Tuesday, March 23, 2010


Come, and hold your ear to my wrist
Oblige me. Close your eyes

I dare you not to tap your feet
When you hear the beat, feel the rhythm
The pulse…pulse…pulse
Of my people

Then, look at my face, my body, my hair
And dissect me
Can you see the Indian in my hair?
Do I have a Spanish complexion?
Have I fully grown into my African curves?

It is in my blood, all of it
My DNA will tell the tale
Seers will grab my palm and see it
The land, stolen, the people taken and transplanted
The innocence lost, the blood shed, the cultures infused

Now open your new eyes and see, how it is all a part of me.