Life & Stuff · Poetry

Black Lives Always Matter. Black History Always Matters. – poem

As February comes to a close,

Making way for the coming of spring

I want you to sing of the dead

Black boys and black girls.

Gospel and grace holds space for their names

Their pain our pain forever ingrained

In our hearts, our days, our future

Untouched by their feet.

Because Black lives always matter.

February or October, the month we pretend

To know and care and share.

It’s like only loving your spouse

On Valentine’s Day. Does that make sense?

Why only love black lives in the months

You’re told to? No.

Black lives always matter.

My unborn, un-conceived son’s life

Matters.

The most beautiful man in the world –

My grandfather – his life

Matters.

My fiance, my brother, my mother, my nan,

My uncle, my aunties, my counsins, my nephew

They matter. They matter. They matter.

All the names we don’t know –

Matter.

All the names we do know –

Never forget.

Never forget to celebrate and speak

And shout and clap

And stand and kneel

And cry and cry and cry

Year round.

Because Black lives – ALWAYS – Matter.

In Winter, spring, summer and fall

Celebrate them all and mourn them all

Not when one is dead.

Not when one is president.

Not when your sister dates one.

Always. Always. Always.

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