Where Do I Stand?

A voice
You can hear it yet you won't
In spite of the sound, gavelled hand falls
Fingers jerk back in response
Another demon put away into the caves
Of steel of iron and concrete graves
These elements greeted by confused looks
Fears flowing through glass pools of tears
Amidst murderers, thieves, and those who rape
Replay the tape. . .you sit. . .and replay the tape
A voice calls. . .gavelled hand falls
I stand still. . .looking intelligent in my defense. . .no loss for word
Losing freedom
I stand looking intelligent and good
From the same block as the previous hood
You hear that voice. . .I pierce through, taking a stand
Gavelled hand rises. . .I take a fall
John J.
A poem dedicated to Johnny Cochran, read at the Slam at Real Art Ways,
27 June 1998