So this poem I did was for a "Malcolm X Poetry and Art Contest" and the quote that I got the inspiration for this poem is:
“Hence I have no mercy or compassion in me for a society that will crush people, and then penalize them for not being able to stand up under the weight.” -Malcolm X
There is no sympathy for those who cannot cultivate in and for the Harlem community. And there is no strife for the inability to ravish against mutiny and thirst through droughts. We are savvy to the qualities that become of us when we counter enigmas that surface who we really are, weak. We strive for the advancement of colored people in knowledge, holiness, and comfort. A covenant for the church that we pray in the name of Allah… Apologies, I really meant Jesus. They confuse us for Africans, not African Americans. Baboons stolen from rib cages of the belly’s beast… The beast’s belly. Heart of the jungle, the concrete slave trade, child trafficking adult; the epitome to dark nights, lit days, heated snow and drowning daisies. You are subject to crumble at your own creation, a nigga riddling history. Start desiring to strawberry perverse pertinent and make sense of what you fight for… A disgrace race who face lace front tracks and pace the state in which you want to continue the buffoonery. My silly blue eyed black boy, you’d rather chase America rather than trot behind Africa. Follow the leader and stumble at your own redemption. I am very unapologetic to the fact that we can never uplift the word uplift and shatter shame from the clear glass pit that we can see our fate from. Comfort the man, and extinguish the agony. Cradle the nation and teach the babies because if we allow it to faultier as the rigid lines on our palms stretch; we have failed as people. People are a failure. Black people are a failure. And this is the reason why apathy substitutes concern for a community that doesn’t support one another.
“Hence I have no mercy or compassion in me for a society that will crush people, and then penalize them for not being able to stand up under the weight.” -Malcolm X
There is no sympathy for those who cannot cultivate in and for the Harlem community. And there is no strife for the inability to ravish against mutiny and thirst through droughts. We are savvy to the qualities that become of us when we counter enigmas that surface who we really are, weak. We strive for the advancement of colored people in knowledge, holiness, and comfort. A covenant for the church that we pray in the name of Allah… Apologies, I really meant Jesus. They confuse us for Africans, not African Americans. Baboons stolen from rib cages of the belly’s beast… The beast’s belly. Heart of the jungle, the concrete slave trade, child trafficking adult; the epitome to dark nights, lit days, heated snow and drowning daisies. You are subject to crumble at your own creation, a nigga riddling history. Start desiring to strawberry perverse pertinent and make sense of what you fight for… A disgrace race who face lace front tracks and pace the state in which you want to continue the buffoonery. My silly blue eyed black boy, you’d rather chase America rather than trot behind Africa. Follow the leader and stumble at your own redemption. I am very unapologetic to the fact that we can never uplift the word uplift and shatter shame from the clear glass pit that we can see our fate from. Comfort the man, and extinguish the agony. Cradle the nation and teach the babies because if we allow it to faultier as the rigid lines on our palms stretch; we have failed as people. People are a failure. Black people are a failure. And this is the reason why apathy substitutes concern for a community that doesn’t support one another.
-Angela Cole