EATING THE OTHER. Says Uni Q. Mical , Wednesday, October 29, 2008 at 12:17 PM, in Labels: beauty, black, consumption, dark meat, eating, other, woman

i went to NY this past weekend to perform at Columbia w/ my homegirl for the Latino Heritage Showcase. The topic? Color complexes. While there, it seemed EVERY public interaction gave us the reassurance that our poem was NOT in vain. i had the rude re-awakening that it's sooo hard trying to talk to white boys abt their privilege when i'm filled with so much RAGE from listening to their generalizations (those african-americans and spanish people with their 8 kids and child support)...AND dealing with being daily exotified and consumed and fetishized (hey, i LOVE dark meat!)...

WHAT'S A BLACK WOMYN TO DO????

respond with the poison. the word. 

so, here it is. one of many....eating the other. for all my survivors, my strong ones, my quiet ones, my loud ones. just living is a blessing...and a burden.

*this isnt the poem we performed, just a spark of inspiration sittin in class. more on the other piece later. 

and i’m

f  u  r  t  h  e  s  t

from your white conceptions of beauty.

 

lips been puffy since birth

to bite fruits is a blessing

the juices

keep them softened and blooming

like some tulips on Juneteenth

but don’t see me as all sweet,

cuz my expressions will school thee

jumpin off the tongue

same force as an army gun

warrior in the flesh

the casualties are historical rumps

shaking and baking

swaying hypnotic

rulers and rapings

repulsive and desired, such a brutal embracing

 

BUT I AM NOT YOUR PLAYTHING.

 

beautiful and on toppa my

natural clouds on my head got me on a knotty high

and don’t need you to validate it

not the fruit in your exotic pie

can't eat me 2 release me

cuz while the master’s sleeping

my sharpened knives are screeching

machete’d my way 2 freedom

YOUR WORST FEAR—

a chocolate womyn and her poison thoughts

independent of the gimmicks

from a system that wants me

auctioned off

unless i’m working within it

making you money while my top is off

the camera rolls

at how she flows

but that black bitch betta not ever talk

but even with that

my words scream louder than sapphire

fuckin ya flawed ideals like jezebel

telling mammy to retire

on a daily got me wired

like the streets of my city rollin

B-more in my blood, Afrika in my aorta

sick of adherin to what you told me

cuz you’re the reason i felt lonely

dark skinned & depressed

fit tighter than skin & bones

but i’ve grown 2 believe

that your history does not own me.

i’m uplifting so this brown

can drift like continents around the globe

WE

send the new memo of who we are

eres bella mama,

the stars

shine brighter on our skin

shout it until your throat is parched

give a big FUCK YOU to whoever denies our power

our past has shaped these bodies

but we must define us today for our tomorrow.