[Where I'm From]
I'm from the mouth & mandibles
of the first cannibal animal
in the inner city
struggling to eat
within the belly
of the beast
I'm
from the pain & struggle
sweat
from the brow
of
then-and-now revolutionaries
born
out of the palms
of
applauding trees
breast-fed
by Mother Earth
when
I kissed the sands
of
my homeland
You ask where I'm from?
I recline in the laughter
of mothers in slums
still smiling though
I'm the sun of a gun
born in the barrel
of Stokley Carmicheal's first rifle
that's where I'm from . . .
No
laughing matter
I'm
from the afterthought
of
a fist raised
brave
to Olympic crowds
& if
you're looking for me . . .
My street address
is 1960 Revolution boulevard
that stretches decades
& runs only one way
But
I'm still from the traffic
of
slaves but the path is paved
golden
beneath the feet
of
the saved
You ask where I'm from?
I exist in the echoes of protest chants
deaf, with my hands
making sound-waves
at spectators and passersby
I'm
from black love
dancing
shadows
hallowed
souls
running
free
across
sunsets
in
the Congo
Currently, you can find me
in the smile of Maya Angelou
I rise with both her cries
& laughter
I'm
from A Small Place
I'm from Amazing Grace
I'm
from the song of a caged bird
with
freedom in my words
I'm from the wrong side
of the tracks
laid by black hands
where the only sun that shines
is me
I'm
from the tears of Betty and Claretta
running
backwards up their cheeks
uncried
into their eyes
when
dreams were finally realized
I'd say I was from LA
but I would have lied
I'm
from the furnaces in Watts
& the
eyes that watched
I'm from the peace of protest
not the war of unrest
I
came from the breast of Prospect
still
holding my breath
until where I'm from
is where I am
& there
are no questions left . . ..