[sc] r [e] am [a] bles

sunvapor asked: What the fucks happening in Ferguson?



Alright, i’m gonna sit down and basically explain the situation in this ask so everyone of my followers knows why i’m so pissed.

Michael Brown, a 17 - 18 year old african american boy was unlawfully shot (8-10 times supposedly) by police in St Louis, Missouri on saturday, august 9th, 2014. He was unarmed, and had done nothing to attract suspicion other than the fact that he was black. His body was left in the street for 4 hours. (beware: somewhat graphic image linked)

There are several claims from witnesses (see: Dorian Johnson’s account and video [HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING UP ON HIS ACCOUNT, ITS VERY SPECIFIC] — Brown’s friend who experienced the situation first hand, La’Toya Cash and Phillip Walker— Ferguson residents nearby the incident),  that fall together in generally close claims. However, the only one who’s claim seems out of place is the police officer’s who shot Brown. Who, by the way, is put off on paid administrative leave AND who’s name remained under anonymity for his safety (However, attorney Benjamin Crump is looking for a way to force release his name). He claims that Brown began to wrestle the officer for his gun and tried attacking him after he told Brown and his friend Dorian Johnson (22) to “get the f*ck on the sidewalk”.

According to Johnson, after a minor confrontation on the officer’s part where he grabbed Brown by the neck and then by the shirt, the officer pulled his gun on Brown and shot him at point blank range on the right side of his body. Brown and Johnson were able to get away briefly and started running. However, Brown was shot in the back, supposedly disabling him from getting very far. He turned around with his arms in the air and said “I don’t have a gun, stop shooting!” By this point, Brown and the officer were face to face as the cop shot him several times in the face and chest until he was finally dead. Johnson ran to his apartment and by the sound of his account, seemingly had some sort of panic attack. Later he emerged from his home to see Brown still laying in the streets. People were gathered with their cellphones, screaming at the police.

According to msnbc, the police refuse to interview Johnson at all, despite his amazing courage to come forward. They didn’t wanna hear it. They only listened to the cop’s account of it all and were vague with the media on what they thought happened. They’ve also refused to commit to a timeline in releasing autopsy results and other investigation information.

Numerous rumors are sweeping around such as Brown stealing candy from a QuickTrip, the store he emerged from calling the cops on him, Brown reaching for a gun, Brown attacking the cop first, ect. But these have all been debunked. (I know a lot of these have been debunked, but im having a hard time finding sources. if anyone could help out and link some legit ones id be SO grateful)

The event in and of itself was terrible, but now it has escalated beyond belief. Around 100 or more people, mostly black, went to the police station to protest peacefully. Things quickly turned bad as martial law got involved and authorities were bringing in K9s, tanks, heavy artillery, ect. The heavy police presence only made things worse as riots began to break out and looting and vandalism started. [ x ] [ x ] [ x ]

Now, as of very recently, the media has been banned from Ferguson. There is also a No-Fly zone above Ferguson for the reason of “ TO PROVIDE A SAFE ENVIRONMENT FOR LAW ENFORCEMENT ACTIVITIES ” as said on the Federal Aviation Commission’s website. Cop cars are lined up on the borders to prevent people from entering/leaving. Media outlets are being threatened with arrest. It completely violates our amendments and everything.

It’s becoming increasingly scary and difficult to find out whats going on over there. I’m afraid this is all the information I have, though. If anybody else knows anything about the situation, please feel free to add on or correct any mistakes i’ve made as i’m no expert on writing these things.

And as a personal favor, i’d really appreciate anyone to give this a reblog in order to spread the word. I think it’s a shame that this is going on in our own country yet so few people know about it. Help me make this topic huge and get this as much attention as possible.


Ode to Smoke

The fire in my belly has moved to my lungs.
And as the steely dendrites begin to char,
I exhale the slate colored specters of my silent anticipation.

To know that death will come is the only little, red beacon
I will need to guide sleep.

Time, my friend, where have you gone?
Where is it that I can find you complete?
I find your moments scattered, feel you always pressing,
but the eternity promised to me is fleeting.

Derision crosses your lips
as you issue clanging chuckles.

I’ve longed for the day to recede:
waited for cream nights to consume,
dreamed that I could be free
of everything you hold against me.

My feet drag and I am weary.

If I were to ever be lost at sea,
the waves would crash over me
as I sat sipping salty tea
at defeat’s drifting party.


'Twas but a dream,
So starts a fancy ramble
As I scramble to put pieces
Of the jigsaw together.
The edges collide in a hectic mashing
As hyperventilation hiccups
Interrupt the phrasing.
Pacing syllables in do or die moments
Resemble the aching and longing of
Far away places.
Sighs and goodbyes are the only things racing
As my heart stops.

For a second.
And I’m warped.

The swirling that fills my


It’s too much.

So, like the billowing of fresh sheets being spread on a bed, I smother my burning cosmos. I am wrapped. Swaddled and secure, I let loose the unexplainable grief and fear that stings with every bump-a-bump.
The tears edge in,
but this is life
and this is breath
and this is ache.

Fight off fancy,
And fortune will come 
In the squish
In the pull
And the salty fingers of the sea.
Trembles of silver ring 
In the shiver 
In the breath
And the quiver of the limb.
The gold youth rises
In the kiss
In the song
And the glimmering crown of the sun.

Fight off fancy,
And fortune will come
In the squish
In the pull
And the salty fingers of the sea.
Trembles of silver ring
In the shiver
In the breath
And the quiver of the limb.
The gold youth rises
In the kiss
In the song
And the glimmering crown of the sun.

Catcalls for cattails

The river speaks
In low river grumbles
As low as the rush
Of wind swept tree mumbles
And the sky streaks
As passerby cloud tumbles
And upon my tush
I sit in grassy brumbles.

White light

The demons crawl in
The battle begins
Find the white light
wherever it may be

Look up at the sky full of snow
Slowly, the little whites fall on my face
Let them gather.
Laying, they form the mountain of me
I am the white mountains
I am the one that can’t be moved
I am the crest that sees the trees upon my breast
In their white winter coats
And I will hold the dark demons at bay.

Through the night,
The sky holds all
Looking up,
I find my place between bright lights
I am the star
That radiates
I am the heat
That consumes

Demons be damned,
I will scratch and I will bite.

I am the seashell by the shore
I am the empty shell of days to come.

Won’t you hold me to your ear— hear my whispers of the ocean’s growing tide?
Won’t you blow into me— fill me with hot air for the trumpet sound?
Won’t you hold me— so tight that I shatter?
Won’t you cast me to the waves— feel the hair on your arm raise as the blows tear my edges away?
Sally, won’t you buy me?
Sally, won’t you sell me?

I am the carcass of things to be.

We will search the world over
In hopes of finding that one
To sit with us
At the quieting of day.