(For Black History Month 1998)
i have a wish
to be profound...
to be proud and stronger
and carry myself like the **** poets on Def Jam
voices of Kenya and kings, emblazoned
with wisdom, respected / permanence
tanned in words of Malcolm & Martin's reign...
to have passions of Nubian queens
wear a crown to herald my approach
head held high
without raising a calloused hand,
copper polished hearts
A presence that only demands simplistic
of silences in the awe, the inspired
unchallenged in my reverence--an African / American ability
choreography / invention
the first to dance, when others fear to
to keep it real and say it loud
my human wishes, strong, profound, proud...
i wanna be black...
like King Cobra, a hood to umbrella fright
with venom from just my stereotypical sight
immobilize and paint caucasians whiter
to be well endowed yet humbly
angry but with proven reasons unrequited,
to be singled out by mere appearance
alone, a Halley Berry poster, child - dealing drugs,
respected yet in the poetry of chains
creative even in these multi-colored pains
from a thousand lands of strife
music is sister, artistic is brother life
saxophones in the moody blues,
athlete of hurtles, jazz / boxing fights / sang...
gold medals, worthy for full frontal
do i amuse you, with these longings?
think do you - it's a cursed delight?
but life only
excels with each challenge: our battles
against ignorance / shame defines
the worth we're given
our lot mostly restricted, our lions tamed
perseveres - tho' weep the dust of our ancients names,
and bleeds these,
our cotton soft truths some mistakes
and Dolby stereotypes revealed
now worn like brand new:
a garden painted stronger
roots - and robes of shackles' / thorns
sharp with unlocked prejudices
brown can do no more (for you sir)
criminal confidences find the unmoving wave of faith
a prominent jaw-line, obelisk-lips
kiss and smack / wet with loving lengths
it is ... no hurt in these earthen eyes
stoic, strength, serenity
mine to dance and sing my apathy instead...
about the history, i wish to dis
empty empathies before,
experience my thousands, marching
Melato’s at the founding fathers' doors, will show
you how to open house
these ghettos of / our violent villages / of tar & soot
shadow our poor ever the more
our stars shine on
broadway be our stage / Stomps / in the heart, hopes,
styles rap / songs to battle racial profiles
racial cops in devil blue,
beating brothas, home video tell our news,
while our rich forget the rest
******* **** in their cribs
re-pimped, yes, ******* new money & *****
of course, they are the talented ...
almost gods on Apollo / knock on wood...
the music is still
the song still is
the foot is stampeding
the noise will be loud,
i will be proud
i will be profound
in this time of redefinition,
i will be strong
(i wanna be black) like Etta James