There are Gods amongst us in these ghettos
so black, so fierce,
so brown, so beautiful,
Their time on earth may be as oppressive as ignorance
limited to the demons flowing in their blood
but after safely passing over back to the clouds
the wind will still carry their auras and prophecies
their bones will still beat drums for their children to dance
the phoenix will still rise from the flames of Paris with hope in womb
There are Gods amongst us in these ghettos
so brown, so fierce,
so black, so beautiful,
That if you spend too much time caught up in yourself
You just might miss Him that is goddess, she that is god,
they that are legends
Working the runway as if walking on water
Reaching the stage to that promised land
where ‘peace’ is not ridiculed and the only war worth fighting for
is protecting your child from the terrorist acts of a mainstream America
where 'reading’ is an act of learning
not degrading words used to disguise fragility and fractured dreams
where 'shade’ is a shadow you walk in to avoid the light
but who wants to stay out of the warmth of the sun?
If you waste your time trying to be a false prophet
robed in attitude and labels to obscure the insecurity
you may fail to recognize their divinity and miracles
parting the crowds, resurrecting from the floor,
scoring tens of commandments,
because trophies will not feed the hungry, coat the homeless,
hide the scars,
Grand Prizes will not bring Lazarus or LaBeija back from the dead
they will just sit in your closet, fake idols gathering dust,
before the gold paint chips away
You cannot sell them for freedom
You cannot trade them in for love
There are Gods amongst us in these ghettos
so black, so fierce,
so black, so beautiful,
so brown, so fierce,
so brown, so beautiful,
Watch them carefully and say your prayers as they enter the ballroom
angel wing feathers decorating skin recrafted over silicone
and martyred colors
See the Gods dream, see the Gods give, see the Gods live,
They exist in the spaces where white is not the only hue
that represents purity
They will not battle to your rhythms and beats
click, spin and dip simply for amusement
They will not teach those who share their souls and names to hate
Their heartbeats are louder than the blaring speakers
You want realness… look at your hands
are they red from the revolution or from the blood of your own sisters
There are Gods amongst us in these ghettos
so black, so brown, so fierce, so beautiful, so bright
Look up towards the heavens and pray
then look at yourself in the mirror and say
'Stars are not only found out in the sky but in ourselves’
Emanuel Xavier
Screen Cap: Legendary
From Legendary: The Spoken Word Poetry of Emanuel Xavier
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