U M O J A (U N I T E D)

Could it be you've heard of me,

though we've never chanced to meet?

or maybe, we shared a common ancestor,

amid the Saharan heat?

My ancestors were Fulani,

Yoruba and Oyo,

Our cousins were Ashanti,

Hausa and Sokoto,

I am the Mansa's daughter,

The Griot from Segu, 

Could it be we've met before,

somewhere in Timbuctoo?

My mother? An Angolan warrior,

fighting the Portuguese,

In Queen Nzingha's army,

bringing white men to their knees,

My brothers? all noblemen,

scholars at Jenne´

before the transatlantic voyage,

seized them from Goree´

We were the language people,

fluent in Bantu and in Boor,

before they suppressed our languages,

our customs, and our mores,

They churched us with Jesus,

in the belly of 'The Whale'

before they sold us into slavery,

and delivered us straight to hell,

divided us by dozens,

and separated us by lots,

branded each of my cousins,

to be sold, bartered, bought,

Could be that you know me,

think you've seen my face before?

because they separated my family,

as soon as we reached the shore,

Sold my brother to a rural planter,

Sold my mother to an urban store,

kept my sister in the big house,

and forced her to become massa's whore,

Could be that you've seen Tom?

can you tell me which way he run?

Got tired of working from dawn,

To the setting of the sun,

He plotted insurrection.

the day he broke his chains,

can you tell me in which direction,

He ran off in the rain?

Could be he followed a northern star,

on an underground train,

He is my grandpa,

bound by a DNA chain,

and what a story he could tell,

if only he had a name to claim

and a "free" paper trail.

Could it be you know me now?

Don't I look the same?

Could it be you seen me,

just a little while ago?

fighting to be free,

from Jim Crow

You think I should turn the page?

You tell me to get over it,

say the pain will subside with age,

but until you've ever lost a loved one,

then you can't understand my rage,

I thought slavery had ended

in the year of jubilee,

instead I found my love offended,

tarred and feathered,

strung from a tree,

even after two Civil Rights bills,

we still ain't free,

I know now you know me,

I know now that you do,

Allow me to introduce myself,

For brother I am you!

Victori © written 1992 second revision

Unchained

Unchained

Roosevelt Bass 10/1/1932-12/9/2016

To hear him laugh.

Or feel his joy,

Was to watch the man,

Unchain the boy,

Inside his heart,

Seldom did wrath,

Distemper deploy,

Or ever his rages run wild,

He chained the man

Inside the boy,

And freed his inner child,

To know his science,

Or figure his math,

Meant you confirm compliance

With his laugh,

To make us delirious,

Was the sum of his reason,

'Cause we never knew when he was serious,

Or just teasing.

Victori ©

RIP Pop

FaceBook Posts

On Vacay'

Feels good to be away
From the grind,
On safari through peace,
In a State of mind,
Good to be the observer,
With camera in hand
Instead of "May I be of service?"
Ready to lend a hand.
Just to sit back and watch,
The sights free of stress,
Or to pan in for the shots,
And be the annoying tourist.

victori ©—8/13/12

This House

Enjoy the peace in this house.
Away from the franctic world outside these walls,
The battles fought in shopping malls,
Or the stress of City streets
folks too hell bent on maliciousness,
Lurk round my door,
But inside these walls away from their viciousness,
I have a fortress from the war.
Just three doors,
Ten windows,
One thousand-three hundred nineteen square foot of floor.
Three hearts beat
One walks upright on two feet
The others down on four,
Relaxing to the sound of a fire roar,
As one head rest upon my lap,
And another on the floor.

