What is Black Power?

Black power is just an illusion that

has become an element of psyche delusion

when all the evidence of black power is

a black man in the White House, a man

who lacks any real power or desire to

do anything to help out those poor little

colored children who stood strong and helped

him knock  down the back door, so he

could spend some time chillin’ in the

White House.


Or is black power million dollar

heroes like Tiger, Kobe, or Jordan,

ball handlers who became millionaires

many times over and set a bar for swag –

cause that’s what our children value –

with wearing the newest shoes cause

little Tommy might not know the answer to

2 times 2, but I guarantee you he knows exactly

when the new Jordans will be released.

Or maybe like Tiger, little Tommy thinks

the million handed to him for his ball handling skills

should be used to go on the prowl hunting for

a bunch of women for sale – make mine white

if you please – to show he too has

the rich man’s disease.


Maybe black power means making

million dollar heroes out of illiterate little boys

who spend all their money on expensive toys

to impress people  who don’t give a shit while

inspiring all colored children to want to be rich,

little boys who make millions by calling themselves

rappers and who allow the black women who

birthed them, loved them to be devalued with

labels like hoes, dime chicks, side chicks, and thots.


Or maybe black power means

not judging those same rappers too

harshly or holding them to any sort of

standard – cause you just jealous of “they success.”

And ain’t that some mess that success can

wear expensive clothing and shoes, eat in the

finest restaurants while some of their offspring

don’t have shit to wear if it happens to be too

early in the week and mama can’t wash, so

the kids wear the same shit over and over again. And

the only time Junior can hear daddy’s voice is

by listening to that loud ass rap song that destroys

the beauty of us, as a people. Cuz daddy too busy

chasing that paper and getting high off success to

read to any of his illegitimate kids at night.


We sing rap lyrics like praise songs, rap

lyrics that defy simple principles of

unity and love for your brother while

glamorizing shooting your brother over

a dime bag or a dime chick or hitting a lick

thinking the money will stick to your hands.

When in reality it’ll all be gone too soon and

you nor your people will have a damn thing to

show for it. Black power today ducks and dodges,

like running from the police, the message of

lifting colored people out the streets  

or sewers of life, keeping them from dragging

their shit-smelling selves into the nearest

Korean hair store, liquor store, Indian food store,

Chinese restaurant, or pawn shop to spend their

money & floss, not their teeth, but their style.


Black power, today, is sharing memes

about the latest black casualty, cause

ain’t it a shame, yet arguing for little Joe’s

right to drop out of school, out of life for that matter,

and fall into a life of criminality cause killing

off our own soldiers is the way to prosperity

for our people. And complacency and apathy

have become the standard of normality for our

people. To make it is to have more dollars in the

bank than the next “nigga,” not to invest in community,

trying to uproot the criminality that has become the

standard of living; read: our no snitch mentality and

willing acceptance of being clothed in ignorance of

the see no evil, report no evil mentality

that makes our ‘hoods into war zones where

our own little colored children can’t walk



If one of us opens the door for you, we dare you

to become suspicious, but you better look out

cause either we’re gonna stab you in the back,

pick your pocket or close the door on your hand

to keep you from fighting back. Cause, like pit bulls,

we now breed our children to fight each other,

kill each other, steal from each other, insult

each other, do anything to keep each other down

in an effort to achieve individual prosperity.


That, for us, is black power and it’s also

the reason we don’t have any today.  




About Rosalind Guy

I'm broken & my soul is weary/ my weary soul rebels, fights/ anything & anyone who tries to heal me/I beat my head against a wall of memories/ trying hard to break free from the chain of memories/ I can only be free by saying it so/ i weave a necklace from words and finally/ I find freedom/ free free free. As you can see, words are powerful to me. As Maya Angelou said, words are wallpaper of the soul. I have lots of nightmarish memories that threaten to break me, but I learned a long time ago about the power of words. They can be used to heal and destroy anything that threatens to destroy the person. Words coupled with love have the power to save and heal. I am author of three books: Skinny Dipping in the Pool of Womanhood, Tattered Butterfly Wings, and Blues of a Love Junkie. I am a high school English teacher. I am a former reporter. I am a mother. I am a woman. I am a fierce advocate for those who cannot speak for themselves, those who's voices go unheard. Check out my Amazon author page at the following link: http://www.amazon.com/Rosalind-Guy/e/B00BGH5F88/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1432491754&sr=8-1.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s