The Legacy of Ancestral Scars
Undocumented immigrant,
Like those millions
Of foreigners traumatized
By the lights of a Negrophobic Republic,
Heir to the dark pages of the Black Code.
Heir to the indelible scars of slave plantations,
The pains of my color are eternal,
Like the morbid lamentations of the Wall of Palestine.
My impure soul has been perfumed
With the stench of slave ships.
I do not consume all the products
That my deported ancestors
Planted for free in the fields of the Caribbean.
My heart is crushed by hatred,
As if I had just suffered police brutality.
I nourish my mind
With the humiliations of human zoos.
I will never trust them.
I am paranoid like a fugitive criminal.
I have lived in the garbage heaps
Of a colonial trading post.
I know every whim of poverty.
I know every face of opulence.
I do not want their love.
My heart died
In the bowels of my own hell.
I enjoy quarreling with my demons.
I enjoy flogging my ghosts with every victory.
I do not have a beautiful life,
But the existence of an extraordinarily free spirit.
I wish death upon my enemies.
I fall asleep in my nightmares
To keep my dreams alive.
I am not a poet,
But a prophet with demonic predictions.
I do not believe in a thousand virgins,
But in liberation through revenge.
There is no life after death,
Only a new life for a new death,
In a new and more chaotic dimension.
I came into this world
To wage war until my last breath.
No remorse,
Nothing personal in this apocalyptic jungle.
They will all end up in my sights
If they sabotage my interests.
I have seen migrants drown before my eyes.
I have seen mothers throw their babies into the sea
To taste the horrors of Negrophobia.
I do not believe in peaceful coexistence
Between predators and their prey.
I will never play the victim.
I break their laws while avoiding their prison sentences.
I will never be a house *****.
I am simply a Black man proud to be Black.
I am proud to see hatred disfigure their faces
When I terrify them with the violent horrors
That their ancestors inflicted upon mine.
They can keep their love.
I do not write
To subscribe to offers of lifelong visibility.
I write so that my dark thoughts
Do not materialize.
I am an angry man,
Not a doormat chasing fame.
Life has condemned me;
Death will acquit me.
The Devil slanders me
Since I learned that he is at my service.
I have no problem
With trampling on morality
If it means escaping precarity.
I do not play, and I do not participate.
Do not waste your time:
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