STOLEN FRUIT FROM THE WOMB OF MOTHER AFRICA
I am a BLACK woman...
No, I'm an AFRICAN woman..
I am a descendant of the Original Hebrew Israelites,
The West African SLAVES,
No...I am a Nubian QUEEN,
Descendant of the original African Egyptians,
Land of the Blacks, The land of Kemet,
Before the ones who ENSLAVED,
We were the one's who built the Pyramids,
That which made them brazen with rage,
The Creator created,
So we shall the same,
From mine ancestors minds came many great things,
Science, Mathematics, Architecture, Alchemy, Colonialism, Civilization, Village and Children,
Manifest Destiny.. speak it into existence,
We are the original creators of shit,
Nigga riggin', fixin, and cultivatin' shit,
Make something out of nothing,
Lemons, water, sugar,
Colored, powdered sugar,
Pig intestines to delicatessen,
Specialty cook and Holistic healer,
Home remedies from Ghana to Gama,
From Yabba to Babba,
Child to child bearer,
Girl to wife, wife to midwife,
Pain and music, music and pain,
Song and tribal dance,
Your holy dance, your holy tongue,
Perhaps our innate language?
Igbo to Creole,
We created language,
Ebonics and broken English,
Riddled, rhythmic, parables,
Slang and urban dialect,
Rap, Rhythm and Blues,
Underground Railroad rules,
Messages we disguise in painstaking hymns,
Yet, you deduce our intellect to that of mammal.
Untamable, in need of herding,
Yet, it is you who lacks understanding of our yearning,
Of our nativity of people,
You think how we move and conduct ourselves is behoove of you,
Our pineal glands are not calloused, but wide open,
Our vibration paths- open,
Flows straight from The River of Life,
Our mind's are made of gold,
So they had to decimate it,
Our mines are filled with Gold,
So they had to obliterate it,
They robbed her for the fruit of her womb,
They called her, Mother Africa,
Annihilation of a nation,
Our women become their whores, their concubines- war treats,
Our men- prisoners of war,
All sorts of spiritual and physical wars,
Are as defenseless as children,
We are Bastards...
A bastardized nation of misguided, misunderstood, brilliant, people,
Children of Africa..
The stolen nectar of Her womb,
Upon the backs of blacks, America was built,
Sweltering, blazing, heat against sun ripened, dark pigmented skin..
100 hundred lashes for all with melanin sin...
For both the young, and the old,
The meek and the bold,
Our backs' tattooed with welts, illustrated by overzealous Massta's,
Afar. From about a thousand yards or more,
I can feel Massta's Mistress gaze upon me,
With hatred, jealousy, and envy,
She looks on with pride,
Like the umpire,
She looks on and smiles,
A twinkle in her eye, for my every cry
All while sippin' a fresh, cool, tall glass of ice cold lemonade,
From the swing, in the shade, on the plantation stage.
BY JE'DON HOLLOWAY-TALLEY
-inspired by Beyoncé's Lemonade project, a work of art, love, and heart, for her people, US!