Poems for Black Lives Matter

CHARM student editors began curating this collection of poems in February 2020, in support of the Black Lives Matter at School Week of Action, using poems that were featured in previous volumes of CHARM. The reality is that we’ve received and published many, many poems addressing systemic racism, police brutality, and racial injustice, as well as poems that celebrate Black joy, identity, and liberation. CHARM is committed to amplifying Black voices and experiences, and actively pursuing anti-racism in our organization and through our publications.

We are accepting submissions for this topic on an ongoing basis. To submit something, please contact our student editors at submissions@charmlitmag.org.

The first two poems featured were written in spring 2020 in response to the murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis, and the protests that have followed around police brutality, white supremacy, and racism in our country.

Created with sunshine

By Amaya Burke, Grade 9

Sunlight enters though her skin and exits though her smile

Her smile can light up a room and bring warmth

Coco Butter and a little coconut oil will do

Clear lip gloss will brighten her smile just a little bit more

She is made of sugar, honey and glitter but her tongue is made of spice

Enough spices to make you feel the heat but not enough to burn you

The natural highlight on her cheeks glimmer and twinkle when the sun hits them

Her hair comes in different shapes, lengths and textures 

Her soul is blissful most of the time but sometimes it yEarns for acceptance

Society shames her 

Her complexion is too dark 

Her hair is too wild and nappy to tame

Her natural body has been cloned and observed way too many times like she on display

She is used for research without her permission like she is unhuman

Like an animal

Everyone wants to look and act like her but no one really wants to be her

No one wants to feel her pain and guess what

No one would ever will

But though it all she still manages to smile

The same smile that can light up a room and bring warmth

The same smile that was created with sunshine

“Breonna Taylor's killers still haven't been arrested after she was shot in her sleep. I drew her, hoping to bring awareness to the issue, and I want to add it to my list of submissions for your magazine because it has the most meaning of anything I've ever drawn.

We need justice for Breonna Taylor.”

—Charlotte, Grade 12

I Ain’t Welcomed Here No More 

Ayodele Ayoola, Grade 9

I walk down the street

And guess who I meet

The men in blue who supposed to defend

But instead they chose to apprehend

They slap, punch, choke me red

They won’t stop till I end up dead

Oh Stop! Please? I can’t breathe!

I beg of you, just go, and leave!

My cries all disappear out of sight

I’ll end up dead if I try to fight

His knee is up against my throat

No one can stop him, they all too remote

My God, what country do I call this

A nation where the popo can just go bliss

At my expense, I kid you not!

I’ll be beat, stepped on, or even shot!

This nonsense must stop, but course it won’t

All I can do is scream Please Don’t!

As I bleed here lying dead on the floor

I know I ain’t welcomed here no more

TBIB 2020

Rashad Holloway, Grade 11

The protectors fail to protect us

Failed to serve

At least me

At least my family

My pigment makes a white woman clutch her purse when I go by

All I tried to say was hi

She can turn my greeting [acknowledgement] into an allegation 

Then here come those boys in blue

Those who refuse to live by the truth

They service a government that believes I belong in a cage.

Menace 2 society 

To a pig six feet under is where I should be

You step on my brothers necks while gunning down my sisters

You shoot me in my front yard

And claim that my melanin was a sin worthy of death 

The Nation tells me that I should always fear those boys in blue

Before they leave me black and blue

With a bullet through my chest or a knee to my neck 

We’ll always protest for those who have been laid to rest.

Change must come

Our revolution will be won.  

Because at any encounter with those boys in blue I send an “I love you” text 

Because I know, that I could be next.

Knees on our necks

By Amaya Burke, Grade 11

“I can’t breathe”

“I cant breathe”

His knees on his neck 

We all watch as his life slips away from him 

8 mins of horror 

Another life to mourn

Officers fired 

Okay but that’s not enough for us 

Still no charges 

They're protecting these murderers 

We’re tired of the same results

We’re tired of having to beg for our lives 

I am tired of seeing my brothers and sisters die 

They are supposed to protect and serve 

But all they do is kill

“Well don’t resist”

“Just stay calm” 

“Just comply”

No matter what we do 

We’re a target 

Our skin will still be seen as a threat

Their knees will still be on our necks

My people are tired and numb

“Rioting won’t help anyway” 

“Looting won’t bring him back”

