My Skin My Logo
Day Three of the new Blackstack series, "Seven Days of Black Poetry," and B4's poem is rooted in the vibes of my skin my logo, not as the song but those four words alone.
As Black people, there’s this weight that we carry. We joke about women carrying a lot of junk in the trunk, and niggas moving weight in the streets. But we never really acknowledge what we are carrying that creates that heaviness. The weight that men carry on their backs every time they walk through the door, and the world’s heaviness that women carry on our shoulders.
Yet, even while carrying that weight we still hold our heads high careful not to let our crown fall to the ground. We never question why the weight only seems to lie with us Black folk, we just carry it knowing to do so is to honor thy ancestors that carried it before us.
We may have our moments of exhale from all that we inhale, because we’ve learned that the key is to breathe through it. B4 raises a great question in his poem, why is this shit so heavy?
Yeah, My Crown Is Heavy
Written by B4
Yeah, my crown is heavy
Like my chain and my bravado
My arrogance
My elegance
Reminds you of aficionados
Who flash bravado but practice peace
Who run the streets and remember to teach
That my crown is heavy
Like the weight lifted on my shoulders
Young
Impressionable
Filled with disdain
For the world I walk in
Forces us to play this game
With no head start and a hard to cheer name
You could understand why my crown is heavy
If you were like us
If you faced a fight every morning to love and trust
A world built by your blisters that you shield from rust
You add everything to the pot and yet you’ll never be a plus
So, the crown is real heavy
We’d love to let it sit on the throne
Dust off ya shelf and let it find a new home
But you wouldn’t cherish the care
Find strength in the weight
Linger in the light and let it contemplate
Why this shit so heavy?
How many people put this thing on
How many of my dawgs been singing this same song
So, you’ll make your own crown
And mumble all our songs
Yeah, this crown is heavy
Be glad you’ll never hold it for long
An Easter Sunday Special
Over the next seven days I will be publishing new poetry exclusively submitted to Blackstack by Black poets in the community. Y’all really don’t get enough love in the writing world, so I created the “Seven Days of Black Poetry” series for us.
A Return Home
There’s a lot of conversation now about our titles being used as verbs. Recently, the word ‘sisterhood’ has been introduced as a verb and that discourse triggered a thought about mothering and fathering as verbs.
 | A guest post by
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