Bruised Fruit
We are tossed aside bruised fruit,
bitter, angry flowers of a generation of men.
Blackened banana, brown exposed apple core.
Who would not know us or our beauty?
Flowers of a generation of men.
Scream of a million sway-back brown women.
Who would not know us or our beauty?
Desires chastened by abysmal hunger.
Scream of a million sway-back brown women.
Daughters of moonlight carry love’s calabash.
Desires chastened by abysmal hunger.
Life pulses in us like the knowing in Sula’s eye.
Daughters of moonlight carry love’s calabash.
Some settle for being second and third wives.
Yet life pulses in us like the knowing in Sula’s eye.
What love can quench a drought four centuries long?
Some settle for being second and third wives.
Daughters, sisters, keepers of moonlight.
What love can quench a drought four centuries long?
Wise women, gather from Palmeres to Charleston.
Daughters, sisters, owners of moonlight.
Seeds our men sow in other villages undo us.
Wise women, gather from Palmeres to Charleston.
Forgotten, yet open fields of our future billow.
Seeds our men sow in other tribes undo us.
We who own power of plums beckon.
Forgotten, yet open fields of our future billow.
Sounds of getupandkkeepthis planet together women.
We who own power of plums beckon.
Blackened banana, brown exposed apple core.
Sounds of getupandkkeepthis planet together women.
Some say we are tossed aside bruised fruit.
