IslingtonTribune

The independent London newspaper

Black Lives Matter poem moves crowd during protest outside police station

Juan Miguel's moving poem inspired the Black Lives Matters protest outside Islington Police Station

24 July, 2020 — By Juan Miguel

And yet still…

They continue with their trespassing,

Like kneeling on our rights,

While we feel hungry for the fight,

Knowing that history is on our side,

Constraining our plight to the fist,

They dare to tread void of respect,

They never think to spare our lives,

We congregate in our camps,

The only left that cares to ensnare,

That state under siege by the many,

And fallacy of their commitment to repair,

A broken code between police and youth,

Carrying disbelief in their plagued faces,

Of an injustice carried out in stages,

Forever lunging our aims into the iron sky,

Feeling the movement carry our claims,

The iron body of our conquerors,

Lay bare no conversation towards apology,

Never retreating, surrender is no compromise,

Discontinued revolution spiralling despair,

Control of territory is how they perpetrate,

Their heinous crimes paraded and cast,

Asunder do they lay victim to vanity,

Let the faces of the disappeared haunt them,

And with their suits and helmets they charge,

We will never wander alone in the wilderness,

So much as they still continue to degrade,

We will never stand down for alone as they are,

The ashen men of yesterday’s tar,

As they burn the effigies of tyrannic men,

Shall we arise in our multitudes for which we avenge,

The lives which were stolen from this earth,

The tide of an ocean they can never reverse,

We cease to surprise in our element of conversing,

To find shelter in a broken tone of black,

Like a musical note that rings true,

The celestial belt that binds our universe,

One race, one person, one life!

To make our mark on this soil we call ours,

It is the knee that binds our pledge,

And so forth they blind with savagery,

Pleads from below the grave of anarchy,

We shall generate from the source of beacons,

For they light the torch of successors of freedom,

The dimly lit road is precariously long,

But to walk it is bold, and necessary,

Now we must use our bodies in tumult,

Never escape metaphor but convulse,

Showing our generation the proposal,

And how we shall never agree to black mail,

Hold those police involved to account,

Free the memory of our brothers in their count!

And yet still more will continue to pour,

On to the streets we will take our slogans,

And yet still until justice is served,

To fulfill the rogue ones who left lands,

Upon revival the upper street we cross,

And put them in chains like the sandals,

Warriors apart and yet still we debark

We shall not stall neither protect their treatment,

By assuring that we are not resisting,

And instead gather in our masses,

Creating waves to crush their arrests

Now all that is left is to make our lives matter!

By Juan Miguel

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