Where Hate Has Lease

A poem

I wrote the below poem as a response to Trump's vile comments about four women of color. I am African American and the way he spoke once again exposed what America has tried to bury for years. It’s oppressive white culture.

We want to deny who we are. However, in the voting booth of 2016, the true nature of our nation was on display. All of the ugly chunks of racism, xenophobia, sexism, and homophobia were vomited from the belly of America on Jan 20, 2017.

Trump's lips spew hate and his party says nothing. They sit idly by like cowards and let him strike like a poisonous snake. Our constitution and Declaration of Independence are lies written in the blood of slaves, Native Americans, and currently immigrants. Immigrants we stack in camps like a dog pound and deny basic human needs like a blanket or even a shower.

So I wrote a poem about hate having a lease on the soil and the soul of America. Thanks for taking the time to read the scribbles of a man burdened with anger and confusion about my country.

Hate leased the soil of America

It owns the history

There is no mystery

about blood spilled for an illusion

of freedom

which means nothing to me

The land of the free

scarred by whiplashes and cotton fields

Native Americans dying on trails

filled with tears and death

ropes tightening around innocent necks

as breathlessly black bodies scream

in a nation built on a lies

The White House a seat of white power

A klansman with no hood

floods the nation

with bleakness and hopelessness

curses diversity and spits misogyny

Darkness covers the nation

infects liberty

and cripples justice

Hate has lease

but humanity is the landlord

Evict hate with affection for the fellow human

and allow love to rebuild our national connection