The Afro
I am… the Afro.
Thick, twisted, and heavy
I grow history in loose leaf collections of
combed out oppression never forgetting
the knotted ropes that got me here.
Some ask why I don’t relax because
my past is the past and
it’s easier to lay down facts as trivia
rather than reality
but I’m still needed so I grow defiantly.
Out of Africa, I’ve expanded globally
absorbing the pain
of every man, woman and child
still held in slavery.
Journey with me;
See how it’s dressed in progress
as they attempt to move my words
into the fine print of designer jeans
and something they call “bling,”
singing of how “freedom rings”
but they are living off others’ agony,
nonchalantly offering their
dollar a day as a convenience fee
to serve Western supremacy.
When they see me,
they cross the street
attempting to circumvent,
vowing to repent the irrelevant
but I push them into memories
of why my pick is necessary
to pull out understanding.
Feel the texture and depth
of my purpose in verses of poetry,
show me the African in your blood,
the Asian in your walk,
the European in your will
and I will show you the
connections that anchor humanity.
I am the Afro.
Thick, twisted and heavy,
I remind you of who you should be.
Aware of what you could be…
if you acknowledged me.
– Kalia Glover, 2013
