S. Amir Farrakhan 

Third place, poetry, Heard/Alexandria Detention Center writing contest, August 2021

My vision inferior,

in comprehension of your sacred Black exterior,

that beautiful pretty,

the likes of such I’ve never seen,

true invigorating phenomenon –

of the spectacular Ebony Queen.

Without a hint of conceit,

just flawless configuration from your head to your pretty little feet,

enshrouded in luscious regal brown epidermal –

making you scrumptious & unique, in harmony like a well composed song,

within your melody is where I know I belong,

your captivating presence can right any wrong.

Utmost enthralled that you exist,

your chocolate sexy can’t resist.

I live to need Blackwomanness,

those lips, hands and hips to kiss,

compel my heart to insist

that I emphatically persist,

to make you an integral part of it,

to pull you in as close as close can get,

knowing that you are a perfect fit

and until you’re mine I refuse to quit,

you’ve got my mind, body and soul lit –

Queen, Queen, you’re that damned exquisite

Beautiful pretty you’re pretty beautiful

and my vision sees nothing less,

true embodiment of heaven,

Black masculinity you truly bless.

We began as light energy,

essential to my free,

we developed and next we flee,

into the macroscopic stratosphere

of an atmospheric sea,

where can be found the beautifulest Black galaxy –

a place where we first met,

so never forget –

that we are the original,

our love for one another innately provisional.

So enunciates the Creator,

the Alpha regulator,

the All in All known as Allah, Maker,

Owner of that beautiful Black Star,

authentic Black God worshipped in the Motherland,

before our enslavement by the “other man”,

mankind kind of man,

biblical rider on the pale horse called Death,

who worked the hell out of us til we had nothing left,

responsible for over 100 million of us taking our final breath,

the most atrocious of slave histories

and the world’s greatest theft.

You were compelled to take a stand,

you were not only the woman,

you were also the man,

tending to my mental/physical wounds,

for more than 400 blood moons,

yet with all that on your plate,

I could feel your love proliferate

and that beautiful pretty that you still maintain,

throughout this haunted odyssey of tears & pain.

And I’m grateful you stayed,

unbeknownst to you I’ve begged,

prayed,

thanking Allah for this Black woman He made,

dauntless and beautiful in every hue of shade,

in my soul there’s a perpetual parade,

because I’m still here due to the price you’ve paid!