I am a *****
I say it with pride
I cannot my colour hide
its radiant blackness does glow.
I am tropically designed,
and from taunts I am resigned.
I love my natural label,
it rings my pride like a bell.
My frame is black and lovely,
I am feminine and curvy.
My rare Baartman's curves are awesome,
despite my colour being 'loathsome.'
My labour in the scorching field
was worth a trans-Atlantic risk.
I enriched the west with my yield.
My hard labour did slip my disc.
I am Africa's black gold,
and on this heritage I hold.
I am black and proudly so,
that is who I am, a *****!!

words can stand empty like shrines of gods forgotten
and cave rooms inhabited by nothing
but stones and decay
people die
and fade as flowers do in anticipation
and then winter comes
things fall to the same dust
from which we were made and shall return
so to you who go before us; unafraid
I wish love was enough
to bring back the soul and make it marry body again
so that two can become one
and breathe life into you again
to make the world and this vacuum created
whole again
I love you even beyond death
and life itself
sway and sail away into the light
where you shall be clothed with warmth the world knows nothing about
- nothing left to say

This ring,
He gave it to me, you know.
It came as a surprise,
On a day so right,
On a morning so white,
With Clouds so blue,
Just at the right time.
I, a flower, opening up its petals,
To the golden morning sun.
There it was,
There, in its greatness,
A delicately cut metal,
With a beautifully designed pink symmetrical stone,
A literal piece of art, oozing radiation.
It’s luminosity never seizes,
To synthesize my flowery heart.
Let me hold on to you,
Dear Source of light,
For you are,
A constant reminder of the moment, I said
“YES, I WILL FOREVER BE YOURS” to infinity,
As the Heavens and Nature rallied around You and Me.
Around Us, to witness, our two-become-one.

Into reading, a lot
probably introverted
weird is good in my book
I am serious like that...
Cook like crazy
Pen in hand is how I function
The University of Wolverhampton builds artists
some fix broken bones, mend hearts, build technology from scratch
I speak truths in worded lines at night when the world is an endless sea of tranquillity
life is exhausting
everyday is leg day when you are running away from things that keep you awake at night.
some call them problems. we all have them, you are not alone.
take a break, smile it is ok if your body is not what God's are made of. food nourishes. give your heart What it needs, be compassionate, be human, smile more...
A smile just makes life a little easier, doesn't it?
If you can't on your own, wine does the trick too
Let's paint a new story together.. music in the air. Lips, they speak truth to existence and kiss body parts... they tell us, "we can" ... and then, "we believe" ...
It starts with a "hi, hello, how are you?" ... see you on the other side where people are REAL! ... it is true, uncommon valor was a common virtue in the good old days. Not so much, today.
Sincerely,

Zuri

I needed a minute;
to stand in the rain,
to feel it’s droplets toss and slide down my face,
to allow me to be washed clean of sin,
to be one with nature,
earth and the heavens,
to be kissed by the rain in all the right places.
I felt it’s every kiss on my skin
Cold, no doubt its kisses were but nevertheless magical.
As I stood there with feet planted into the ground and soaked to the core,
I thought; I am a tree planted on fertile soil with roots extending deep into mother earth.
Why should I not thrive?
this right here is FREEDOM,
I live!

lonely is YOU
when you are not comfortable with yourself
and
the things about you that make people ask questions
that make you question
the very essence
that is YOU.
but
lonely can also
be you accepting YOU because you finally realize
it is ok to be you in your own skin
because
you are enough

man
woman
a mat on a floor at night
from them, I came
hips cracked open
like earth gives way for tinny little
green crops to emerge
dreams are feathers
ideas too
they come from nothing
and then they grow
while we walk over troubled waters
I grew in stride inside a god
she was woman
and the earth
her *****
mother
let me be magic
an army of a thousand marching
in full-force through winds and earth plains
shattering glass ceilings
like my ancestors did before me
let me walk in their ashes
let my feet be sanctified
I will cross every bridge they built
I will walk in purpose
I walk in thousands
it is what you believe
that you see
because they were
I AM!

My black has roamed the earth since the beginning of time. And even before the biblical earth was created.
Before civilization became mainstream and hungry European limbs raced for a stake in Africa.
My black existed even before the term "*****" was coined in the 1800s to name me into a corner with property, beasts, and things that crawl the earth.
Before the exploration of Sub-Saharan Africa in the 15th century, during the Age of Discovery, my black thrived and survived.
Even then, we were more than just bodies existing. It meant something. We meant something to our families and friends and communities. We were nations of tribes and cities on rich and fertile soil, with traditions and cultures where women ran and led families and armies. Where babies became land-owners at birth. And trees sang their names to the skies in celebration.
You see, my black is progressive.
My black was never stronger than it is now.
I won’t break, no matter how hard they try to subjugate me.
They will not succeed, they shall not.
My black shall conquer any injustices committed against me.
My black is God-given and me, thus my black is unapologetic.
My black is strong.
My black is multi-dimensional, complicated, and many different things beyond the color of my skin or the nature of my ***** hair.
my black and I are more than just my ethnicity or race.
My black is stronger than every standard of beauty I am forced to live up to.
My black is human and compassionate.
My black gives me the power I need, to step into my own peculiar trajectory and destiny.
I do not blame them, for not being able to understand my black, because it took me a long time, to fully comprehend, accept, and step into the power of my blackness.
Now that I do, I am unashamed and proud of who and what I am in my blackness.
They may try to enslave and keep me in darkness and ******* but like a phoenix from the ashes, my black shall rise and prevail.
My voice will be heard.
They may shoot me, spite me and even dismiss me all they want but still, they will never **** my black.
Even in despair, my blackness comforts me.
My black is too strong to be broken.
And I am Valid.

"I don't want you to think I'm racist. I love black people! I just hate *******."
Now, you will not believe how many people have said this to my face.
That they smile, thinking themselves so eloquent and clever,
Illustrates a problem to me much larger than the hatred of a race.

My tongue stays. I wouldn't want my "angry ******" to show her teeth.
She would ask if the color or the speech or the level of poverty made the black,
Or the ****** or the ***** or the **** or monkey or beast.
She may be eloquent and clever herself, but those white ears would never hear that.

We are conditioned to be blind and deaf and loudly ignorant to reality.
The rich and powerful have made us starkly numb to our own folly and pride,
So that we may believe ourselves to be indignant most righteously,
While we unconsciously hate all that is different, opposed, other, outside.

But I will be the same human with all my eloquence and cleverness, pride and folly,
Whether I am seen as "black" or "******" or maybe simply just "Cydney"