Before I understood the purpose and function of my pussy
I understood the distinction and importance of my skin
My womanhood, thou never perceived as insignificant, was overcast
It was pushed to the side, put on hold, paused if you will
For the greatest treasure was hidden in the richness of my flesh
Within every inch of this caramel silk bleeds a tale written in crimson
There is a history locked away within the fiber of my very fingertips
Muscles matured over centuries of plight show visibly in my jaw when I speak
Rhythm pounds and thumps in the sway of my hips and balls of my feet
They ask me, should the blackness be feared? I often reply, hell yeah! with exuberance and purpose. They believe they know why fear strikes their hearts when we gather and swarm but I can assure them that they do not. Blackness, were it to be defined, is the epitome of struggle. It is an ever-evolving, ever-confounding, ever-resounding mechanism fueled by power, pain, love, and knowledge. It is a entity of solidarity that can achieve and overcome; it has no master therefore it has no rules. This is why it is to be feared.
Do not look into the face of a black man and fear for the longevity of your life. If you should choose to fear, fear for the disillusioned condition and blind state of the reality that you call your life. The falsehoods that you believe to be truth, will be shattered by raised fists and written word. The bullshit that you feed to those who came before will be stripped and exposed for the monsterous villanery that they are. We know far more than you wish us to, and we are no longer afraid to scream it to the winds to make sure the message gets through. We have found our solidarity and within it, laying dormant, our ability to mold the world.
Need not fear the gun, fear the sharpness of our tongue.
Fear the questioning eyes of our young.
Fear our working mothers and fathers.
Fear our creative princesses and wordsmith princes.
Fear our poetic chanters and organic chefs.
Fear our foul-mouthed ladies
Fear our soft-spoken thugs.
Fear the roar of our femme warriors.
Fear the relentless tact of our king scholars.
Fear our melodic conference.
Fear our digital rebellion.
We are the rich. We are wealthy. We are powerful beyond belief.
We can spend without concern for our deposit runs deep.
Yes, there is reason to fear
Reason to tremble and brace
For the black gold is buring and rising
And it bring visions you may not be ready to behold
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