Inspired by the Negritude Movement poet, Leon Damas, I've written poetry analyzing historical and contemporary aspects of the black community. Comments appreciated.
Bringin’ Back Sweet Memories (For Assata Shakur)
Of course I remember you
African Queen
with your tight curly hair
worn large and with pride
born before my eyes
were first opened
Your neck long
your hands proud
the hills were saturated with your breath
as your toes curled in the grass
Now
trapped in political asylum
bounty on your head
dethroned
you are called a cold-blooded
murderer
Now
your neck twists
peering over the shoulders
that once held your head so high
your hands fidget, ache
nervously
waiting for them
to catch up to you
you, the domestic terrorist
you, the modern-day escaped slave
A daughter born in a prison cell
nurtured by her mother’s blood
spilled on the floor
waits for you
at home
remembering when you were free
free from rape
free from persecution
free
free
free
Your toes will curl on the grass once more
Thieves in the Night
The television buzzes illuminating our homes
after the sun which nourishes
our homeland has been extinguished
stealing from us with every passing minute
riding this wormhole
into purgatory
Entertain me
but only in caricature
Represent me
but only in caricature
Idolize yourself
caricature
Steal my ambitions and desires
emasculate me
turn me into a fetish
I will help you succeed
no matter what it takes
Lead me
to my destiny
to my grave
to Babylon
But make it simple to do
fabricate a persona that is easy to digest
render me unconcerned with struggle
construct a pacified community
I am a beast that needs to be tamed
and you have taught me to hate myself
Oscar Grant
So many times I am stunned and disgraced
as we are treated less than dogs
scraping bones
that were already picked clean
dying in numbers left uncounted
We rage and we rant at the inequalities of fate
against brutality waged upon us
against the institutions that keep us
now and tomorrow from being
human
And no consoling words
we have heard those before
no words can simmer our hatred quite so much
as a majestic mass
of rubble
made
from the buildings of our
own neighborhood
taking the power of fate
out of your gun-laden hands
and into ours
El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz
Our own black shining Prince
Facing east
Fighting for equality
Enough of economic exploitation
nightsticks busting our brother’s heads
cracking open skulls
to keep us in line
making money we never see
Enough of handouts
from hands outside our community
and colonialists in our government
and hypocrites in the churches
and leaders walking in circles
crying “We shall overcome! We shall
overcome!”
Our own black shining Prince
the ballot
or the bullet
Enough brothers and sisters without education
chasing fast dreams
fading away as easily as our men
bling-bling
and prison doors slamming
Enough for a while
of the individual needs
of turning the other cheek
of
nigga this
nigga that
Enough sit-ins
Stand up!
Enough non-violence
Defend your body!
Enough!
Illusions of Oasis
Only after your car has been jacked
for its 24s
will you finally get it
I know you’ll get it
once you stuff our prisons with your body
for selling crack to our youth
smoking themselves stupid
day in
day out
without end
Only after you have been shot by
a car full of men
no different from yourself
will you finally get it
I know you’ll get it soon
when your inferiority
pans out
amongst their justice system from end to end
and when
you see yourself
living in a cell
no freedom to do as you please
no longer pointing that pistol with an itchy finger
at a black man passing by
instead
taking cold showers
instead
taking orders from guards
instead
taking it from your cellmate
instead
cold showers
cold guards
hot cellmate
then
you will understand
that you are not a man
something much worse
Washed White
There are children starving in Africa
finish your food
But why are they starving?
Sit up straight and silent
finish your food
Tell me why
Don’t talk with food in your mouth
finish
finish
finish your food
I need to know why
Put your napkin on your lap
drink your milk
there are children in Africa
who would love to drink that milk you have
Why don’t they have milk?
Damnit boy –
look what you did
spilled your milk all over the table
I’m sorry!
I was thinking about the kids in Africa
If you ain’t gonna act proper
you ain’t gonna eat proper
finish your food, milk and all
there are starving children in Africa
who would lap up this milk
like savages
Oh!
I get it
they’re starving because they’re savages!
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