Whats in my heart is heavy.
Its time to get going, to stoke positivity.
Put out the fires, and you can all blame me.
I don’t even care.
Stop Police Brutality.
Stop senseless violence.
Justice for all the people harmed, black and brown,
Schizoaffected, but the answer isn’t
to burn it all down.
We need to pump the brakes.
Artists need to make.
Poets, express yourself.
I am trying, it’s the only thing I feel works.
Cause the world is perverse, and COVID-19 is out there.
And there are mean streets now,
but there are some people who do care.
And there are people who are out there.
And I am trying to find them.
If you write with a pen, show ’em.
I am not backing down,
but I am not adding gasoline.
There is an imbetween.
And tweeting isn’t it. 45, what are you doing?
You are not my president.
I am a resident, set in time,
and my poetry is elegant, and it comes
from a medicinal mind.
And people!
Take care of yourselves,
but don’t be blind.
Poets write rhymes,
paramedics save lives.
Police, realize.
It’s all one life.
One life one love.
That’s all it ever was.
And yeah, I’m not saying world peace,
but yo, put down the guns.
We got a pandemic, and people are dying.
100K, last time I checked,
and the numbers are climbing.
And I am getting on my digital soap box.
And racists don’t need to listen.
But judge people by the weight of their actions,
not the color of their skin.
Poets, and artists, who feel powerless
to stop a corrupt government,
you can picket outside,
or you can let your pens talk.
Let your voice move
if only if that’s the only thing
you can do, right now.
You are not powerless,
None of us, are powerless,
but yo, I am asking everyone
Kill the violence right now.
Because a powder keg will blast
this whole place, burn it to the ground.
Its peaceful where I am.
I’d like to think I don’t live in a bubble.
Do something, but violence begets violence,
and I don’t want to die.
I actually have hope, that some of us will get through this all right.
And yeah, I’m white I get it.
I have privilege, cause the color of my skin, doesn’t dictate how I live.
To my friends in the black community, I hear you, I feel you, I can not understand what you
Are going through.
This is not a plea, do what you gotta do.
But Oddball Magazine, is going to practice peace, and change this system,
The only way we have been doing,
We are a movement and we are going to keep moving.
I don’t feel iike I am done with this poem yet, so much on my heart.
But this is the beginning of a revolution, a renaissance,
And this is where it starts.
And maybe you think I am talking bullshit, and want me to step off my digital soapbox,
But that’s all I got. I don’t got guns, I don’t got bombs. I got my mind. I got my pen, and I will
Do as much as I can with what I got.
So if you are with me, write with me.
And if you don’t I get it.
This is on my heart heavy, and that’s the only way I can process it.
Cause truthfully I am nauseous, scared, confused, sick,
But I know I will get through it.
I hope to God, I get through it.
That we build from this.
I am an advocate, I am not a sheep.
I am a person. I am scared.
And I write, cause I am gifted. That’s all I got for now. There are people out there dying.
And all I could think to do right now, is keep writing.
A plea for peace from the pen of a mad man.
And I am not done, but I am no Stan.
I am mad. I have been labeled mad.
But I am scared, and I have been labeled scared.
But I am strong, and I have made myself strong.
And though I feel the world is burning right now,
I don’t think it will for long.
Put down the guns, stop the bombs.
Chill, write a song.
You going to change more with a song.
And you might hear it, not your spirit
Poets remain fearless, writers be the witness.
I have been writing for a long time, but now I have to do this.
It’s the only way I will get through it.
So I know I have a platform, I built it.
With each poem, I have cemented my style.
I will live through this.
You will live through this.
Peace to the peope I have been talking to.
The Renaissnace Beatniks.
We are going to make a difference.
Even if I don’t, I know someone will, hopefully you.
Poet, get writing.
Fighters get fighting,
but violence begets violence.
That’s absolutely true.
I don’t have guns, do you?
Maybe you do. Well, then I am dead.
Cause I am going to write, bulletproof instead.
I got this.
You got this.
You brilliant, keep resilience.
You want to shut the fuck up?
I ain’t stopping till we find a resolution.
A peaceful solution, a fucking revolution.
I’ll keep writing until I get my thoughts out.
I am going to keep trying, till my lungs give out.
That’s all I can do. I have a gift. And you do too.
Uplift, go the fuck off, on beats, guitars, make it loud.
Make something. We have to do it now.
Yo, there are armies, I get it.
There are bombs that could destroy us.
There are people with a serious power differential,
and they can control us.
But I am asking for peace, a plea from you to me.
Probably won’t do a thing, won’t stop Police Brutality.
But than maybe it will.
‘Cause that is so fucked up what happened to George Floyd.
That Cop, Wow. I don’t think he knows what he did.
Or maybe he did.
But holy shit.
He got me going.
And that’s a bad thing.
Or maybe a good thing.
Cause I am going to keep writing.
‘Cause fuck it.
That’s the only thing I can do.
So fuck racists, it’s a mindset,
It is so fucking, trivial.
It is so fucking lame.
We are all the same.
So I am going to chill.
I have to fucking chill.
Peace, love, that’s all I can do.
And that’s all I ever will.
I want to stop writing.
But this is a marathon.
And I have to stop.
If only to pick up a guitar,
or write a song.
Be safe out there.


Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly. His new book is Train of Thought.


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