The following slam poem was submitted by a poet who goes by the name "BlakaFemale." This poem is provided as a written poetry piece addressing the historical atrocities endured by the black community, as well as the incredible resilience of black women. Leave a comment to move this poem up in the rankings. Our poetry comment system is intended to facilitate feedback for our artists, and to promote creative communication. Don't just read poetry -- take the leap by, submitting, commenting, and following.
--Slam Poems Editor
I Am BlakaFemale
You kidnapped and stole me from my natural birthplace a land of plenty that provided so much for the many and the same as BlakaMale I too was branded, stamped, and shipped for sale to experience a different type of the same American made hell, I Am BlakaFemale.
No longer able to see or hear my elders named, Amina of Nigeria, Candace of Ethiopia, Makeda of Sheba, Nefertiti of Kement , and Yaa Asantewa of Ghana. These powerful Black African Queens taught Maya Angelou the reasons Why The Caged Bird Sings.
From riding in the hull of a slave ship in 1619 to riding in a front row seat flying one of NASA’s spaceships in 1992 this is what I do to get the job done me, Mae Jemison.
Just as Harriet started the Underground Railroad by developing mental maps of smart and tricky trails to escape this American made hell from slave to slave we all promised not to tell that he is a she, I Am BlakaFemale.
My work was never done from the big house then back to the slave house I was always tossed about and could not shout. You whipped me, spit on me, burned me, kicked me, slapped me, spied on me, lied on me, and all of my work was free.
You took off all of my clothes and raped me violating my chastity still I maintained my sanity and upheld my vanity knowing this will not be my final destiny. With no where to run and no one to tell I decided to develop a plan to escape and overcome this American made hell, I Am BlakaFemale.
As I started on my sojourner I had to tell myself the Truth “ain’t I a women”. I had to breast feed his kind and my kind and as I looked down at the little face of his kind in the big house taking my milk that is sweet to the taste and pure. While my kind lay sick in the slave house damn near dead with no cure.
With a broken heart and years and years of pent up tears I just stood and screamed out loud, loud yells that was answered by Ida B. Wells. Saying stop hanging around with a fret your Black skin is not your threat.
Once I stopped Waiting to Exhale I knew then I would prevail, I Am BlakaFemale.
From plowing the fields, hand washing the clothes, ironing the clothes, cleaning the children, getting the wood, combing the hair, cooking the food and cleaning the house I decided to become my own boss.
Madam C. J. Walker is my name I learned the game and turned it into a money-making thang. I came up with a creation to end the devastation with a solution that started a revolution to clean, grow, soften, and press Black women hair. Called Walker “system of hair care” and became a millionaire.
So I started to blaze a trail for others to get my hair care by mail and forget about the forty acres and the mule but start to rule with all those sales and become your own, I Am BlakaFemale.
Yes back in the day the Black woman’s body was worth more than any gold today it remains the same today I just gave her a name. The Queen of Soul I am told with a voice so powerful it could hand cuff lighting and throw thunder’s ass in jail, I Am BlakaFemale.
I am the first person of African descent to seek the office of the US President. Up from colonialism, lied on with weak watered down journalism while trying to disguise racism. First name Shirley and last name Chisholm.
I am giving you to 411 on the government approved tricks you use on medicine to cure the sick that you stole from my sister Henrietta
Lacks from way back.
Those are the HeLa Cells from the immortal, I Am BlakaFemale.
You tried to hide me from the TV screen because of the way I look so I took some pages out of your playbook. With a little bit of dough I started my OWN damn show. It set me free with no fee to be me, Oprah Winfrey. The trail that was blazed by others who are my spiritual mothers are still there. I followed them stepped up my game with thoughts of the same and became the first African American Women billionaire.
I am married to America’s 44th president and no we didn’t have to pay the rent. And as you all know we caught a different type of American made hell and sometimes Barack Obama would start to dwell about the drama.
I would say stop don’t you dwell you are married to MICHELLE and we will never ever fail I am your First Lady and out of this American made hell I will always be America’s First BlakaFemale.
This poem is dedicated to all Black women to walk proud with your head in the air like you just don’t care. Rocking those hips with a nod and a wink like the average millionaire.
Rocking that HAIR whether, Natural, Pressed, Tenny Weeny Afro, (TWA), Big Ass Fro (BAF), curls, braids, laid, locks, or ball we love them all.
Without Thee there would not be a He. America don’t fear me feel me.
