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This Black Mass of Hair is Revolution

This Black Mass of Hair is Revolution

The soldiers are coming to
Recovering from that Negro-ism
Recovering from stolen truths
Recovering from fire chemicals
Scorching roots of the motherland

This black mass of hair is revolution
Soldier hold tight to the afro pic in holster
When they fire bullets
Of gray-haired tales of too nappy
Pull out your weapon - start pickin'
Block blows with the flare of 'fro
Think Jimi Hendrix
Think Machine Gun

This black mass of hair is revolution
We win the war when we accept
We win the war when we revolt
We win the war when we salute the morning
Stand in front of our mirrors
Pat our crowns
Dress in pride proof armor
Shield ourselves with our sculpture of sass
Paint our strands in war markings
Resembling words of an ancestral past

This art of war
Be it free, be it wild
Be it moon after moon
'Til we get it right
'Til we deflect every arrow head
Poisoned with years of their hate
'Til every soldier wakes wide eyed
Empowered and ready
To spearhead the movement
To tight fist on the frontlines
For this thing so worth fighting for
This thing of beauty
 

Of nations
Of warriors
Of tribes
Of women
This thing of epic proportions –
Fight for it

© Rebeca Lois Lucret. Published by permission in Centro Voices on 24 April 2015.