Tag Archives: prolife

D.N.A. #blacklivesmatter

I’m mostly skin-colour blind, but in this post I want to reflect on the struggles within the black communities.

You know that moment you have to protect your kids from some particularly mean neighbour? Well you won’t be protecting them if you did the same to them would you? The question to most blacks is: “How much do black lives matter to you?” More than your money? More than your tummy? More than playing life with that fine body? More than greed?

The title is inspired from Don Cheadle’s line : “Another Dead Niggers Association”, while talking to Kendrick on Kendrick Lamar’s hit song D.N.A. This song looks at the heritage of the black communities and the conclusion is quite poignant: “Sex, Money, Murder – Our DNA”. You can read more about it on Genius.com.
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Einstein is asleep in a Bepanda rubbish heap.
Newton is learning how to swim in Soweto poop.
Shakespeare is slumped in a car with extra lead
Losing the grams he suddenly gained on a Vegas road,
Then Dumas does same: different street, same oozing scenery.

D.N.A.

Is it a case of which or is it that each black life actually matters?
The geniuses seem to be electrons in the society’s first chapter,
Then the atom goes positive in self-wrought treachery

D.N.A.

You took Dube for his car, Njawe for his mouth, Lumumba for his mind, Pac
For his revolution, X for his convictions, Luther for his wisdom, Sankara,
For his vision, And their names scream from an unending roster in front of Peter.

Dead Negus Association

Then our mothers turn preemptive and kill
The next Mozart for fear of hunger, dump
The next Leke for fear of parental anger.

Where are the tears in these instants where the now seems better for all?
How to un-wrench my heart when the news comes out the radio speaker,
And the souls fly around one last time before going unaccomplished back home?

The miracle of the genetic mutation that brings genius to uplift our communities mostly gets lost earlier than on the blueprint:
Each gone by a gun or its mum.

(c) Nyonglema

People will treat you the way you treat yourselves. May blacks love their neighbour more so that hating you doesn’t look anymore like something you taught everybody. Love black lives

To the Unborn #9DaysforLife #abortion #proLife #USCCB

Dear You,

Love or lust cast you in the heavenly mould,
Where the Breath that heaves this chest mine
And those two breasts locked in their romantic hold
The night you first became human,
Filled your unicellular can
With life. And your mother could sure feel the sign.

But hate or mistrust casts you in the deadly cold
Without cloth or hope nor breathing equipment thine
As the doctor – ironic at 9 months birth you he would –
Pulls you from your Earth to space,
The vacuum you aren’t equipped to face
To take that life away as mother and/or father your fate decline.

Cry not as your electric pulses die with your parting soul,
But cry for the comfort of myopic mum murdering with confused mind,
For purity fills your innocent soul leaving the fleshy fold
To rise to Heaven
Loved, hated, unleavened.
Cry but that your early death may be last of its kind.

Go well brave You, until we meet on the other side.

With love,
May-Have-Been-Your-Friend

(c) Nyonglema