Mothers of Murdered Sons
By Dominique ChristinaDominique Christina performs the poem "Mothers of Murdered Sons" at the 2016 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Dominique ChristinaDominique Christina performs the poem "Mothers of Murdered Sons" at the 2016 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
By Clint SmithThere is a lake here.
A lake the size of
outstretched arms. And no,
not the type of arms raised
By Taylor JohnsonBless the boys riding their bikes straight up, at midnight, touching,
if only briefly, holding, hands as they cross the light to Independence.
Bless them for from the side the one on the red bike looks like me
his redbrown hair loose against the late summer static heat.
By Rasheed CopelandWe learned
from the book
of our fathers’ silence
By Lauren K. AlleyneWhere does a black girl go
when her body is emptied `
Of her? And her wild voice,
where does it sing its story
By Hanif Willis-AbdurraqibI think I am breaking up with memory. again. I live
by only that which will still allow me
to do the living. The flag, for example, reminds me
to either feel fear or sadness, depending on how high
By Safia Elhilloi was born in the winter in 1990 in a country not my own
i was born with my father’s eyes maybe i stole them he
doesn’t look like that anymore i was born
in seven countries i was born carved up by borders
By Jennifer Maritza McCauleyBefore they tell us how to look
at our kilt brothers' bodies:
Tell them we already know how to see ‘em.
By Tafisha A. Edwards4. Your rapist has elected to continue receiving his bi-weekly paychecks via direct
deposit. Your rapist has elected not to cash out his 401K for fear of incurring
penalties. Your rapist recently called HR to review his health care coverage—
open enrollment will begin in a few short months and coverage options
are changing.
By Hayes DavisAfter their hands are washed
After their utensils are chosen
After little brother needs help
After “Get back to the table!”