Victori © Jan 7, 2012

Good Heavens

This year has been a roller coaster ride,
Of ups and Downs and turns,
And just when I think it will let me slide
Is when I feel the Burns,
Of not braking when I should,
And hitting curves, either too narrow or too broad,
And while I'm in a swerve,
Recalling All things work together for good,
FOR those who are in love with GOD!    Victori © October 4, 2011

Moving

Life should be lived in the sunshine, always in the sunshine,
Never in the shade,
Life's journey should be walked on the incline, always on the incline,
Never on the grade,
And when they see you moving, always keep on moving.
Never falling into the potholes that they've laid.
Victori---© September 14, 2011

Before you pray, believe. Before you criticize, encourage. Before you speak, listen. before you spend, earn. Before you take , give. Before you write, think. Before you quit, try and before you die, LIVE!!!!            September 1, 2011 

<3 <3 <3

To a "Nigga" on 8th and H Street

He staggers and stumbles,

relating these words he mumbles,

before he tumbles down,

I can't understand it,

it should be reprimanded,

that a nigga' be f--d around.


I listen in wonder,

as I begin to ponder,

the words He has avowed,

although, I can comprehend it,

it should be amended,

and those words never spoken aloud.


He has become so disgusted,

and his self-hood so rusted,

that he labels himself this way,

Man find strength in your sinew,

To discover the power within you,

And edit those words you say.


In a bottle you place hope,

The Lord is not in the dope,

surging through your veins,

the bottle holds you bound,

enslaved and beaten down,

and a slave you'll remain.


'Less you learn that nigga's are nonexistent,

a name the race was christened,

on a slave ship long ago,

surely we have outgrown it,

for never truly did we own it,

but were chained to it by a mocking foe.


You find it nonessential,

to rediscover your stolen potential,

and replace what was taken away,

For once we were Kings,

building empires for our Queens,

and it's time to recover the day.


So don't mumble, speak louder,

You are black be prouder,

and get up off the ground,

If you want respect demand it,

You're not a nigga' don't be branded,

then you won't ever be f--d around.

Victori © 1982

This Reality Show

This is just another rerun
of that ole' 70's Show
You know the one,
That silent film
Where they break into
a Hotel and nobody knows nothin',
remember they all plead the fifth?
then they all claimed they hadn't seen,
We've watched too many episodes, of this,
for nobody to know a thing,

Y'know that movie starring Haldeman, 

Ehrlichman, Mitchell and Dean?
'Bout Time we turn the channel,
or better yet unplug the set,
I'd rather be watching Scandal,
but this scandal is better yet.

And I can recall my favorite one liner
from that ole' silent flick,
"The American people don't believe,
anything unless they see it on television."
Means they practiced to deceive us,
Like a rehearsed derision,

And we keep falling for this shit.

What was that ole' actors game?
with his best supporting actor,
Who was the precursor of this,
Whose first four letters of his lastname 

referenced the prefix, of the inger-y {injury]

to which he wanted us to Kiss...

and what is this, the 45th?

And what of that drug lord,

who traded weapons for drugs?

and starred in an internal War,

against imposed thugs,

who didn't exist.
We've gone from the silent film era
to a B Movie with a twist,
to a blackploitation flick
And now we're living a reality show
This is the season of remakes
Seems we can't write anything original

We live for retakes, and sequels.

And they keep doing this to us

screwing us,

convincing us that the worst actors,

are a gift from God,

insisting that the worst actors,

get the Oscar nod,

and win by a landslide,

We have already had two cowboys,

a Bonnie and Clyde,

and John Wick,

and don't remiss the porn, 

with the sex toys,

or ole' Tricky Dick.

so grab your popcorn.

cause the plot is about to get thick.

We have already seen this,

On an episode of "The Apprentice,"

I don't want to see it again,

They can't mute the Menace

So instead they fire Flynn.

Then they can continue to decieve

because nobody claims to see,

As he strokes the ego of Putin,

but we can see with our own eyes,

which they tell us not to believe,

but there is no refuting,

We see through his lies,

And his press conferences are 

loaded with cries, of foul,

and social media deferences,

who voted for this child?

Those insane few,

Who dare say to me,  "I know he's racist but..."

BUT WHAT?

What's the basis of knowing,

Unless YOU are racist TOO?

NOW that's your reality showing!

Victori ©