Because real is real. Because right
is right. Because our plight depends
on what we know, who we know
Ourselves to be, despite the Orange
Monster’s warped psychology.

The promises he made voters to acquire
the presidency of this nation began fading
The moment he made them. You cannot
believe one word he says, but he has the nerve
to paint disrespectful pictures of you and
Mrs. Obama. It’s as if he wanted to create
Trauma for a couple who has long moved
past his ridiculousness, while millions of
us are witnesses.

It’s maniacal he’s still scared of
You relevancy Mr. Obama! He’s a
grown child who loves drama!

Because real is real, you will carry on
Without even a mention of his poor soul,
His childish games, his inability
To be sane. You will take the higher
road and ignore the ignoramus.

He’s tripping on his own feet hoping
to be notorious or famous.

Lame is what his name is!

Because real is real, remember he
Shared your Maryland address on
social media for millions to see?

You’re what he’s dying to be: stand-up,
solid, sophisticated, steady, unshaken.

Some white men will never awaken
To a life of true character, honor, dignity,
an ability to see beyond color my brother.

They are full of vitriol always seeking
monetary and financial victories. They lack
the inner light it takes to truly lead the people,
they’d rather be vindictive, fearful, and
evil.

I say this with all of my might and will.

And because, my former president,
real is real.

Christopher D. Sims
02/07/2026
All rights reserved

Race plays a key role in this story because in those areas closest to the McDonald’s I went to have a meal at, it is inhabited mostly by Black people, who are living in poverty. Their faces appear in news stories and in studies documenting who are the poorest people in Memphis. This stark reality has been evident and present since the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr’s economic justice work took place in the city of Memphis in the late 1960s.

As I entered, I noticed three young Black boys standing at the counter. They were trying to order, but didn’t have enough money for meals that would fill their stomachs. I watched as the worker kindly handed them cups of ice water, which was something, but not nearly enough.

Those Black boys, young Black boys, reminded me of young Black men whom I have written about previously in a poem I wrote called “Leroy And ‘Nem.” Their situations are the same. Just like the characters I write about in the poem, they were facing economic realities that local politics and policies rarely resolve or make an effort to address.

I couldn’t ignore what I was seeing. “Are y’all hungry?” I asked. All three looked up at me and nodded.

They told me what they wanted. I paid for their food and mine. The smiles on their faces said more than words could. They did thank me, but honestly, they didn’t have to.

As I walked or rode through Memphis that summer, I could see who was not getting what they needed economically and who was benefiting from the attention the well-to-do neighborhoods were receiving regularly. The faces of the people in the well-to-do neighborhoods were not Black faces.

That moment in McDonald’s taught me a lasting lesson, not just about poverty or hunger, but about proximity. I could afford dinner that night because of a brief pocket of financial relief. They couldn’t afford a meal at all.

The walk I took through my neighborhood every day passed two housing projects, dangerous sidewalks, and shattered glass. Behind me was Orange Mound, one of Memphis’s most historic neighborhoods — its resilience and challenges teaching me as much outside the classroom as I learned inside it.

Dr. King’s spirit moves through moments like these. I believe if he had been there in that McDonald’s, he would’ve done the same thing, and equity and equality in Memphis would look a lot different. We need transformational economic justice and racial justice policies in Memphis and nationwide.

I relocated to Minneapolis not long after May 25th, 2020. I can recall friends being especially concerned as I made my way to the Twin Cities area to take on a new job. For the reason that George Floyd lost his life there, I was interested in experiencing Minneapolis and what it felt like a few years later. I was interested in joining the fight and meeting local leaders and activists who stood on the frontlines protesting or marching seeking justice for his death.

My calling has been for the last fifteen years is to travel to the places where unrest fought to seek change and transformation in some of this country’s worst places to be a Black woman or a Black man.

As I write this refection, immediately what comes to mind is that we are moving backwards instead of forward in the fight for racial equity in the United States of America and beyond. As right wing politicians — and those who are MAGA — transform our democracy here in the US into something that is not at all recognizable as democracy — we are taking giant steps backwards as the president works daily on reversing protections and laws that have existed for decades — and were created and written for people like me.

For instance, his attack on DEI as well as trying to rid this country’s celebration of people such as baseball legend Jackie Robinson, is what the president of the United States wants his legacy to represent. We must also recognize his defunding of African American History museums and Harvard College for its stance. This is undemocratic and unpresidential behavior by a man who wants to be a king.

