Black is no beast by Ntaoleng Patience Labane

Ntaoleng Patience Labane | Oct 31st, 2020 | poetry | No Comments


You can never bury a Black boy
He’s made of Earth,
Of clay
He’s cooked by the sun
It learned to turn him into a black hole
Now Black boy swallows stars
Nothing can appease or sate his hunger
Never his flesh
Not even his death
He will hold a gun
Suppress his inner child
Curl his tiny fingers around the trigger
Hoping to grow with each blow
To become a man he knows
He must live on his knees
And crawl to where the sun shines the brightest
He will want to squeeze it in the palm of his tiny hand
For he is a blackhole
He knows only to swallow stars
Perhaps he’s hoping to be magic
But all he is is a corpse
With a tiny beating heart
And a chest cavity collapsing at the weight of all his troubles
For he does not understand anything
Not from the moment he was pushed out of a mother who is now a stranger
Perhaps even cold clay returning to its origion
Black boy doesn’t know where the dead go
Only that they are not here and he is
Perhaps he’s dead
He’s just struggling to find his light

Poet Bio

Ntaoleng Patience Labane is a poet from the Free State. She has her own podcast called Her Thoughts, you can catch it on Spotify,, Google podcasts and Oncast.

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