When your skin is darker than your past, you'll find
yourself instinctively seeking shade, avoiding the scorching
rays of the sun that seem to tarnish its complexion.
Its once radiant appearance now tinged with the remnants
of the flames, forever leaving a mark.
You may feel that all your imperfections persist, yearning
to be acknowledged and embraced, yet often remaining
unnoticed by the oblivious eyes of the world.
You, my dear, have become a surreal spectacle, captivating
the gaze of many with your unique blend of beauty and vulnerability.

In this collective exchange of glances, you discover
a remarkable unity, a deep connection that transcends
mere superficiality. It is as if each shared look weaves
together the threads of our lives, binding us in a profound
state of matrimony, where understanding and acceptance intertwine.

As we stand together, lost in the enigmatic origins of life,
it becomes apparent that your skin holds a story, an
uninterrupted lineage that stretches back through time.
It is a tapestry of ancestral struggles and triumphs, a testament
to resilience and fortitude. And like the night that envelops
the world, your dusky guardian complexion bears witness
to the strength and beauty that lies within.

But let us not be judged solely by what meets the eye.
Peel back this outer layer, delve deeper into who we truly are,
and you will discover hearts that beat with the same
tenderness, dreams that flourish within the obscure depths of
our souls. Don't let the label of "African child,"
confine us to a predetermined destiny; instead, let it be
a celebration of our heritage, a recognition of the richness
and diversity that flows through our veins.

So, my dear, as we navigate our way through this complex
and ever-changing world, let your skin be a canvas,
not only for the painted white of eyes that might cast
judgments, but for the genuine smiles that radiate from within.
Embrace your darkness, your unique hue, and let it stand
as a testament to the vibrant spirit that resides in the
depths of your being.

People talk, more than I.
I am ashamed of my past,
And confused about my life.
Where the history, of many lineages
Is well-described:
I am unaccustomed with mine.
What I know, of right & of wrong,
Is it predicated on the rule of the weak
By that of the strong?
The gaze thus glares from my eyes,
Does it live in black & in white?
Does bruised fruit still grow ripe?

I love the stars
They remind me that
There’s enough space
for everyone to shine

I love the moon
It teaches me
patience and beauty

I love the sunset
Its fading colors
teach me that
every ending promises a new beginning

I love shadows
The way they play on walls
reminds me that even in darkness,
there’s artistry and mystery
to be found

I love chirping crickets,
bonfires, fireflies, darkness…

…I LOVE THE NIGHT!

I open my door to the icy cold,
Look up at the moon to see it's no longer full.
I start my walk and notice the ground glitters
It's kind of funny, how black ice likes to shimmer

It wasn't shimmering when I was drifting earlier
Although the thrill and dodge made me shiver,
Invisibility never caused me to quiver
All it gifted me was loneliness and shelter

Does the ice feel the same kind of chill
As it wraps the world in a frozen thrill?
Beneath its glimmer, secrets are concealed,
A dance with shadows, as the moonlight spills.

The Paragliders like ravenous vultures flew
to southern Israel to predate on soft targets.
Like swarms of bees, they snuck, *****, maimed, shot, burnt and slew.
Terror did every man's fragile conscience becloud.
Hate made their embittered hearts to mercy forget.
Abductions followed, having to terror avowed.

Then came the IDF's genocidal intent,
having intended global laws to circumvent;
Children, women, all consumed by mighty vengeance.
A disproportionate response beyond balance.
Homes, hospitals, Mosques, Churches and schools are levelled,
as Gaza is by torrents of bombs bedeviled.
I do not with a livid Israel sympathize,
nor do I with a besieged Gaza empathize.
With humanity I have my affinity,
for my deep love for it, tends to infinity.

I am a *****
I say it with pride
I cannot my colour hide
its radiant blackness does glow.
I am tropically designed,
and from taunts I am resigned.
I love my natural label,
it rings my pride like a bell.
My frame is black and lovely,
I am feminine and curvy.
My rare Baartman's curves are awesome,
despite my colour being 'loathsome.'
My labour in the scorching field
was worth a trans-Atlantic risk.
I enriched the west with my yield.
My hard labour did slip my disc.
I am Africa's black gold,
and on this heritage I hold.
I am black and proudly so,
that is who I am, a *****!!

this is it?
this is what we signed up for?
you told me I signed a contract on this hell I chose for myself,
you're telling me I came her willingly
an angel in disguise,
from another planet,
but I know better,
I know I was never an angel,
and don't want to be one either,
because angels do cry,
and angels do dream,
until
it all comes crashing,
because all along,
behind the veil of it all,
you already signed another contract with the devil,
and you wonder about all the uncertainty,
because there's no certainty
in black and white,
the only certainty
is grey in color