Holding Back the Blue Rot !

“Holding Back the Blue Rot” [Blue Rot = the Police State]

I am not the bridge, I am the Keystone, the Arch, the Matriarchal form of being.

I am without racism, without Rot and free to stand a protectorate, a dome, the whole, the womb.

My back is no bridge, yet my shoulders are my cornerstones, my devout legs my pillars of foundation. 

My skull, the beauty, a keystone of balance and wedged pressure holding the arch of time.

Again without ROT!  A void with no haunted racial overtones, having to explain but when, when, when will the pure white Sistas stop trampling my forlorn bridge. You must come to the ebony steps of my fortress first, reveal in your promised bond, the void of Rot, only love and Sisterhood. 

Displace your allegiant with your misogynist father patriarchy. 

Raise your own, wipe up your mess, mend your lashes, avoid the crashes of Rot and trashes.  

My pillars, my foundation, arches, keystone and dome is a realm for Us, the trodden no more.  

This is OUR temple. No chains, no restrictions, Our ascension is the greeted mention without pretension.   

The bridge is no more, ‘till you bridge the liberty of that olive branch, then We open the latch. 
Walls the placenta, where my family’s dome is home. Trust a certain musk to reveal the husk, layer by layer, not like savory white ivory, yet like its harmony of ebony.  

Our invite to excite the mighty River will instill the bill, no bail just a good romp in hell instead of jail.

Ring the bell, the tower of power tolls only for those that hold the flower bold, harmonious, glorious, no fuss, a truss with a tussle. The bustle of battle that once rattled my fear and the tears of Blue Rot’s great bear and Blue beast, could they be Our feast.  

Blue Rot’s surmised submission will expel all bought thoughts, no more can We stand and lay within your fray.  A crossroads, that intersection lacks affection, and contains sour infections, having no recollections. 

Build, don’t break, make the doves of love fly high again for all time.

We march in liberty, not a quiet riot, yet a vest of protest. True due unrest of the Blue. 

We glide in pride of BLM, WOC, BIPOC & Say Her Name- We haul y’all ! This fight, its might, for the rights, will bring delight, only with the fire of desire to be next in the vortex of a certain context that’s not perplexed.  

These streets are Our beats. Our feet pound back the Blue hue we are blinded and minded to rewind, yet We don’t forget the let of that Blue Rot. No threat nor fret off Our brow.

Put pressure on that Blue Rot, make it less than fresher. Don’t ordain its frain, yet shut ‘em aside, cuz they ain’t Our ride.

How now can the tides of oppression no longer be a monger of repression. The waves of our new haze will depress any & all address of duress.  

The Blue union a savior, for unjust, must be stopped block by frickin’ brick, unlocking hates fate to fall deep & steep to be forever severed. Thwart danger, release that anger. Trap the ranger of Blue Rot and make ‘em trot back to their container we no longer maintain-er. Let ‘em be the disdain they are, they’re no star by far. We will not refrain from holding ‘em back, tighten that slack without lack of a counter attack.  

Your Blue Rot is clever, but must stand forever in a current of no return. Cuz We ain’t your intern.

So We can heal, appeal, and peel the Fruit of Unity with Our Brown & Black (and hopefully white) Sistas of might & mutiny. Unity without punity.

Hold back that Blue Rot, where we trot without chains for eternity of modernity. Be alive to strive for the Lives within Our hive. Our stance will forever be the dance of Resistance to that Blue Rot, finally a state without hate !!!!

Riot if needed, the bleeded are feeded. Cruise without bruise in the face of race. We promise to evolve to resolve. We are the solution to the revolution. The mine of fem-a-nine, We are one (1):  WON: Women of Now.

Fly Our flag without gag, high in the sky for all to see with glee. Just be Our United Resistance (OUR).


Rae Waulton
April 2022