They don’t not understand that our numbness has turned into rage 

Our rage keeps us going

Our rage is now our strength 

Our rage set a city on fire 

And together we'll watch it burn 

We’ll have our knees on their necks

Like MLK said 

Riots are the voices of the unheard

Alternate Names for Black Girls

By Kobi Brown, 8th grade 

1. Flexin my complexion

2. Strong

3. Powerful

4. Wild forest of hair

5. Sisterhood

6. A mother’s angel

7. The ashes that turn into a phoenix

8. Beautiful just the way you are

9. Flower flourishing through all the chaos

10. I’ll Rise, I’ll Rise, I’ll Rise

Alternate Names For a Black Boy

Rashad Holloway, 8th Grade 

1. Monster

2. Menace to society

3. Black toxic cloud

4. Red not black

5. It

6. Ingrate

7. Not-so-bad

8. A disgrace to Mom

9. White shell turned Black after an oil spill

10. Eyes carrying a heavy, dirty soul

11. A dark gray sky before your eyes

12. A Hershey chocolate bar with nothing inside

13. 2016 and still a Negro

14. Bad boy wishing for Dreamville

15. Still wanting to believe even if it’s all a lie

16. Translucent

17. A god of anger

18. Misunderstood

19. Mistake

20. The unwelcomed superhero

21. Blackened angel 

Black By Popular Demand

By Madison Mattison, Grade 12

Learn to love that nappy hair

That we don't care

That ghettofied

That dramatized

That brotherhood

That divided hood

Learn to love them gold teeth

That crooked speech

That “Imma be a baller” talk

That ‘no fear’ in my walk

Learn to love that black magic

Honey dripping down the walls

That majestic beauty standing real tall

Learn to love those family gatherings that keep you up at night

That kind of music you don’t like

That hustle game that stays real strong

That face we make like you did something wrong

Learn to love that..

We are Unchanged

Unchained

Unapologetic

Don't you ever forget it

We are black by popular demand.

Where I’m From

Saniyah, 6th Grade 

I am from the Milky Way to the earth

To the continent of Africa

To the country of Nigeria from whom my ancestors have been dragged

I am from the country of the United States

From my religion of being a Muslim

From Ayesha Muhammad

From Michael Larkins

To my mother’s childhood to the nerdiness I have

From the sunshine I am 

To the courage I have

I am from a long line of ancestors who would fight for what’s right

A line of ancestors who fought for freedom

I am from the reason my grandfather didn’t fight in the war

I am from the segregation my ancestors went through

From what my grandparents did for me to be a Muslim today

From very distinct personality

From very unique people

That’s where I’m from how about you?

My Black Family

By Lyriq Cook, Grade 6

You will write us down in History

for our greatness.

Notes jump off the keyboard

as my dad plays gospel music in the house.

We sing together in harmony,

passing the mic like LeBron catching an alleyoop from Kyrie.

They didn’t name me Lyriq for nothin.

My Black Family will rise.

The sounds inspire us to dance through our challenges,

sweat dripping down our spines like oil.

We are strong, great, and powerful.

We push through touch battles like they’re air.

My Black Family will rise.

When you shoot us with your words

and hate the way we look,

it doesn’t hurt because we’re a black family

that sticks together like magnets.

Haters gonna hate,

so we walk with pride and ignore them.

This Is My Black Family

AND WE WILL RISE.

The Talk

by Samnae Brown, Grade 6

My daughter, my son.

The day you were born I was terrified,

not of you, but of the people who would be around you.

Those who would judge you for how you look and what you are.

Not African-American.

Not negro.

You are black.

Rich in melanin, you are pure.

There are people who won’t take care of you like I do.

Eventually you gon’ get a car and be able to drive

“Momma I’m a good driver all my instructors say so.”

This ain’t about you bein’ a “good driver” thsi about you not coming home one day.

“Fine ma’ what should I do then?”

Speak in a calm tone so the officer knows you’re not in an irate state.

When they ask for you license and registration, you say where you’re gettin’ it from.

“You goin’ off on a tangent ma.”

No. I’m tellin’ you how to be safe ‘cause of the way you look.

“The way I look?”

You’re black.

Some white officer might say you had a weapon or you was bein’ aggressive.

You won’t get justice baby, that’s just how it is.

I wish it wasn’t this way.

I wish that everyone was treated with humanity.

But justice is a long way to come.

