I'm a 6-foot, flat-footed grizzly, Ma name's Earth, I'm rich like the four seasons. Is it my black shades that bother you? Thick shades, which protect a sensitive soul. I'm tame, tame as you can get in a zoo, But I don't eat from hands; I eat roots. You're afraid of me, shouldn't I be afraid of you? For history books don't tell the whole story. What about the young ones you ravaged, The so-called savage that could take pain Turn it into a playful fantasy game. Your men called it a 'dubious flirtation'. One two buckle my shoe, sister run, run, run, Iron marks on her bruised ankle-bones, Bellyaching hate lashed at her back. Tarnished by time, shovels emboss stories,

Remains of the skin-war lie in the Deep South. We were born between tall poplar trees, Where blacks scratched, bled, wept, and lost skins to pain. Sometimes we were hung in a tarred feathered drift. That's why I'd rather be a grub than a king, So I can inch beneath the scene of things, Nibble the core, scatter pips, for I have issues, Spanking issues concerning black and pink.

Why are you eyeing-up ma melanin? Would you like a spot to rub off on you? Original sun lotion, ma love potion That shimmers in the sun like a glazed cherry. Hate's smoke rises, burnt offerings moan, I climb vines on the back of consciousness, Exercising blackness. I wear the 'dumb dumb' mask, To uncover the 'Nature of Prejudice'.

Why are you still staring at me, white woman? Is it the strength in ma paws that bother you? I'm the old phantom, who's been around for centuries, Boo, why do you wonder if I might attack? Would you like to see me in your menagerie? To stroke my sensations when Caucasians are gone? Lady, look to the zenith and see the best of me, Standing proud outlined with studded diamonds.

(Mar. 2002, © Maroula Blades)