We’re The Klan Decked Out In Blue!


Today, I gave you a hug.

You’re young, but you’re still a thug.

There’ll be another day and time,

when I’ll arrest you for a crime.

A few years down the road,

our lives just might explode.

If I see you on a bad day,

there could be hell to pay.

Don’t expect a hug from me.

I’ll use a bullet to set you free.

With tears streaming down your face.

you’ll take your rightful place,

among your brothers; dead!

Like you, their blood I shed.

You see, I’m just like Wilson,

and yes, I got a reason.

We both are two of a kind.

Our thoughts are intertwined.

We’re the Klan decked out in Blue.

And like Wilson, I’d kill you too!

Written by,

Shelby I. Courtland

©2014 Shelby I. Courtland


 Encounter at protest leads to hug for boy, officer

An African-American boy holding a “Free Hugs” sign stood crying in front of a police barricade at a Ferguson protest rally in Portland. A white police officer motioned for him to come closer. The officer then asked the boy for a hug — and they embraced, the boy’s anguished face streaming with tears.

 12-year-old Devonte Hart and Portland Police Sgt. Bret Barnum

Earlier that week, when an officer posted on Facebook a badge of the Portland Police Bureau with an “I am Darren Wilson” banner, Barnum had “liked” the post. The officers were later ordered to remove the images and the matter is under an internal investigation.

Barnum said he “liked” the image out of solidarity for the police profession, not because he supports Wilson.


How touching! I just hope that in a few years, Devonte Hart’s not lying on a street in Portland with his blood seeping out of him while Sgt. Barnum who ‘liked’ “I am Darren Wilson,” is not standing over Devonte’s lifeless body saying, “I shot him out of ‘solidarity’ for the police profession’ is all!”




While You Live A Life Of Privilege…

lavish spending

While you sleep the sleep of the dead,
a child in Africa has no bed.

While you buy your Starbucks coffee,
a mother in Gaza holds her child’s dead body.

While you tweet about Miley’s twerk,
a stressed out soldier just went berserk.

While you gas up the SUV,
fuel tanks burn in Tripoli.

While you head to lunch at noon,
the CIA trains another goon.

While you shop with your credit card,
in Iraq, live the battle scarred.

While you take your dog for a walk,
at a homeless vet, you merely gawk.

While you live a life of privilege,
your whole world is a distorted image.

While you shy away from life,
into our world, evil twists the knife.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2014 Shelby I. Courtland

Run Wild And Free!


Search deep inside your soul.
Unlock the purity of your spirit.
Watch it spread its wings and soar,
as you let go of hate and fear.
Turn the tide and embrace love
And watch the darkness fade away.
Peace will be yours to know.
The light of love will begin to grow.
And the child you used to be,
shall once again, run wild and free.

This one forced its way out and I for one am glad that it did because it is needed FOR me. Recently, I have written much on hate and blame and the horrors of what many people are facing, but I must also realize that only ‘love’ can bring us all together. We must strive for love. We must look inside ourselves and find that purity that we were all born with. We were once so innocent and we were taught hate and evil and all things dark. We must somehow find our way out of the darkness. I know only too well that when we look around, all we see is darkness but it should not consume us. As long as we are alive, there is always a chance at new beginnings. If the rulers of this world refuse to look for love, then we will.

Peace and blessings to each and every one of you and please, try and spread love!

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2014 Shelby I. Courtland

For every…..

Five years and sixty-five days of evil and it shows!
Five years and sixty-five days of evil and it shows!

For every drone strike that you authorize,

For every detainee denied due process,

For every country that you sanction,

For every coup that you initiate,

For every hungry child in America,

For every homeless soul on the street,

For every senior choosing medicine over food,

For every whistleblower imprisoned or in exile,

For every death that is the result of your policies,

For every person who went to the polls and voted

For hope and change and for a better America,

And got screwed, here’s looking at you, MURDERER!

And may the dead continue to plow deep lines into

Your motherfucking punk ass bitch puppet face!

Now Fuck YOU!

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2014 Shelby I. Courtland

“Oh Child of Mine!”


Oh child of mine, what have they done?
My baby was killed, you murdered my son.

With a broken heart, I search for answers.
There are none, just lots of questions.