I love you, stay safe………………

Six Word Stories 

By 5th Grade Students from Mr. K’s Class

I thought we should trust you. –Andrea

Police violence. Blacks. Racism. Beaten. Repeat. –Litayasia  

Gone, come back. Kill - they’re gone. –Niekyia  

Stay calm and put it down. – Darnell  

I wish I could trust them.

I am sorry for your loss.

Why can’t they just be fair? 

Why can’t we just sit together? 

My life in Baltimore matters, right? 

–Khaya

Urban Pain

By Zoe Peters, Grade 11

I live just about five blocks away from where Freddie Gray was murdered and sometimes I think it’s sad

That he died and the city went wild but just like him all of the anger and fight for change went away 

Now he’s memorialized with paintings on buildings in the hood and people go on living

Like everything is all good

Well it’s not because every day in Baltimore another block gets “shot up” 

Guns have become a part of America’s wardrobe for our sons, and it’s a shame that through adolescent life 

Young black boys train and train and train

Truthfully we’re circling the drain because the more they train the less police officers show restraint

And that’s the problem today...

Fear

It’s been eating away at all races for years

Blacks fear the police and it comes off as “disrespect” and the police fear blacks and it comes off as “careless neglect”

So Freddie Gray dies along with Keith Lamont Scott and some nameless guy whose story didn’t make the news

I knew things hadn’t changed when a nine-year-old girl was seen crying because she was afraid of reality

She knew that her race was still being left on snooze and written off with the blues

But I’m not here to complain about how black people continue to lose

I just wish things would change and fear no longer ruled because as long as it does

Death is closer to every black male who’s ever lived in conditions that resemble a jail cell because it’s lurking on every corner

In every urban city where there is no pity for having a black face and beating beaten down by surviving in such a place

Because it seems no one cares since police still brutalize without any remorseful affairs 

Bullets don’t have names on them

Zaire Avery, Grade 8

Bullets don’t have names on them

But all do the same thing

All inflict pain

All take man to grave

From king to slave,

Once a man of all names

A world of black against white,

But some mixed to make gray

It’s a jungle where I come from

Black men hear the siren,

Like a dog reacting to a dog whistle

They cover their ears and run

A roar from deep inside

A lions mane is it’s only pride

They shaved our mane they take our pride

And the people hide their faces and they hide their eyes

It’s hard to live with a monkey on your back

Trying to shake the reality of the killing, shooting, or crack

Once a land of the free

Once a home of the brave

But people leave this land every day,

But not in natural ways

Gotta look over your shoulder because bullets don’t have names

But all do the same thing,

All take man to grave

The Difference Between You and I

By Samar Darby, Grade 6

We breathe the same air

We eat the same food

We drink the same water

We use the same tools

We are not different at all

We bleed the same blood

We have the same money

But the only difference between you and I is our color

We have the same world

We have the same diseases

We have the same states

We have the same materials

We have the same buildings

But once again the only difference between you and I is our color

Daybreak in Baltimore 

Amaya Burke | 7th Grade

When I get to be a storyteller

I’m gonna tell about daybreak in Baltimore

I’m gonna tell about the hustle and bustle of this huge city of mine 

People are gonna know where I came from 

I’m gonna tell people about the colorful murals in the city 

and how they can bring a community together like a magnet

The sound of dirt bikes on the rough city streets

The yelling and screaming of the little kids playing in the streets 

The salty smell of the harbors dirty waters

The drug dealer on every corner looking through the car window as we drive by

I’m gonna tell people about the addicts waiting for their deals

The sounds of gunshots noticing a new victim to gun violence or the newest Freddie Gray

The sound of police cars and helicopters on the streets and overhead

The sites of vacant house and buildings waiting to be knocked down 

When I’m done telling my story, I’m gonna put a happy ending in this sad story of mine

There will be more sunny days and less rainy days when I’m done

The sunny days will spread like wildfire from east to west and north to south 

When I get to be a storyteller, I’m gonna tell people about Daybreak in Baltimore 

The students featured in “Poems for Black Lives Matter” attended the following schools when the pieces were published. Most of the pieces in this collection have been featured in print volumes of CHARM since 2014.

Baltimore Design School • Baltimore Leadership School for Young Women • Baltimore Polytechnic Institute • Baltimore School for the Arts • Bard High School Early College • Friendship Academy at Calverton • City Neighbors High School • Mergenthaler Vocational Technical High School • The Midtown Academy • Southwest Baltimore Charter School

The logo for Black Lives Matter at School was designed by Fabiha Ahmed, a high school student at Bard High School in Queens NY.