To to mama wata, the iyami, the primordial mothers of the creator, the red black and green of africa, the quiet warriors in swamps of seminole, the geechee/gullah on islands of rice and cracks of whip, the the sarah’s on underground railroads, the irish quakers with abolitionist maps, the preachers and poets, the singers and black banjo players, the ida b. wells a man was lynched today, the howard thurmans in the silence of blackness and the disinherited jesus, to the gay commie bayard rustin, the full self audre lorde, the face smashed but light in tact fannie lou hamer, the children first ella baker,to spit talkin’ amiri baraka, to the black chinese giant grace lee boggs, woman and man kari edwards, teacher of dreads akilah oliver, and to the justice seer vincent harding, i hear where my grandmother is from, i see her
I see you in the depths of the belly
I see you on the slave block
I see you cutting your hands on cotton
I see you take those whips like a good nigga
I see you hiding the names of our gods in our songs and writing the words of the drum on our hearts
I see you drinking to forget the child sold down the river
I see you uncle tomming the hurt of your wife taken by massuh nightly
I see you stealing literacy
I see you writing the map to freedom in blood
I see you sanctifying nature with your strange fruit
And to the
People who think they white
I reverse engineered your dog whistle
Donald trump doesn’t care
About white people
When mama gaia gets a fever
You will burn in the fire next time
Like the rest of us
Your ancestral savior, john brown, knew that
And went flame retardant
But you stand in picket lines
For potus
And tweet a petition
You excommunicate your grandmother
On facebook
Cause she made the same choice
You would have in her shoes
You speak with someone else’s voice
But neglect your own
You’ve left your ancestors
In the old world and stole
New ones
Which you promptly burned
On magazine covers
You buried the magic of herbs and roots
Dig it up again
And sell all your belongings
Back to the credit card company
That leased them to you
In exchange for your slave ships
And amistad friendships
Like we did before
The irish were exploited
For their desperation
In a world built on hate
So we can halt the machine
Of our inevitable demise
And to the
Peple who think they black
I got my race card dog whistle
Let’s go back to africa again
Where gods and goddesses look like us
Dark and queer as hell
Let’s go to the lynching tree
And heal her roots
Let’s shut up already and
Talk with drums again
Let’s dial 1.900.save.a.coon
Let’s have days celebrating
Some black folkx
Other than mlk
This lawrence fiery kansas
On langston hughes day
We whisper rivers
In the ears of our elders
Our words kiss black skin
On tiger dowdell day
We wear black gloves
And speak only black love
We pour liquor to
Martyrs of the
Cop’s gun
Erect monuments to
Black potential snuffed
And relit
What was snuffed
Get lit
Get lit
Ashe almighty
Ma the world
Get lit
