Over IT

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 white 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 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

And 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 

Choked by barbed wire
Chained and dragged down Jasper roads

No.

Not while my soul bleeds out through bullet holes
That drip ruby red 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 Black 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 stop 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 too much vodka 

With too many candy flavors

They like to say that that is not the way it
Is these days

Co-opting the hell out of MLK

But I can't believe them 

Because Fun-Town is still closed
and Black clouds still darken my daughter's sky

You can never tell where you're going

Without looking back at 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 shit-

Until IT is finally OVER