Hoping to wash away all of what the history of this country stands for is a slap in the face to racial justice and the Civil Rights Movement where lives have been lost or sacraficed. As we celebrate the 100th birthday of Malcolm X — a man who worked tirelessly for particularly Black people to live in a more just world — we on the other hand are trapped in policies and politics seeking to write another narrative of what has happened here. The contrast is stark. The future is dark unless we find ways to turn the president’s policies and practices around.

When I landed in Minneapolis and got myself semi-settled I made my way to George Floyd Square. Quiet and reflective, I took up all I could in that location in Minneapolis. I did not want to miss a thing as I walked slowly through the streets with murals and a makeshift donation structure where some of the activists and organizers made sure their presence is felt and the needy are taken care of.

A lot has happened since May 25th, 2020. We saw activists push for police reform and economic equity take place all over the country. We have experienced multiple protests and marches because of continued police violence and police brutality. The opposition to these progressive movements was hard to deal with for all of the people who dreamt of and fought for reforms that are much needed. And although some reform has come, we still have a long way to go. The reforms or laws that have been created fall very short of making sure Black communities are thriving and are protected from police terrorism.

A poem I wrote called Minneapolis Is Burning was featured on WNIJ Radio in northern Illinois while I gave it all I had to bring attention to what was happening as we protested against police brutality and police violence.

As a writer who is also an activist through his writings, I hope the poem is still being heard and is either informing or encouraging everyone who hears it to join the fight for racial equity and justice or continues to push those of us who are. Here is the link to the poem at WNIJ Poetically Yours — Ep. 1 — ‘Minneapolis Is Burning’ | Northern Public Radio: WNIJ and WNIU.

The journey continues. Georgy Floyd most certainly did not die in vain in Minneapolis, MN. As a Black man, writer, poet, social justice and anti-racism leader, it is my duty to continue to inform and introduce my readers as well as my following about the tragedies and travesties that continue to haunt us and take place in our neighborhoods and communities.

My prayer is that somehow, someway this country becomes brave enough to admit to how it has negatively shaped the lives of Black people and that it begins to provide us with reparations as well as create centers and safe spaces to help us heal from all of the wounds and the harms done unto us since we were stolen from Africa and brought to this wretched country.

For further education and information devised by myself, please visit these links:

• Anti-Racism Work in the White Liberal Social Justice Movement: A Leader’s Journey
• Pathways Towards A Racially Equitable United States: A Modern Day Blueprint
• At George Floyd Square: Imagine — A Poem by Christopher D. Sims
• The Revolution Will Not Be Jeopardized — A Retrospection By Christopher D. Sims
• The Christopher Sims Reader | Facebook | Linktree

the art of being black: a black man’s truth in poems — Poetizer.com

Freethinking Forum 10/20/19 “Poems of Black Manhood” by Christopher D. Sims — YouTube

True to the beauty, the power
Of you — in all of who you are,
what you do. Doing. Completing,
accomplishing. You are beyond
astonishing. This is more than
an homage. This is a psalm,
a song, a story, a sonnet.

I believe in you wholeheartedly.
The artist in me tries to paint,
to write, to sing, to record the
most appropiate piece of art
about you, for you, but even
the best Rembrandt is not
enough.

Black woman — so gifted.
Black woman — so prolific.
Black woman — so exquisite!

I have watched other women
Watch you walk into rooms
Completely consumed by
your amazingness. Your spirit
is a kiss to humanity, you are
humanity creating and recreating
life, love, language, breath, beauty,
the beyond.

Please forgive me for forgetting
To write poems or songs about
how remarkable you are, have been,
continue to be, will always be lasting
for eternity, infinity.

When other Black men fail
To let you know we need you,
I will take heed to your Goddessness,
your Greatness, your Groovyness.

Sometimes, for us Black men,
times get hard. We wind up
scarred. The world seems, feels,
bizarre. But you are our guiding
light. You are the correct voice
in the night. You are the song
we need to hear. You are the
empowring drum beat in our
bones, in our ears.

Fear the world, I will not. Not
when you are here, when you
are heard, when you are providing
the most powerful insight, words.

This here is meaning. These words
are motion, making there way into
the Galaxy of Truth. The truth of
who you are and what you be.
Ase’, ase’, ase’ queens!

Copyright Christopher Sims
All rights reserved