Vernacular Equations

by Robin Butts

These articulate verses
The bittersweet sensation that caresses my tongue
To speak what comes naturally to me

Those of me
Condemn thee
For speaking a way that comes naturally to me.

I can be no other
Than me.
Even thought they eyes may see

What some say that they see
Is the epitome of who I be
I be..
No other color and no other
Other than me.

I detect 
Because I walk with respect
That some say that I forget
Or maybe even neglect
My culture..

I say
Who are they to say
Tomorrow or today
How I stay

The ones that talk
Half naked showing little clothes
And the others address
As bitches and hoes..

I say
I embrace
what those try to erase
They are the vultures
Devouring the culture

Adapting to the negative
Forgetting the positive
Of, how as a people
We use to live.

Respecting the mothers
Looking up to the brothers
We had each other
No need for another..

So before you curse
The articulate verse
Think of the earth 
For whom I gave birth..

Vernacular Equations by Robin Butts

© Copyright 2002. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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