czvasser Afroticity

Jesus Aint Say Nothin

“There comes a time when silence is betrayal.”  – Martin Luther King Jr.

Lawd, I dont know nothin bout my man
but I got dis post card
him burnt
swung from a rope
didn need no hoods
men in straw hats done it
dey kids eatin treats
dey women most vocal
dey said he tried to teech them
wernt neva true
He done gone to the sto
to ask why Mista riled me
I neva told what Mista did
neva told bout the other men
neva told the yung boy do it too
all the while deys tellin him
this is how you treat dem niggas
dis your first boy
sweet meat
keeps dem in dey place
all the time, the judge sittin there
playin checkers with Mr. Jeff
I told him it wernt nothin
told him not to go
told him we had vittles
wernt no need to go
so now I got dis mail card
card say shut up or you next
nigga bitch
him dead and Mista holdin the burn wood
dey sold pieces of dat wood for a nickel
when it got cool nuf to handle
I was gonna burn dat dress
torn with blood on it
but he’d seen it for I could
I asked the Lawd not to let him go
but Jesus aint say nothin
he ain’t neva had no pride
not bout work
or chilren or nothin
the ax handle be broke
but some hell fire flare up dat day
when he saw my broom jumpin dress
ripped and bloody like I was
he slaved to buy dat dress
all dem Sundays without gods words
I thought he throw it in
when the white preacher beat him
for not stackin the wood proper
but he bought dat dress
nothin left for the coolin’ board
dey wont let me have him no way
Dey say he hang there
till his nigger meat fall off
All I ken do is bury dis dress
say some words over it
and move on.

– CZVasser

czvasser Fried Chicken

Family Album

“A riot is the language of the unheard.” – Martin Luther King Jr.

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Family Album

My 1st born should be Malcolm or Muhammad
Rare players hold the line with their lives
Crème not to be trifled
Faster than bullets and endorsements
Podiums won kicked out from under us
Hands echoed by a throng believing in a dream
You and I represent all
We build children in the image we have of them
broken upon the black man’s rack
My father rock crushes and road builds.
My mother cotton labors.
Prison rewards them
with me no better than a bushel.
Women with dry breasts feed families
scraps of soul cooked food.
Children wash their dreams away
Against armies still in blue and gray.
Fear is an auction platform
thought black men have demonstrated worth.
We sing, we dance, we play sometimes strangely
indifferently fanned by green prevailing winds.

– CZVasser

czvasser Fried Chicken

Domestic Enemies

 

A malnourished Somali child is wrapped in an American "Stars and Stripes" cloth at a therapeutic feeding center at Dagahaley camp

“I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic. . .so help me God.” – United States Oath of Allegiance

 

Domestic Enemies

Hands washing hand
over hearts saluting a flag
hiding busted leather knuckles.

Hand over hand
hoisting domestic violence to new heights
Calling patriotism picking strange fruit.

No one washes the feet of Jesus anymore
9mm sin and shame
revisiting ropes and shackles.

The middle passage continues
internment masquerades as prison
privilege divining men and women as morsels.

Waiting for the next coming of Christ
and the 2nd civil rights movement
in redlined skyscrapers and subdivisions.

The 2nd act played
they’ve moved to bobbing for apples
and applesauce.

And you, Brutus
one of the domestic enemies
swaddled in blue.

Agreed officers are overseers
of the good public
slaying myths, beasts and colored people.

We fix blame as always
not children of Ham
proved by cranial cavity.

You call it home
tombstones the prominent monument
unmarked graves the foundation.

  • CZVasser