

Black boy left in street. 

White cop took him out like trash,

now he’s just a black body.

But black body is the same color as the street, so does it really matter?

 

Heard white cop shot the sky and black boy came crashing down,

world called him a shooting star,

and world still did not wished on him.

They shoot the sky in celebration and then     how much it bleeds.

 

Fun fact, shooting stars are really meteors making its course through space.

Black boy came falling from heaven like comets, like asteroids, like meteors.

They are what killed the dinosaurs.

Watch these bodies drop out the sky like flies,

no like bodies,

no like flies,

no like cats and dogs,

no black people are worth less than them.

So black people are dropping out of the sky like bodies,

no like stars, and no one is making wishes on them.

There is a meteor shower happening,

no one is watching.

 

Headliner:
Black boy was the big bang,

he was the pause before everything flashed white

followed by the blackest of nights.

Still then, no one wished on his nova. 

Mariam Coker

 


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