Where I’m From, Where I Am Now
Long, strong eyelashes
Reaching back to the young Egyptian King Tut.
Knowing, chocolate-brown eyes from Frederick Douglas,
Seeing liberated lands in the words, interdimensional portals.
I exude the boldness of Harriet Tubman
My stature not enough to contain my iron will.
My anger, stemming from a long line of Africans,
Betrayed by their brethren,
Enslaved and mistreated by white devils with the face of Jesus.
My stubbornness comes from my mother’s side of the family.
My mother, her mother, her mother’s mother
All contributed to me thinking of life’s stop sight at suggestions.
From my father, I inherited generosity and patience,
But I won’t be taken advantage of.
Phyllis Wheatley passed her hands down to me,
Hands destined to make pens fly across the page,
Constructing poems to exorcise our demons and evoke our heart’s desires.
My blood flown like rivers from the Motherland,
the Congo, Niger, and Nile coursing through my veins.
I’m from glory, honor, and majesty.
I’m from humiliation, agony, and despair.
I’m from everything.
I’m from nothing.
My life matters.
Shut up, everyone’s life matters.
I’m dying.
Stop whining, we all are.
I’m from extensive, proud, land cultures of my ancestors
And we will be heard.