So you fancy huh??? You, you go to Baylor & you pay awwwlllat money & ya got ya live bears right across the street & you think you something huh kid???
Well newsflash baby, you ain’t NEHHTHIN in comparison to what ya ancestors did
See you traded THEIR chains for YOUR chains & have the nerve to thing the game dun changed
You traded THEIR chains for [[wrist]] YOUR chains & have the nerve to think you dun changed the whole entire game
Oh you fancy now-- but wait…
Hanging from a tree does not make you a monkey-- did you get that???
No matter whether or not you choose to behave like it, you are always and forever royalty.
It only lies dormant, sleeping under your skin
like volcanoes waiting to erupt with destructive new life, hibernating like sleeping bears waiting to roar again
Yes under YOUR skin—all shades of brown and ahh yesss its most precious hue! the rich plum brown, or chocolate some of us like to call it J -- resembling the deep velvet purple robes you used to wear
See, young sir, you are not dark as midnight blacks & blues, you are not a bruise—you’re a raisin in the sun… a dream deferred… & we are just waiting for you to explode like #static #defibrillator
#PAUSE! Have you ever noticed Africa’s shaped kinda like a... broken heart?
#PLAY! See it used to pump strong & powerful the pulse of this world until yall got all sadity & otherworldly & forgot where you came from & so now your heads & your hearts are always conflicted, throwing off your equilibriums/ see you got a foot in the door & one leg in the grave, & in your hearts you’re still enslaved & so every time it beats, the blood of your ancestors flows up to your brain in an effort to resurrect ancient memories
I use photos as flash cards to stimulate your occipital lobe so that maybe I can trigger something bigger in you/ something bigger THAN you/ baby things aren’t always what they seem/ you live double lives see—slavery in the streets but kings & queens live in your dreams!
you are more than corner boys & baby mamas/ your women were once queens & your men were once fathers/ and so that pain in your chest & that ache in your heart is for us/ So that maybe you can remember us/ so that maybe you can remember YOU/
For example--#FunFact-- we women are bottom heavy for a reason-- we carry the weight of the world in our wombs…
#PAUSE! Now hold your finger there & flip over to Africa. Picture it. Garden of eden, 2010 years ago ehh give or take a few & #POW! This continent births the world’s first man & woman… & now the weight of the world rests in her womb—
& like Haiti, she lies in wait for the return of her prodigal sons & daughters but we’re too busy doin our dirt like a horse led to the pond that refuses to drink the water & so we remain unconsciously thirsty because our subconscious knows what our hearts are too stubborn to believe like this cliché bling don’t make you a king just like lace fronts & weaves don’t make you a queen like there’s a reason we have such an affinity for the finer things & like wisdom i stand in the market places & scream! For you. & my heart bleeds! For you.
& so I wrote this poem in hopes of starting a rumor in your hippocampus & maybe he’ll whisper a lil sumn sumn to ya parietal lobe that maybe navigates you back to me where you belong
but from the blank stare in your eyes I’m thinkin maybe I was wrong but… that’s okay…
because that dull ache of a displaced ancestry never really goes away…
& since from dust you came, it’s where you’re headed anyway I promise to GOD we WILL be reunited again, in this life or the next, some day.