This poem is inspired by the horrific events on Memorial Day, 2020 in Minnesota, USA, where police officers brutally murdered another unarmed black man, George Floyd, where one held his knee to Mr. Floyd's neck for NINE MINUTES even after he was unresponsive. I couldn't find words for days - and then this happened....
I hear the wail of the ancestors deep in my belly,
Enunciating the emancipating of feelings trapped…
Feelings tearing out as I am tearing up…
Coz I can’t hold anything back…
These feelings are white hot: white hot rage raging
Against the machine; rage so sharp, so clean
That it slits throats, slits wrists, slits veins …
And fits knee to neck – I resist, I object! ….
No, no… let me be raw:
I wanna burn everything to the fucking ground
Wanna burn every rassole ting
Coz I ent doing no looting; I shooting lyrics straight from the hip
Resisting the regime – no longer tolerating this shit-stem
I could still hear the wails of rage from the ancestors,
You know, that wail that does cut yuh belly as you
Cut de belly of de oppressor with ya rusty collins
Dah wail that come from ya soul when ya can’t take it no more
And rise up to resist the status quo: how things does go,
And have went from time immemorial – But not no mo’!
I can hear the wail of frustration rising like a libation from the earth –
Can’t be from the grave, coz so many of we ancestors din’ get bury
Not like massa try for centuries to bury we spirit and keep we under lock and key
And docile… And centuries later we still getting kill wid impunity?
So, what we gine do about it? What we gine say about it?
Coz #BlackLivesMatter is a hashtag that does come up every time
Another black body get put down, but nothing ever changes.
But I hear the wail of the ancestors deep in we belly.
You think you gine get way forever? You really think so?
Wait and see….