Be the Peace
BlakaFemale
No longer able to see or hear my elders named, Amina of Nigeria, Candace of Ethiopia, Makeda of Sheba, Nefertiti of Kement , and Yaa Asantewa of Ghana. These powerful Black African Queens taught Maya Angelou the reasons Why The Caged Bird Sings.
From riding in the hull of a slave ship in 1619 to riding in a front row seat flying one of NASA’s spaceships in 1992 this is what I do to get the job done me, Mae Jemison.
Just as Harriet started the Underground Railroad by developing mental maps of smart and tricky trails to escape this American made hell from slave to slave we all promised not to tell that he is a she, I Am BlakaFemale.
My work was never done from the big house then back to the slave house I was always tossed about and could not shout. You whipped me, spit on me, burned me, kicked me, slapped me, spied on me, lied on me, and all of my work was free.
You took off all of my clothes and raped me violating my chastity still I maintained my sanity and upheld my vanity knowing this will not be my final destiny. With no where to run and no one to tell I decided to develop a plan to escape and overcome this American made hell, I Am BlakaFemale.
As I started on my sojourner I had to tell myself the Truth “ain’t I a women”. I had to breast feed his kind and my kind and as I looked down at the little face of his kind in the big house taking my milk that is sweet to the taste and pure. While my kind lay sick in the slave house damn near dead with no cure.
With a broken heart and years and years of pent up tears I just stood and screamed out loud, loud yells that was answered by Ida B. Wells. Saying stop hanging around with a fret your Black skin is not your threat.
Once I stopped Waiting to Exhale I knew then I would prevail, I Am BlakaFemale.
From plowing the fields, hand washing the clothes, ironing the clothes, cleaning the children, getting the wood, combing the hair, cooking the food and cleaning the house I decided to become my own boss.
Madam C. J. Walker is my name I learned the game and turned it into a money-making thang. I came up with a creation to end the devastation with a solution that started a revolution to clean, grow, soften, and press Black women hair. Called Walker “system of hair care” and became a millionaire.
So I started to blaze a trail for others to get my hair care by mail and forget about the forty acres and the mule but start to rule with all those sales and become your own, I Am BlakaFemale.
Yes back in the day the Black woman’s body was worth more than any gold today it remains the same today I just gave her a name. The Queen of Soul I am told with a voice so powerful it could hand cuff lighting and throw thunder’s ass in jail, I Am BlakaFemale.
I am the first person of African descent to seek the office of the US President. Up from colonialism, lied on with weak watered down journalism while trying to disguise racism. First name Shirley and last name Chisholm.
I am giving you to 411 on the government approved tricks you use on medicine to cure the sick that you stole from my sister Henrietta
Lacks from way back.
Those are the HeLa Cells from the immortal, I Am BlakaFemale.
You tried to hide me from the TV screen because of the way I look so I took some pages out of your playbook. With a little bit of dough I started my OWN damn show. It set me free with no fee to be me, Oprah Winfrey. The trail that was blazed by others who are my spiritual mothers are still there. I followed them stepped up my game with thoughts of the same and became the first African American Women billionaire.
I am married to America’s 44th president and no we didn’t have to pay the rent. And as you all know we caught a different type of American made hell and sometimes Barack Obama would start to dwell about the drama.
I would say stop don’t you dwell you are married to MICHELLE and we will never ever fail I am your First Lady and out of this American made hell I will always be America’s First BlakaFemale.
This poem is dedicated to all Black women to walk proud with your head in the air like you just don’t care. Rocking those hips with a nod and a wink like the average millionaire.
Rocking that HAIR whether, Natural, Pressed, Tenny Weeny Afro, (TWA), Big Ass Fro (BAF), curls, braids, laid, locks, or ball we love them all.
Without Thee there would not be a He. America don’t fear me feel me.
Be the Peace
BlakaFemale
POWERFUL!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeletePowerful poem.
ReplyDeletePOWERFUL!!!!!!! Comment by Pamela Battles.
ReplyDeleteTOTALLY POWERFUL and should be a lesson to all who are ignorant of the facts!!!!
ReplyDeleteBlakafemale..The Ultimate Black!!!
ReplyDeleteWow!
ReplyDeleteWow! Wow! Wow! We come a long way baby. This is Awesome. Thank you.
DeleteCynthia
BlakaFemale is an original piece that speaks to our history and accolades. Thank you for sharing such a powerful piece with us. Learn, earn, return. I am BlakaFemale.
ReplyDeleteWow women have came along way. very POWERFUL!!!
ReplyDeleteAmazing and powerful
ReplyDelete