Pictured Happy Nia Productions at CBLG’s King Day tribute.

Presented at the event:

crying babies – income maybe’s and depressed mommas

pornographic tv – hate crimes and political drama

somebody’s struggling – can’t afford the meds – nightmares with commas

and even though i voted for him – i don’t even trust obama

contradictions – loose restrictions

we believe in the oh so obvious depictions

i’m a ghetto girl with acceptable diction

we killing the future – what’s your prediction

every pimp i ever met said he was a christian

i have a dream of my own – let’s invent a new mission

it ain’t that blacks commit more crime

we’re just more likely to be arrested

gay brothers no longer lead in cases of hiv

they’re just more likely to get tested

a white man’s death ain’t more important than mine

it’s just more likely to be protested

and i might say i’m a white girl if i gotta call the police

’cause she’s more likely to be protected

i wonder if birds can feel the wind that they are flying through

we gotta know already this thang is much bigger than me and you

we’re gonna have to pay someday for all the evil that we do

we left a dream unattended and a nightmare grew

i used to wish i was as gentle as martin luther king

but they ain’t yet wrote the national anthem that i wanna sing

i have not found the truest part of me that i wanna bring

even all these poems i write – they don’t mean a damn thing

’cause i am so sick of revolution as just a theory

all the meeting and the planning and pretension makes me weary

it’s like another whole layer – to the same conspiracy

i ain’t always proud of the soldier i find in the mirror, see

is this still a movement and what’s my role in it

i don’t wanna be gray-haired in lounges still reciting poetry with no soul in it

though there is sincerity in my work – there’s nothing left bold in it

i have tried to find vibrancy in this walk but i just feel old in it

all the poverty – all the silence

all the touching without kindness

bisexual and transgendered – we smother in silence

all the torn flesh – all the violence

nothing shocks us – anymore

nothing enrages us – anymore

a faggot is kindling used to start a fire – a dyke is good for stopping the flow of water

they need me to hate you – they need you to hate my daughter

my black brother, how can you laugh down these streets where my body lays slaughtered

i don’t always tell you how i feel betrayed by you, but today i think i oughta

what could possibly awaken us in these kinds of days

so many of us still struggling to find the means and ways

to stay above ground – sometimes i hate the sight of grinning lesbians & gays

or black folk who hold the sun but let the skies stay gray

maybe we just ain’t feeling anything

maybe we feel like we ain’t got no songs left to sing

maybe we don’t believe we got nothing good that we can bring

maybe we don’t feel worth the fight – we don’t feel like kings & queens

if we really wanted to honor dr. king – we’d be eating this in the street

we’d be passing out plates of food to all god’s children who can’t afford to eat

we would not be so relaxed – we would have calluses on our feet

from standing – between this reality and the dreams we hope to meet

but dr.king can’t be the only warrior that we see in here

’cause without my sheroes i would never even be in here

our struggle’s too male centered – don’t think i can fit all of me in here

i truly wonder if dr. king would’ve even wished us free – in here

it is still so cold and i see us pulling logs from the fire

i see us building bombs & just before detonation we cut the wire

i see us standing back w/arms crossed – daring ourselves to be inspired

i see us in this movement – talking without walking, just to be admired

is this still a movement and just where are we trying to go

even if we don’t know the answer – can we just agree that we don’t know

we gotta be willing to let the next generation reap the freedom that we sew

there is beauty in cutting off deadened branches so a bigger tree can grow

we’re so into labels and titles and positions on the board

arrogantly, we fault folk for not knowing information that we hoard

these separate movements create too many deaths for our people to afford

why don’t we have a breakfast honoring pat parker, marlon riggs & audre lorde

and we are gonna be the ones that tomorrow’s gonna grieve

but what will they say about us – what kind of legacy will we leave

let it be more than anger we ignored or pain we did not relieve

let it be something they can build on – some truth they can believe

i hope when we lay it down – we can say we honestly tried

i hope we broke down some walls – i hope we exposed some lies

i hope we taught a girl to scream – i hope we taught a boy to cry

let’s actually be the things we want them to say about us when we die

contradictions – lets write a real mission

we perpetuate the oh so obvious depictions

i’m a ghetto girl with acceptable diction

change never happens without the friction

we killing the future – what’s your prediction

contradictions – contradictions

– eninajay (for dr.king breakfast/2005)

e.nina.jay is a lesbian/womon activist, writer of african descent. she uses her work to break silences around all forms of violence against womyn and children, with particular focus on the intersection of gender violence, race and poverty. a survivor of rape and incest, e.nina.jay uses her writing as a tool for healing, light and power.