Pointless Banter Poem by Mustafa Marconi

In so much that I constantly ponder
Try to make sense of pointless banter
Great vats of self serving propaganda
For so long propelled into the mainstream
Carving valleys of depression and despair
As the suffering patiently seek salvation
Awaiting trial for murder
Searching frantically for loopholes
Still trying to come to grip
How I was picked up, handcuffed and jailed
For being the fourth born child of a nigger
It didn’t matter that I was a man
I was suppose to accept contempt and disrespect
Suppose to swallow degradation and humiliation
All the time addressing my assailants as sirs
As the bitter taste of shame settled into the pit of my stomach
But because I ask for courtesy and demanded my human rights
I was booked for resisting arrest
I can still see the smile on his face
The sick smile of abuse of power and the exploitation of authority
Two hours in I’m forced to defend myself
Once again tact and diplomacy wouldn’t do
Maybe I’m just crazy
Trying desperately to understand why the blind can not see
Why so many of us have been duped to believe
That this type of behavior no longer exist
Mama’s pastor came to visit
Told me to put it in God’s hands
He seen his daddy murdered
At the hands of blood thirsty klansmen
Men who believe it was their God who ordained them executioners
The same God his father called on in his final seconds
Fifty-five years later and he still doesn’t understand
Why that God never answered his father’s prayers
Politely I asked him to leave and he reluctantly obliged
My brother followed accompanied by moms
They informed me of my sins and asked me to repent
Brother told me he feared for my soul
To give my life to Jesus
This despite the fact that he served three tours in Iraq
And killed in the name of freedom
Moms was so proud of him and all of his medals
While my situation tarnished her image
Politely I asked them to leave and they graciously obliged
In so much that I constantly ponder
Trying to make sense of all the pointless banter
Great vats of mind numbing propaganda
For so long saturated into the mainstream
Carving valleys of hopelessness and despair
As the suffering patiently seek salvation
And I the fourth born child of a mentally shackled nigger
Await my executioners