My instructions came from the little black book. I shed no tears, I cry the pain of world, the lord said, I am the black stallion of the skies. Rising above the slave state call hell, releasing the toxins of fear, under minding the liberties of de lord, lord said man, devil say slave, lord say I speak, slave shall be no more. I sit upon an 8/11 cage, blood dripping from my back, blood from the palms of my hands, lynching tree awaits my neck, I am the black woman of the universe, I come in all colors and shades, I am the incubator of all Gods creations, I am the link between the heavens and the earth, I am breath when its too hard for my man to breathe, I am the laughter when the world brings him tears, I am the Alpha and Omega Psalms, I am the black woman, I cry no victim song. I have carried the scars on my back and the blood in the palms of my hands, lord sometimes my man look down on me, and some prefer the slave master daughter, and defame my name, I walk with the torch, that my King, the real treasures, that who is made in the image of thee, I am the black queen, of my mans Universe.
Should I hide the beauty that I am? Should I fear what man thinks, the purpose of my ebony skin? May I ask is it a sin? To love the person that lives within? I ask my self is it justified to pretend I don’t exist. Because man is intimidate by historical ebony skin? Oh I live in a world of a rainbow mix? Every day I see the white skin and how proud he represents, and the beauty of black skin, is not used in there current events.
Am I a racist because I speak of the beauty that lives within? Am I racist because the world thinks that Black is a threat? To think that he is better than I, to control my self esteem; Or is the world afraid the darkness I see within him. I ask my self the sanction of my skin, as the sanction of the Black Jesus who is described in the blue print of the black book,
Shall I deny who I am, under the synopsis of my skin Oh how beautiful I am, when man is intimidated by my skin. Oh this journey that I embark, say it loud I am black and I am proud; Is there a hidden agenda, I might rise upon the toxins that filter my beauty; to keep my mind in chains, So I stand before the world and say look at my beautiful skin, But oh do man no not, the soul is made of Gold;
Can you hear the music young black men ? celebrate the rights of passage of self, and the powerful drums, I walked into your subconscious visualizing the depth of your mind, it didn’t receive the clarity of its cause, the inheritance of Black Kings and Queens, It was my response, why do you fear my blackness?
I was created through the black sparring clay, and molded to the image of a Queen, man do not dictate my dreams, God created me as a Queen, I rise my brothers to the sky, I speak of the blackness of there pure black skin, so who is man to fear the beauty that I am, is it those who fear the inheritance of my Gold? I visualize the assumptions of those, who are afraid of the words Almighty God, and they sanction the glory that he is, and forbid his name to be use, so I understand the pros and cons, the beauty of my God, so who am I to cry, when those who hate the beauty of my black skin.
Noumi Collections @2000
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