I have been in skin of wolf all my kitten life
Your sister is getting an attack, help her surrender
Your ****** is bleeding
Save the world red
Unite the blood of Eve and perform monthly
have daily routine of keeping melanated to the cleanest groom
oil your crown
oil your skin
wash your bedding
do your thing
have it your way
you are royal
you are royal
bow your head
give thanks
and conquer
                    I have been in the skin of wolf all my kitten life
                    never little
                    never naïve
                    never broken
                    a shapeshifting ******
                    with eyes of enchanting love and paws that hold power
                    of goddesses and queens before I
                    spoke myself into reality
                    wrapped with stars on my spine and the moon and mars as my eyes
I have always seen the wolf inside my kitten skin all my life
wrapped in grace some call it woman
wrapped in mastery some call god
allah
Adonai
Mother Mary
Anetha
Medunsa
surrendered to love,
fully submitted into intuition.
I am every. I am all.

She is A Queen
She's something special, similar to a candy coated dream.
The God in her will sooth you soul as if you were Listening To the sound of the rushing river Streams
Her spirit Shines brighter than a car's high Beams.
Her love is sweeter than brown sugar
And Me oh my she is Looker
Her big chestnut sultry eyes reveals the beauty of Her soul inside.
I can just smell the aroma of her Shea butter and coconut fragranced skin as it glows due to her internal flame shinning within.
Cocoa Brown is the color of her melanated Bronze complexion.
Man, her smile drives me wild.
That luminous smile, her glorious smile, is as gorgeous as the clouds when she shows her pearly whites.
It brightens my day like a lamp in the darkness of the night.
And her mind Is a secret treasure That only her King Can discover and uncover the bountiful mountains he'll climb.
She's Artistic and Musically Inclined
And at the drop of a dime shell bust out in A poetic rhyme
And her words, Gosh her blissfully profoundly spoken words, will send chills up your spine
She's My own little personal ray of sunshine
Radiating truth and her words are so kind
She's simply divine
She's a peacemaker staying serene
From the inside out she is a beautiful Human being
She's good for your mental hygiene
Kinda like how your body needs protein.
Royalty is embedded in DNA gene
And her crown is made of lustrous flowing locks shining like oil sheen.
She is Royalty, She's My sister from another Mister, She is an Unshaken, Strong, melanized Beautiful Queen.

I was first born a solar system.

Living in a realm where I wheezed stars and suns. My eyes, black holes to a new universe.
It was a time where planets burst from my belly and latched onto my ******* - no longer hiding in my vortex of a womb.

The world swung around my neck heavily. Steadily, I adorned my fate gracefully...

...because I was born second a mountain.
My hips creating hills and heaps while my tears birthed oceans. I carried the crescent moon in my left eye - Venus in my right.

And often times, I’d shape shift and kneel to the ground, grabbing the soil of the earth.
Its mud, dancing under my nails and knuckles. Its dust, smouldering the creases between my palms.
Sand, caressing and matching the tones of my skin. Accenting hues from the palette of eternal life.

My mouth, birthing spirits and spells. Souls - mining from my ribs.
My womb, carrying ancestors and avatars - Coloured girls glowing in browns, blacks, purples and blues.
Their nebula personifying secrets from Zion as they break through the realm between my legs.

As I continue to carry my message in the wind; breathing life into lifelessness;
narrating stories of hope in times of hopelessness; morphing my magic across the abyss.

I was born third a Nubian.
A Maasai, I am the one they call MAKEBA.

Walking these townships streets as though diamonds lay at my feet.
Gliding on gravel from the ghetto to Greece. Leaving behind a fragrance so sweet.

Blessing the unblessed even when left distressed. Honoring the feminine power that flows within me. The roaring lioness! Smell the audacity of my celestial essence. I am the first to bleed, but last to fall – the S forever embroidered on my breast.

For I am you and you are her and we are She! MAKEBA!

Inkosazana. The melanated fruit that you seek. You stare in disbelief at these words that I conceive.

Sheba!

Ke mang a tshwara thipa ka bogaleng? Ke mang afang botho mo batho ba hlokang motho? Ngubani le mbogodo elingabambeki?

Beka!

My eyes, carrying alchemy.
My smile, a treasury. My skin, reflecting the origin of humanity.

I am, MAKEBA

It was a shiny tear that rolled down her melanated cheek as she uttered the words "maybe next lifetime". I respected it, however; it was that very moment I wished lightening struck us both dead.

All I need to do is look into one's eyes, instantly I can tell whose who;
as i walk those dark matter halls
following your spirals in reverse
I AM mindful of what might become unearthed.
You fit into a category called the 1/3rd's,
where codes are locked in the CONtext of vague words,
only a few will embark on the conquest Unknowing what the outcome is worth,
best believe true reality is sweeter than 5 star desserts.
I ve entered the realm of no returns,,,
you know it as the plane of imagination, think; what if mere words of persuasion could eradicate any ultimatum on all occasions?
The main goal is to become highly melanated.
Otherwise, them other guys can get ******, stuck in that basin. (aka ''3D'' box)

The wind doesn’t blow through their hair like it does the others.

