Black Poetry : the e"N"d word

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by eugene yeboah, Jun 27, 2012.

  1. eugene yeboah

    eugene yeboah Member MEMBER

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    From past to contemporary,
    we persistently use,
    that o heinous N word,
    the slave word of doom.

    The word degrades blackness,
    stained red with our blood,
    enthralled us like swine,
    our chains jingle in mud.
    400 years of unyielding toil,
    a twisted legacy ingrained in the soul.
    Murder, exploitation, insulting cajole,
    all influenced by servile role.

    How quick we neglect, our own brutal past,
    those lynch mobs,
    the blackface,
    iron branding flesh.
    Our freedom was stolen,
    humanity stripped,
    present reality: pipes and big hips.

    Our women defiled, our children sold,
    our men castrated, the soul became cold.
    Forced to till fields, pick cotton by whip,
    the overseer has changed forms
    & he carries a nightstick.
    Viewed as animals, savages,
    beasts to be tamed,
    our slaughter was inhuman,
    cut down with no shame,
    centuries endured of suffering and pain,
    yet the word survives corroding our brains.

    A word uttered callously,
    like it had no past,
    but time pushes on,
    what a huge shadow its cast.
    It is a part of the canon, our language, our diction,
    a testament to ignorance,
    mans lifelong prison.

    Lips stained with profanity, breath wreaking of gin,
    staggering hopelessly, through the quagmire we are in.
    Absent fathers, mediocre jobs,
    past the gunfire and chalk is heard those harrowing sobs.
    Though she persists with all she can muster,
    her defeated tears will anoint the new hustlers.

    In the concrete jungle,
    devoid of all options, one becomes a beast
    to the wind they throw caution.
    Packing glocs, holding blocks, finding no solutions,
    the gavel or the bullet will mark their conclusion.

    The original immigrants,
    victims of liars,
    your sweat and blood nurtured the seeds of empires.
    And yet you don't prosper,
    like those who came after,
    forced on one road to riches,
    and it leads to disaster.

    He sits back and watches,
    on the throne that you built,
    sits there condescending,
    no hesitance, no guilt.
    He fears your potential,
    tells you not to erupt,
    even gave you a month,
    to shut you the **** up.

    There's a genocide occurring,
    four centuries in the making,
    a united front's needed,
    the world is ours for the taking.
    Why can't we be our own administrators, builders of our fate,
    we must become equals,
    then rise above hate.

    Destructions assured if we continue behaviour,
    God has ignored you, be your own saviour.
    A shadow trails you, to and fro,
    its presence familiar,
    its name unknown.
    He is you, you are him,
    brothers in arms,
    cease petty squabbles, crush masters farm.
    There s no time like the present,
    we can right the wrongs,
    it may be tough being black,
    but it's harder staying strong.
     
  2. cherryblossom

    cherryblossom Banned MEMBER

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    Brother, this whole piece was awesome; but the bolded parts particularly touched/struck me.

    Well done. Well said. :toast:
     
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