op-ed: an open letter to the ku klux klan

November 26, 2015

By KiNG, AFROPUNK Contributor

Photo by Tyler Shields

knows a home
so well inside you
It can’t even
call itself by name
Don’t even
itself separate
You, self righteous
and murderer in
the same sentence
Try and turn
Black America
into a graveyard
and name it a playground
Act like you don’t
believe in resurrection
In how voices can
be both weapon
and target
How a noose can
work both ways
You can snap a neck
But can’t drown out
this kind of pain
We will lasso you
into the hurricane
of howling that’s coming
There is a circle
of witches praying
A red river that don’t know
anything but the word stain
ready to wash onto your porch
You thought this was gonna
be a silent genocide?
You thought you could wear
a hood looking like Casper
and then poof be gone?
Watch a church burn in reverse
and that’s how we come back
Ash to brick
Martin and Malcolm
leading the March
Teaching us how
to take a burn
Make it into a scar
that looks like a
crescent moon
We can break our backs
and be the beast you
believe us to be
This is a metaphor for anger
This is a metaphor for peace
This is where the black lives matter
What happens when the prey
stops bowing to the hunter
When the bullets don’t
ring loud enough no more
Because we so used to them
What do you do when the fear is gone?
When you been doing this for over
a hundred years and we still here?
We still strange fruit
We still ready to spit at your feet
Use our picket signs to show
what a dirty sheet you all are
If being this alive means
the consequence is death
Remember my God
knows an afterlife
Remember my God is
more vengeful than whatever
Monster you worship in the mirror
Know they will remember our names
Each a beacon of hope
Each a broken lamp
burning too brilliantly
A prayer
A milestone for change
A slow forest fire
Have you ever watched
a church burn in reverse?
Have you ever watched
a white sheet turn to dust?
Hint: it’s what happens
when you give
black ghosts
the matches back
Hint: it’s what happens
when you prepare
to lose a war that was
never yours to wage

KiNG is a 21 year old gender fluid, bisexual, biracial, spoken word poet, as well as co-founder of SLiM Poetry (an open mic at the Container Yard in the Arts District). Through writing and performing, I seek to create dialogue and develop a rapport with readers/audience members. I also intend to shatter stigma pertaining to mental health, feminism, racism, and anything social justice related as well as encourage creative communities to integrate and innovate. 


Instagram: @king.among.men