BlackBirds

::Sing a song of six pence
A pocket full of rye
Four and twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie::

Black birds
Black girls, Black boys
Our children
Love's Lost Destiny
Beauty of a nation
Buys into a lie.
Prefaced by
"Today we honor Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr."
Beauty comes in long/straight hair and light skin
and naked thighs
Manhood is defined by
"Mo' money, mo' cash, mo' hoes"
or a driveby.
And who called these truths?
Not you, nor I.

:: When the pie was opened,
The birds began to sing,::

Open eyes, open mind
Clairvoyant sight of
future lives.
Baby momma or baby's doctor,
Defense attorney or defendant railroaded?
Sing songs my children.
Find the hum of mother
The hymn of the Motherland.
Progeny of a royal line
Sing the undulating rhythm of
Past/future selves.

Young boy/prince/ king
Shine like the Sun, son.
Majestic mountains that
cause the tempestous wind
to pay
homage,
to reverently whisper your names.
Young girl/princess/queen
Claim your inheritance
Gold dust adorning
Coal/chocolate/mocha/honey skin.
Kissed by the Moon's glowing light.
The very grass will bow to pray
As you bless it with your footfalls.

My, what an honored gift you'll be before the King.