ASA poem-- ORIGINAL/ ROUGH DRAFT VERSION

ok so this is the ORIGINAL as the title implies lol but i had to make it shorter to fit in ASA's time slot so i chopped & screwed it to make version DOS which is the note before this. but i really wanna combine the two-- with this beginning, same middle & ending of the other one.

WELCOME TO AFRICA—LAND OF THE KINGS SAFARI TOUR!   WE HAVE ZEBRAS, WILDEBEAST, GIRAFFES, TIMON & PUMBAA & LOTS & LOTS OF [[MONKEYS]]!—*GASP! SHH… LOOK! OVA HE-UH WE HAVE A MAMA LIONESS & HUH BABY CUBS RESTING IN THE SHADE J …

hmm… is THIS what they really think of us???

Safari tours & loin cloths & aye aye aye aye aye #ShootsTranquilizer…

When did we demote ourselves from kings & queens to monkey court jesters??? when did we trade Ankara & native…  for baggy slacks and burlap sacks, our native tongue for these broken obscenities, our homes & our families for the things of this world… see

We traded chains for chains & have the nerve to thing the game dun changed

#YallAinthearinMe--

We traded chains for [[wrist]] chains & have the nerve to think the game dun changed but wait…

Hanging from a tree does not make you a monkey [anymore than eating a banana makes you a nigga] do yall hear me???

No matter whether or not we chose to behave like it, we are always and forever royalty.

It only lies dormant, sleeping under our skin

like volcanoes waiting to erupt with destructive new life, hibernating like sleeping bears waiting to roar again

Yes under OUR 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 we 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

CLEAR! #StartPulse

#PAUSE! Have you ever noticed Africa’s shaped kinda like a... broken heart?

See it used to pump strong & powerful the pulse of this world until we got all sadity & otherworldly & forgot where we came from & so now our heads & our hearts are always conflicted, throwing off our equilibriums/ we got a foot in the door & one leg in the grave, & in our hearts we are still enslaved & so every time it beats, the blood of our ancestors flows up to our brains 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/ we live double lives see—slavery in the streets but kings & queens live in our dreams!

See we are more than corner boys & baby mamas/ our women were once queens & our 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 & 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

So who am i?

Well they make me out to be some poverty stricken continent forsaken by God but, right now…

I’m just the ache of ancestry in your temporal lobe…

Trying to re-invigorate the pride of a displaced people in your heart…

Is that alriiight?/// or & I guess that’s the start #kanyeshrug

[[idk which to end it with just yet]]