“License to Kill”

You don’t have a license to kill
Because Agent 007 does not really exist 
He’s just a character 
Made up by an author
Holidaying on a Carribean isle.

You think your badge gives you power, authority and privilege over us
To persist in targeting us based on skin colour
Perhaps, perpetrating an unknown agenda 
Which may be the eradication or control of BAME nations
Conspiracy theories abound around this and Covid19 and 5g
That we are being population controlled and are picked out by age and DNA
To relieve the burden on future societies
And just for added fun… 
You enjoy our suffering and humiliation 
At your hands and by your actions and inaction.

When we resist 
You cut us down
Because all you see are pimps, musicians, athletes and clowns
Not lawyer or teachers, engineers and entreprenuers
But lesser people… lesser beings than you are
Don’t you remember?
We used to wear crowns
Some even think 
We might have come from the stars
But you are fearful of and threatened by
Who we can become
But you don’t understand
Who we were
Who we are
So, now you are afraid
You should be very afraid
For that ‘one day we shall overcome’ 
…Has now come 
This hateful rage and negativity 
Hunting and hounding POC everywhere
At every opportunity presented 
When you feel you can ‘get away with murder’
When you feel you can wield your badge 
Like it’s a flaming sword of justice
That you can take away our rights and lives
Has met its fiercest barrier – in our togetherness
When we carry ourselves well
And do not fall prey to your taunts
It infuriates and enrages you
And yet, we still wear our crowns in peace 
It’s just that you choose not to see them anymore.

You don’t have a license to kill
Because having a badge isn’t meant to give thrills
American police should ‘protect and serve’
UK British police have forgotten their oath of 
‘fairness, integrity, diligence and impartiality’
Whilst a minority are rotten apples 
Happily spoiling the barrel
Those touched by rot 
Are just as guilty 
By standing by
By doing nothing 
By being complicit 
In covering up the truth.

Don’t you hear the thrum 
And steadily building hum
Warriors awakening from deep slumber
A roar like thunder 
Many feet pounding the streets in protest
Of voices joined in community
Of many more voices joined the world over in unity
Calling on humanity for change… 
To be that change that we want to see…
We say as one… NO MORE.
And that this time, you cannot avoid

No more stop and search fabricated causes 
Just to reach daily or monthly targets
No more knees on necks
Grinding life into the floor
Until all that remains is piss spreading under a car door and a last gasping breath
No more Beckys and Karens reporting us
For their entitled perceived sense of disrespect or threat
When asked to leash your dog in an area
Where you know you should leash your dog
No more wrongful home invasions by the squad 
Long after you have your man charged and in custody
No more Chads and Kyles 
Talking about ‘you don’t belong here’
Blocking our path 
To rightfully being in an area 
Where you study
Where you work 
Where you are delivering to
Where you live…

But maybe, there should be more
Shock and awe
Or shock and shame
When your profiled
“black male fitting the description of… and seen doing… in the vicinity of…”
Turns out to be an FBI agent 
Minding his own damn business 
On a night out with friends.
Or the black man you pulled over 
Just because he was driving a flash car
Was on his way home from work early
For he’d promised to read his child a bedtime story 
Because they hadn’t seen him in weeks
Is going to be the Judge 
You testify to in court tomorrow

From Mr King in 1992 to Mr Floyd in 2020
Our shock that it happened
That it still continues to happen
And the guilty remain unpunished 
That laws are not changing
In line with the crimes
But instead protecting 
Those who do us harm
One rule for the badge 
One rule for those without
Knowing, if roles were reversed
And skin colour was different
The outcome would be… so much different.

It hurts… 
It really hurts
It hurts so bad 
I am numbed
From the things that should not be 
But, that so frequently are…
From the way too many stories and videos are surfacing
Showing injustice and unnecessary force
Perpetrated and applied against school children who are of no threat
Cuffed, beaten and thrown around like rag dolls, or shot in the head
And pregnant ‘at high risk of miscarriage’ mothers-to-be
With boot prints left on stretch-marked bellies
Their unborn child never being born alive
A child sitting upon the shoulders of a parent
As guns are pointed to their father’s head
A child seeing their father tasered
Not sure if they are still alive… or dead.

Feel it, hear it, say it with me….
“I can’t breathe…”
In young grief, his legacy proudly states,
“My Daddy changed the world!”
With the loss of her father, he did.
Out of the mouth of babes… comes a 6 year old’s truth.
Let us all make that change a reality  
Don’t stay silent when you can speak out
Educate about racism and thus eradicate.
We are one nation on one earth
We have nowhere left to go 
Except under the sea or out to the stars
But don’t forget we are powerful 
Creators and innovators
If only we can breathe life into those dreams
Those visions of peace and harmony
To be released from mental and emotional prisons
Too many have been taken too soon
And I cry when I think
In years to come 
What these people stolen from us
Would have grown up to become
To have achieved
But we are all one humanity
And under our many beautiful shades and tones
When we are cut 
We still bleed the same red
But some still see us POC
As too different to be able to co-exist.

(C) Angela Edgar * 3 June 2020

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“It’s Alright Now”

It’s alright now…

But it’s not

Don’t you see that child’s face

Covered with all the snot

Running across cheeks

Sliding over chins

The fear without 

Expressed as fight or flight within

With a gun aimed at the head or heart

Panic replaces calm

As disbelief replaces 

A new understanding

That in an instant

 It could all be over

And for what?

And why?

