Filed under: As Seen On Stage
I wore these threads on purpose.
These jeans, like my soul, are torn
their holes are porous.
and the message I send, dare it be morphed by
outer logos or pending 3 minute long frivolous intro’s.
Flashy is no homie and Dolce & Gucci would rather not know me.
And despite the fact that I hail from “The OC”
I’ll be damned if my persona is shaped by the beamers rollin’ on dubs
and the mansions propped up on the sea
coast… THAT way if you believe this fabric is the only thing that makes me
coutured from head to toe,
you must have forgotten, my blood says I’m royalty
I need no materialistic support – simplicity is a must.
Trust – I’ll let my words define my genius
May my African nature leave an ash print on this stage
in the memory of the flaming history-book faces whos stories used to bore thee,
I pray their tales of historical discrepancies make your ears bleed true
and may your ankles now wade in the deep tides of
indifference and color hues…
pigment black but bleed red white & blue
Forced to function in a society that neither affirms nor negates our propriety
May it serve as a constant reminder to you
Our exterior does not characterize us
Trust – our legacy to defend our genius.
Contrary to what patriarchy may have taught you to think,
In our world, everything isn’t always glittered down and pink.
Magnified by the lenses you press against our cheeks
We dream of the day when shattered glass ceilings
will satiate our womanly tummies and overflow our womanly drinks
Constantly combative, carrying more weight than you and your brothers had to have
born babies out of wedlock, raised heirs of wealth, much to your shock
While proudly parading the title of “girly”..
Trust – my femininity to defend my genius.
I pay no mind to your kaleidoscope of constraints
swivel left or right in an attempt to align straight.
Convince females like me to walk that straight line
flip through magazines, depressed by the images we find
mind in duress, identity in distress,
the only language we’ve learned to speak is “skinny” so we
SCREAM to settle the paradox,
Emerge proudly size: sexy,
beautiful women unite
assumed correctly,
We won’t fit in your box
Trust – in our presence to define our genius.
And shall you assume the depth of our consciousness
treads in the rifts and scratches of the tunes the DJ’s record player emits
and that our hearts pound to instruments and instrumentals alone…
That melodic beats and rockin’ the flyest kicks is what makes us grown.
We hope you’re reminded that our generation is much more than billboard hit,
fashion filled wit, and an overly played ringtone!
Trust – our imprints to define our genius
Studiously invested in the study of life’s history
To my knowledge, none of your definitions define my developing being
I be not confined by your shackles and hegemonic infantry
I ignite all sparks you set beneath my feet
& absorb this information in the name of a better “we” so..
Trust – my collegiate lexicon to blow your mind, and define my genius.
My aura creamed with this scented lotion
Its aroma bits give off no notion of my
ultra complex persona, just subtle hints
In silence – I construct these rhymes
to entice feeble minds and smile upon
the completion of my cocktail of a mine
tick tick tick time bomb.
Take a deep breath, back up 3 steps & rewind
before you blow up in smoke
& its only your shadow the search parties will find
For you judged the very things that proved to undermine
the saliency of truth.
Injustice…
In..just..ice.
In Just Us we
TRUST.
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