Over It: A poem
Like that last tribe of Israel
My past in invisible
My original name has been left behind
And my bloodline lies fossilized
In the ruins of grown over slave quarters
That they forget to talk about on Tuesday plantation tours
That all men ware created equal has always
Been a bit of a White Lie
Most days, were still trying to find
That remaining 2/5ths of humanity
They like to say: That's not today, so get over it already
But that's not likely to happen until I take my story back
The one that they tell about:
Buck-toothed rabbits in the briar patch
Pickininnies with bare feet and braided plaits
Black bird buffoons in Saturday morning cartoons
And in Tarzan movies with mite midgets in blackface
Pretending to be pygmies
See, nobody else will ever get YOUR story right
Everybody still dreams of a White Christmas
But Black Ice...
Is dangerous and insidious
They like to say: That's just not today
But let's be honest:
Ebola only became a problem when it started leaving Africa
They say that that just isn't today
But
Were still living the aftermath of the Middle Passage
The black doll is still ugly
Good hair is still not ours
And good skin is still the color
Of a paper bag
But they still say
That's not today
Why, just look at how one of us got away
Over the fence
Across the lawn
And into the White House
After 8 years I do often wonder
How many times was Barack mistaken for the butler
They like to say: Just get over it
But how can I? When my memories keep getting shot down in Mississippi driveways
Kidnapped out of windows and garroted by barbed wire
Chained and dragged down Jasper roads
No.
Not while my soul bleeds out through bullet holes
That drip ruby read dreams That fall
Drop
by
Drop
In Fruitvale and Ferguson
Not until they tell the truth about the World Trade Center
How before it fell it sat tall on the
Forgotten graves of dark servants and slaves
Not until my future
Is finally off parole Not until they stop taking advantage
Of my salt, sugar and relaxer addictions/ And creating bullshit like potato chips
that taste like waffles and chicken
Not until they see that Dred Scott still lives
In liquor stores on too many corners selling
vodka with candy flavors
They like to say that that is not the way it
Is these days
But I can't believe them because FunTown is still closed
and Black clouds still darken my daughter's sky
You can never tell where you're going without
Looking back at e the footprints of where you used to be
So when they say that's not today, so get over it
I tell them
I'm not getting over anything
Until it is finally over
My past in invisible
My original name has been left behind
And my bloodline lies fossilized
In the ruins of grown over slave quarters
That they forget to talk about on Tuesday plantation tours
That all men ware created equal has always
Been a bit of a White Lie
Most days, were still trying to find
That remaining 2/5ths of humanity
They like to say: That's not today, so get over it already
But that's not likely to happen until I take my story back
The one that they tell about:
Pickininnies with bare feet and braided plaits
Black bird buffoons in Saturday morning cartoons
And in Tarzan movies with mite midgets in blackface
Pretending to be pygmies
See, nobody else will ever get YOUR story right
Everybody still dreams of a White Christmas
But Black Ice...
Is dangerous and insidious
They like to say: That's just not today
But let's be honest:
Ebola only became a problem when it started leaving Africa
They say that that just isn't today
But
Were still living the aftermath of the Middle Passage
The black doll is still ugly
Good hair is still not ours
And good skin is still the color
Of a paper bag
But they still say
That's not today
Why, just look at how one of us got away
Over the fence
Across the lawn
And into the White House
After 8 years I do often wonder
How many times was Barack mistaken for the butler
They like to say: Just get over it
But how can I? When my memories keep getting shot down in Mississippi driveways
Kidnapped out of windows and garroted by barbed wire
Chained and dragged down Jasper roads
No.
Not while my soul bleeds out through bullet holes
That drip ruby read dreams That fall
Drop
by
Drop
In Fruitvale and Ferguson
Not until they tell the truth about the World Trade Center
How before it fell it sat tall on the
Forgotten graves of dark servants and slaves
Not until my future
Is finally off parole Not until they stop taking advantage
Of my salt, sugar and relaxer addictions/ And creating bullshit like potato chips
that taste like waffles and chicken
Not until they see that Dred Scott still lives
In liquor stores on too many corners selling
vodka with candy flavors
They like to say that that is not the way it
Is these days
But I can't believe them because FunTown is still closed
and Black clouds still darken my daughter's sky
You can never tell where you're going without
Looking back at e the footprints of where you used to be
So when they say that's not today, so get over it
I tell them
I'm not getting over anything
Until it is finally over
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