Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Rage/Grief

I never want to go to another rally where we play the same rhetorical political games with the same mouths that speak the same language as the system that can justify 

justify, justify.

I want to build a bonfire. And I want the drums to beat. And I want ululation instead of words. I want to call on our backbones. I want to watch skittles simmer in the heat. I want to wail

for every gunshot that's ever carelessly left its home and found tender flesh in a black man

I want to scream for every black woman who has left pieces of her soul on the ground. I want to

hear a silence so fierce it mirrors the
tension I have in my shoulder
blades from being an agreeable negress.

I want to slice that silence with a roar that echoes in the past so loud that my ancestors bones wake 

from the bottom of the ocean and come dance round the bonfire.

I want to split the world open a million times for every girl 
 cut
and sewn shut with razors, glass or words

I want to pound the earth with my fists until the moon trembles

I want words that don't mean shit to become extinct

I want the core of the earth to spew lava on every lie ever told about
black folks

I'm fucking pissed

I want all my children back
and in their right minds

I want to roll in the ashes of the fire and wail
until this grief floods the world 
and we realize what the fuck is really going on

I want us to stop being spectators to real hunger games
and get real intimate with the depths of our own souls
so we can be fucking human
instead of input/output machines.

This is not an extensive list of my demands. more later. 


1 comment: