Saturday, August 3, 2013

wait just a minute, brotha

this poem is in response to a spoken word piece you can find here by mike geffner.

i was a tad heated by his need to justify his choice to be with non-white women over sistas, by vilifying sistas (while also mocking a typified version of a black woman). anyway, without further ado... "brotha"
let's not play the blame game
...seems to me
like you're extra salty
because you bit off more than you could chew
you chose a rat
from the hood
that wasn't no good
looking for that ever elusive
and much talked about good good...
lemme guess?
she was fine?
light- skinned divine?
did she have that cola bottle shape?
was she the one all the girls loved to hate
[making her the envy of all your friends]
giving you rights to brag
on that hottie you bagged...
yet, you thought that trite shit
wouldn't come to an end?
lemme see,
you paid them bills
because her head gave you chills
and though you lived with your mama
you were a good man, still...
and you're tight because she preferred thug drama?
...but it's "US" though, right?
so, you chose this ho
who equated ass with cash
who chased thugs with cars...
am i right so far?
and...according to your mocking
popped gum while talking...
and you're blaming "SISTAS"...
for this bullshit, mister?

no sir, you may want to stop right there
let's be 100 and let me make this clear...
just say you fell in love
no explanation required
don't shift accountability
onto a sea of sistas' lack of humility
while you were macking ms. tacky
and chasing big booties and just-right thighs
some geeked out fat girl
was praying you'd see her past her size
and perhaps,
her hair wasn't as long
her personality not as strong
you had on shades to look through her
but want US to throw rose-colored glasses on
so we can "get over"
that you chose peach over brown?
i could respect your choice
to be with whomever you want
far easier if you weren't
trying to simulatneously front
making hoodrats and hos
your scapegoat for your woes
when the truth is this...

you chased what you saw
seeing no flaws
then you cried foul
after finding your supposed diamond
was just a bit too raw
YOU chose the woman
who used her body for barter
YOU chose the woman
who used you for sugar, daddy...
now you wanna get cute
because you're dating beth, jane and maddy?

now, you're all
"fuck you and fuck her, too"
because your daydreams of rocking her world
were over so soon
due to you never being a glimpse in her moon
and as you were watching her,
someone more suitable was watching you
whom YOU didn't see
in all the revelry...?
you wanted the trophy so badly
that you may have run past one
willing to run the ball beside YOU, sweetie
so, don't blame ALL black women
because you chose the WRONG black woman
if you like peach over brown
well then "get on down"
but don't box us in
to this group you resent
among us are the ones
who WOULD have given you a chance
had you not been wrapped up
in a bad romance...
we all have been through
i've been hurt, too
but, I keep hope alive
for my ebony king to arrive
no one chased you off
you ran in the other direction
and guess what?
it's NOT a direct reflection
because you get to
just don't make this about win or lose
and blame everyone else...
just say you love who you love
and keep your excuses to yourself

© 2013 Kween Kiwi 

in the butterfly net...

i ink...i flow...i pen,
my soul, my words, my zen