Both parties stand at a cliffhanger…

All for a profiled stop…

It’s alright now…

But it’s not really

“Make one wrong move…” 

Your eyes cry squinting

Waiting for the hit 

And the nothingness that follows

“But they never had to fear me…”

You silently prayed

Because to speak freely



Releases their wrath


You see their truth 

You see their ingrained fear of you

Of your youth

And they hate you 

They hate you

And they hate 

That you expose their weakness

The differences between your skin

You see their oleaginousness

How it burns deep scarring them

Curling their itchy trigger finger

Pulsing to make bloody fiery waves

“Move and you will be shot!”

(I’m a ‘have’ and you’re a ‘have not’)

You’ll just be another for the mass graves

Of names to be added to more names

Added to more innocent and sometimes guilty names

Erase a shade 

To see a whole other system of conduct

Erase a shade

To see a whole other system of treatment 

Bandaging wounds instead of inflicting ones

Food and water offered instead of the denial of basics

Whilst they’re earning their stripes

They’re showing they can have you under their thumb

Your life held in check at the end of a gun

Unevenly balanced 

A wedge never levelled for life

Because they wear a badge

Like they thought you hold a knife

But you do not, never did

And in this moment they’re thinking,

“I’m the manI’m in control

No one will halt my flow

Or stop my righteous roll.

I am protected

I can’t be arrested

I will be free

I have that police immunity.”

Whilst all you think is,

“I’m about to become 

Another casualty of police brutality.”

It’s alright now…

But it’s not

How some remain strangely silent

No outcry from credible popularity

Not curbing the racist rage

But hiding in secret bunkers

Hiding behind meaningless political platitudes

Inciting those who would see us kept slaves

Uneducated and knowing only their version of history

No longer worshipping slaver statues 

We topple and toss them back into the sea

Rather fitting that they join our ancestry 

But rather than learning about ours

And how we contributed to their greatness

They profit off our blood, sweat and tears

The 1% strive to keep the world they rule intact

By keeping us fearful, ignorant and divided

Creating new laws and acts 

As this world is upended on its axis

Amidst a world health crisis

Twisting, turning, round and round

Then the true racists came out 

About time we saw the football lager louts

Pop their heads out of their quarantine holes

Who were just waiting for their opportunity

To come and upset the peace and unity

Showing their true colours 

But we won’t be

We can’t be fazed

In us saving one of theirs

They are likely shocked and amazed

And rendered speechless and embarrassed 

So watch as we turn tables

To impart equality and justice for all

To create economic and social wealth

Fighting for the right to be

Just to be… let be

And the righteous

Marching, chanting in anonymity

Undulating rippling changes 

Ripping apart the notion of white privilege and its incumbent hipocrisy.


The White Robes 

That only came out 

In dead of night

Lit by flaming flickering torches

And burning crosses

Are now invisible 

Indiscernable from your neighbour 

Hidden under plain clothes

Or, blatantly flaunted walking the dog

As the roots in front of retail stores and parks

Are repurposed as lynching trees

Case closed : it was a suicide

Do you think that really?


Don’t believe that hype

There’s just one too many

For it to be coincidence 

They know we know you know

You might want to destroy us

But you can never deny us

When we speak 

We will be heard

You WILL hear us.

When we roar 

We will be felt

You WILL feel us.

When we charge 

You will make way…

You WILL make way. 

It’s alright now…

But, no it’s still not

It’s not alright

It’ll never be alright

As badges come under fire

Under more public scrutiny 

Floodgates are opened

Their desperation more evident

In the rising death toll knell 

Since George it’s more prevalent 

It’s a systemic impulse openly stating

“If I’m going down

I will take more of you with me”

No more can take up their cause

There’s never smoke without fire

Seek out the truth behind their closed doors. 

(C) 16th June 2020 Angela Edgar 

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Let’s dig deep into the drama
Plaguing Black Women into this 21st century
So let me tell you the story of
My hair trauma and me…

My Mama and Granma they both said
“Don’t let no-one put their hand inna yuh head!”

“Your head of hair is your crown
The source of all your energy.
There’s some out there
Who play yuh friend, but are yuh enemy!”

“Not everyone has good hand
For when they touch your hair it breaks.
So, when yuh find a good hairdresser, stick with dem
And ignore dem gossipy female snakes!”

Now we reach into the workplace
Is where the hair trauma really starts
When I get asked these stupid questions
My sharp glance pins ’em like they got caught doing a fart.

“I love that colour.”
“I prefer it straight “
“I prefer your hair curly.”
“I like how it frames your face…
Did you lose weight?”

“Did you go to a salon?”
“You did that all by yourself?!”
“Why not make up a hairclub and
Show the other black girls how to braid.”

“Is it a weave?”
“Is it fake?”
“Is it strong?”
“How long did it take?”

“Is it yours?”*
“Is it real?”
“Can I touch it?”
“Can I feel?”

The look that you give these men and women
Will surely cut them deep like a knife
They won’t be asking these questions again
If they value their life.

But sometimes we just don’t answer
We just smile and chat on back
It’s basically because if we did answer how we want
You’d be on the receiving end of a slap.

A Black Woman’s hair embodies her mood
It is her pride and joy
So she’s gonna tell you
“NO! You can’t touch it!”
Because her hair is not a toy.

She can buss a convincingly real chic weave
Wear it natural, permed, short or long
She can embrace her style and her flow
This is how she shares her hair song.

Braided extensions or natural locs
Corn-rowed big or small
Go ahead, compliment another sistah,
“Eee-ee girl gwarn!”
“Bwoy, your hair look nice, it tall!”

From the roots to the tip
It shows off her energy and flare
When the hair style is on fleek fiyah
We’re simply telling you that we don’t care.

It’s a rite of passage
That every Black Woman has to take
*My answer nowadays to this Q is simple…
“I bought it, so it’s mine and yes… it’s fake!”

(C) 17th June 2020 Angela Edgar

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