Uppity Darkie
Light minded people say I’m an uppity darkie
They color me bad,
with a black face, felt pen Sharpie
Vanilla voices downright don’t like
the audio sounds of this mouthy darkie
They say I’m way too uppity,
don’t know what my proper place be
Snow cone hats say they gon have to teach me,
there's a painful cost for thinking free
They wanna call the fascist calvary and give me
some old-fashioned triple Kord rope justice,
by them good ole boys neo-Nazi vigilantes
They say my strait Nazarene speech
borders on treason,
that it needs to be muzzled
But I’ve always given king Pharaoh Caesar
his required slave taxes —
His printed paperweight metallic tribute ...
so what’s the dispute?
My Herodian enemies want so bad
to reach into their torture trick bag,
and gag my mouth with a gasoline soaked rag
Then lie in wait for my muffled words
to set that tri-colored cloth on fire
Red cheek coconut meat,
dressed in blue uniforms pressed neat,
wanna beat, kick, pound
some patriotic sense into me
Giving thinly veiled warnings:
saying ship that ghetto talk back to Africa
Carting rice-colored evil thoughts
that are Balaam Iscariot store bought
Walking weeds in the Goshen grassroots,
wearing bloodstained slaughterhouse coats,
got indigo disdain for this uppity darkie
They wanna sell some
strange rotting fruit hanging from a tree
Hating me because I stood up
in the open free market place
And declared with Lion of Judah boldness,
they were selling the people rancid red meat lies
wrapped in waxy white packages
And giving State-Don’t-Care samples away
of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer bottles of hate
I ain’t nothing but a pseudo-smart, intellectual wannabe
It’s what my rabbit ears detractors say ...
yeah, that’s how they regard me
As just another trouble making uppity darkie
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017
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