this is the story of my blackness,
when the earth opened up and out sprouted
the seed of life.
it was of no colour
yet it was black.
it had culture.

then the hard rains of the motherland
made the blackness grow
and the soul completed the backness
and made it whole.
then grace blessed the blackness
and made it great
and this greatness grew.

the blackness was a culture
-not of global holidays, festivities, fiestas
and once-off days
it was not of half naked peoples in a trance,
it was not of fancy clothed victorian
propaganda and publicity stunt idiots,
prancing on multi calibre rifles
and sowing gunpowder in the minds of
their children.

the culture of blackness
was not rebuilding one’s home
after politicaly spawned economic ruin.
the culture
was rebuilding one’s soul
after extensions of love were broken.

the culture was growing
-now it’s gone.