It meanders through the curls of our melanated mothers.

It carries heavy accents infused with both love and suffering

over badly connected telephone lines

and the language barriers of anglocentric confines.

It navigates their thick 4c forests

as do the rigid combs they brandish to govern expanding crowns

that sit above scalps which resemble

the most polished oak.

Jealousy is an emotion i’ve found myself experiencing more
and more when i’m around you, my love. i know you don’t
understand what’s going through my head whenever you
talk to another girl, even when i know there’s no possible
way you would ever even give her a chance. i don’t fear you
being taken away from me, as you were never mine to begin
with. i’ve never even hinted at the fact that i’m falling for you,
therefore, i have no right to claim you as my own. however,
i would be lying if i said it didn’t hurt when you pay more
attention to other people, rather than giving me the love
and praise that i crave. what happened to you saying hi to
me when we pass each other? what happened to our little
jokes and petty arguments? what changed?

Everything about you still manages to make me feel warm
and fuzzy inside, despite the fact that we’ve grown apart
throughout the past few months. no, it hasn’t always been
like this. these feelings just creeped up on me, and then it
hit me. hard. i started noticing little things you do, like how
your melanated cheeks always become tinted with a red
hue when we talk. i steered clear of topics that clearly made
you uncomfortable, and tried to talk about other, sillier things.
i noticed how often you play with your hair, the gold chain
around your neck, and i noticed that you practically
get the same thing for lunch everyday. i noticed, believe me.

Rejection is one of my biggest fears, which is why i haven’t
told you about my little crush on you yet, my dear. for, living
in my pathetic fantasies of us, together, is not a risk to my
social life. however, if i were to finally tell you what i truly
feel, you would have every right to laugh in my face. i would
feel ashamed, and i wouldn’t know what to do. heartbreak
is not something i think i can bare to deal with right now.

Us, together, in my daydreams, is how i will cope. i will
continue daydreaming, and you will never know how
i feel. i will continue fantasizing about cuddling with you,
under a warm blanket while pretending to watch some
random cartoon that neither of us truly care about. all
we would truly care about, in that moment, would be
each other. for we are the last missing pieces in the
puzzle called life, and in that moment, we are finally
happy. and safe. and whole.

None of this will ever happen, though. as you do not
feel the same way i feel, and i am far too much of a
***** to admit i have these feelings.

Dylan’s roof covers your house supposedly,
But you can’t go through the front door,
you don’t even have a key.

You see, Dylan’s roof covers your head
ever so reluctantly
But Dylan won’t kick you out,
you were brought here to work for free.

Dylan doesn’t like you
or anyone with your complexion
But Dylan won’t admit it,
he’d rather ‘serve and protect’ his brethren.
By serve and protect I mean swerve and reject.
Any responsibility for a bullet in your chest.

You see, Dylan’s roof doesn’t just cover 52 states
It covers millions of your reflection
that share melanated traits.

The windows under Dylan’s roof give you a glimpse of your potential.
Freedom and happiness.
You trace the future with a stencil.

After some time,
Dylan’s roof will start to dissipate.
The rains of your liberation
will begin to precipitate.

The seeds that were planted
by the ones gone before us,
will start to germinate
in the fields that once tore us

Crack the whip again, make me see the cultural defeat.
And as I breathe help me understand.  Why, within my shaking hands.
I can feel the relapse of my bated breath, at this point I don’t know what’s left.
My screams are nothing. Even as my blood within the soil says something.
It teaches a powerful lesson. That even as centuries progress slavery is still a weapon.
The pain I feel never delays, doesn’t even fade away. Because as I retie my shirt, it’s still stained within my hurt. They look at me indifferent. Not because of me limping. My melanated skin. Is what determines my fate, even without my own sin. I was born into a loving family. My only regret is them not informing me of my reality. I can see the difference now, between me and you. Even 200 years later, you have a judgment free path to choose. I used to view my skin as a scar. Separating me from who I really want to be. But once I saw my little girls killed in my own car. It changed my knowledge of who you really are. You are missing a chunk of empathy. Something that’s lost to me. How a person so alike me but so different can commit an act so belligerent. I once wanted to be you. Now that’s a thought I can’t even begin to chew. That’s when I was reminded that we are different. Please listen, I try to cringe on the sour taste of liking you. I was stuck to the binding of it like glue. Now I realize what I was doing. I seemed to be willingly choosing to invite the devil into my home. No More!!!
Loving you was a exhausted chore. One I kept repeating, only thinking your heart would start beating.