How can it be right to gun down my child?
Then sit and grin and laugh all the while.
Throwing what you’ve done back in my face.
Letting me know what you think of my race.

Others are in prison for doing much less.
You murdered my child, I heard you confess.

You’re free as a bird and my baby is dead.
We only have your version of all that was said.
You could lie to our face and not be bothered a bit.
No worries you had, you knew they’d acquit.

Justice was served? How and when?
To murder, I thought, was the ultimate sin.
So, you’ll get your gun back and do it again.
Stand your ground, let the killing begin.

There are those in prison, who are on death row.
For doing the same, but they let you go.
Why are you different? Why are you immune?
The son of a judge won’t dance to that tune.
No death row you’ll see, no that’s not for you.
No bars, no steel cage, not a courtyard view.
How special you are, the privileged few.

You’re the spawn of a judge and racist to the core,
who can gun down a child and go looking for more.


Written by,

Shelby I. Courtland
© 2013 Shelby I. Courtland

I wrote the above poem because Trayvon Martin could have been ‘a child of mine’. I have a son who is just a little older than Trayvon would have been, had he not been murdered and words cannot express how I feel because as much as I love my son, will always love my son, I thought that I could not love him more, but I do and I am more fearful than ever for his safety and wish he was just a babe in my arms and would always remain so because then I would know that he is safe. He understands why I worry. He has experienced racism and a more peace loving man, you could not find. I refuse to accept the ‘open season on young Black men’ as a done deal. I refuse to accept that white men are not content with hunting deer, but are now passing laws to make it legal to go on the hunt for our children, to gun them down and walk away. Another notch on their gun. Another trophy. It is not enough that the ‘grand old racist white man’s club’ has disproportionately incarcerated young Black men to the point where they’ve basically brought back slavery in the form of the Prison Industrial Complex, they are now trying to murder the ones they’ve not incarcerated. I will fight back with every fiber of my being because no parent should have to go through what Trayvon Martin’s parents are going through, the senseless murder of their child, watching his murderer walk away, a free man. To anyone who has been asleep for the last several decades, if this is not a wake-up call, then you tell me what it is!

In Memory of Trayvon Martin

'A soul cries out for justice....justice that can never be served'.
‘A soul cries out for justice….for justice that will never be served’.

I have not been following the trial of the murderer of this young man because regardless of what the outcome will be, Trayvon Martin will still be dead. Bits and pieces have come to my attention since this trial is being watched by millions and from what I gather, once again, the fact of the ethnicity of the young man and that this was a key factor in why he is dead, is as usual swept aside. For those who want to believe that we live in a color-blind society, take your rose colored glasses off and stop being delusional. As long as my complexion is not your complexion, we will not see each other as equal, but will instead choose to see someone who is different and who will be judged accordingly. We are suspicious of each other because we will not accept our likenesses and our differences and embrace them. We choose to hate and be intolerant of each other. This is counterproductive in trying to establish a society where all are free and equal and that is why we have failed, miserably. And so I dedicate this to the memory of:

Trayvon Martin b.February 5, 1995 d.February 26, 2012

My heart is torn asunder. Another child is dead.
It was nothing that he did. It was nothing that he said.
Seventeen years old, your body young and strong,
felled by a bullet, in every way shot wrong.

Who could kill a child and call it self-defense?
This was not a mystery novel, filled with great suspense.
No crime did you commit. No thought that you’d be dead.
Little did you know, your blood would soon be shed.

They said you called for help. No one would heed your cry.
Their back to you they turned and left you there to die.

You will never again know your mother’s gentle touch,
as the bullet pierced your flesh. It didn’t take too much,
to stop your beating heart and turn your body cold.
But your mother’s love for you, never will grow old.

You’ll always be her baby. You’ll always be her child.
When she held you in her arms and you looked at her and smiled.
Sleep now in peace, dear one. Your time was all too short.
And those you leave behind must take it up in court.
No court can bring you home. No court can make you smile.
You’ll be headline news, if only for a while.

When you’re no longer newsworthy and we all cease to mourn.
Those who loved you true. Those who loved you best, will never, ever forget the day that you were born.

Written by,

Shelby I. Courtland
©2013 Shelby I. Courtland