Activities of Anonymous User

Poetry
As we reverence the relevance of our melanin. The historicity of black excellence is prevalent. Parading our pioneers for our pleasure and paying homage. To those who hung from our heritage. but I won't act as if I'm an activist I'm an afican american Trinitarian more of a black evangelist. And I was called a contradiction for the same reason i'm here twice as much being black and a christian. I didn't mean to go for the trifecta when I told yall that I believed that I believe in the trinity. Then I realized if they hate christ without a cause well they'll hate me for anything. But I won't give them a reason. I'm unapologetically apologetic. I just added to my defense. Im weaving all conjecture and every arbitrary claim to the obituary that couldn't carry his name cause he's still living. Oh y'all thought death did us part, say he renewed his vows. Long story short I'm still with him. Monogamous and monotheistic, yeah I'm about that life. Some may mention Jesus but we ain't talking about the same christ, where they call me whitewash and that ain't even the color of his blood I bathed in it. So y'all tell me what's the color of his love when my belief thrived in Tunisia before Europe was among North Africa. You see I got the Trinity from tertullian and this hooligan got ahold on after nations and went to school again. Then read the slave narratives like, I'll never be a fool again. I came to put the silence, the ignorance of foolish men that confused true Christianity with this western depiction. It's not a white man's religion, just suffered from the white man's rendition. But do you see the mental condition, when we try to counteract Christ's cross-cultural convictions. Salvation is independent of pigment, for instance Christ was treated more negro than you. And you can see the domino effect on the big six cause Nero had simon barjonia speeder role too. Don't think you accomplished anything when you locked the game because when Christ rolled the stone and exposed his hands, all you've seen was a double blank. The tomb and your expression on your right hand and his left hand. The truth and your suppression is proof that you're rejected. And they try to tell me that Christians can't be conscious, stop trying. They're lying. Were both conscious I'm just praying there's not seared with a hot iron cause hell had been launched herself. So working out your own soul salvation is the only way to exercise. Yall pray for me.
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I think the only way to kill racism is we got to do more things together you know as black and white I really do I think we ought to go on more picnics together I think we ought to have more
company outings I think if we're gonna have positions passed out in corporate America we ought to proportionately have the same amount of corporate positions as everybody else if you're gonna pass out spots in the cabinet in the White House you ought to pass in my proportionately let us have the same amount as everybody else you know I think we ought to do a whole lot of things together now when you come to going to church and pretty much where I think we ought to just draw the line it ain't gonna work I done seen it it ain't happening trust me it's some stuff going on at some white folks Church that you ain't gonna be able to get next to and this damn show some stuff going on at your church that they sure ain't gonna be able to get next to so they don't need a busing over to your favorite Church just go to the one that's around the corner from your house I done tried to before I know some white people stay out in Beverly Hills and one time they asked me to go to service Widow I should have knew right there and handle being a gone cut I ain't never been to service to be Pope I didn't been to church I ain't no
goodness service I said it right to church C-U-R-C-H touch my church church is the building you attend church is the activity that going once you get inside the building that's what I'm talking about while with the service with these white people I don't know if you don't never heard white people pray or not if you ain't you need to go at least one time it's an amazing thing
these people happen to be Catholics I don't even know who date they befriended they talk to God like he stay next door you know like he's a buddy like he got a membership after why
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A black Christian's paradox. One, God exists. Two, God is an all-power all-knowing and benevolent. Three, a benevolent being would want to prevent all evil. Four, an all knowing being foresees every evil and means of preventing that evil. Five, an all-powerful being has the power to prevent evil from happening. Six, a benevolent being would do everything in its power to prevent evil. Seven, if there exists an all-powerful all-knowing and benevolent God then no evil would exist. Eight, evil exists. Nine, parishioners were killed while praying to God. ten, fingers clamps around a weapon turned a body of believers to holy for words and there are no holy words to fix this. There are no scriptures that can quiet this cognitive dissonance. God if you exist why aren't you listening. What could they ask for in your son's name. What part of that amen made a man see a sanctuary as suitable for shooting a major house. A mass with stained glass, ground and fused your children's blood shed for the sins of men. But I can feel no safety, not in my home, not in my neighborhood, not in my schools, not in my job, not at churches. God how many more bullets will pick black bodies as places to worship. Our chests makeshift cathedrals for shell casings. Our lives, nothing more than mourning songs set up for you to get the glory. How long will our welling groans and gnashing teeth be the hymnals that angels sing their feet. God if you exist why aren't you listening, or are you? Is our suffering soothing as nature sounds? Should we Christian though our cries until our voices quake to the clouds. At that point would mercy reign? At that point would justice reign be only just another rainy day? Another face, another name forgotten that it was fearfully made, wondrously created in your image. God do you still see us in your image? Do you see us God your earthbound children, the ones of us who suffer for the sake of your righteousness? Those of us who are too bronze and clay colored for comfort. Do you see us, God? We are dying to know if you still notice.
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So last week I was informed that when black people die and go to heaven they go through this purification process and God will turn them white like everybody else in heaven. No, no your laughing like real talk. When we get to the pearly white gates, we get some white shoes, a golden halo, white wings, white skin. A white robe that's probably hooded and the curse of Ham gets lifted. Um, so before I chalk this up to the dumbest thing I've ever heard at a historically white college university I decided to ask some questions cause who knows, they might be white. They might be right. So first does God turn us white before or after we get to heaven. Like when we die does the black skin fall off our white bones or do we Michael Jackson moonwalk off our melanin strutting to a lighter shade. Do we remove our black like a coat? Does God hang it on the nearest tree, while we all watch and pose for postcards? Is the halo actually a really fine toothed comb that you can't really fit on your head if your hair nappy? Do they sell blue magics Obama's cocoa butter at the angel supermarket or just mayonnaise? Or, do we shed our skin to the sound of privilege seeping into our souls after waking up morning after morning. The streets, paved with gold cuz apparently God just loves gold, while these riches we obviously couldn't have afford in our short lives make the black skin wanna crawl off our bodies. Is this what inheritance feels like? Question two, if everybody white do anybody clap on beat? Three, is this what they did to Jesus, when he died on the cross all woolly haired and whatnot. When he looked up and asked God why he had forsaken him. Did God look back down at him and say "You should have been white". Don't know why you asked to be colored, why you ask for all that excellent. You know it comes with a cost, no don't get crossed with me young man I told you. You hung out with murderers and thieves, you would hang with them too you know. They're gonna call you white after you save them anyway. They will wash you white as snow, clean you up for the camera. You know they say good deeds smell just like clorox bleach and have the same effects. Watch them do you the same way they do history. Honestly I don't think I would say all that which is why I was asking the question. Last question. If God turns me white what will I think about black people? Will I look at them the same way you look at me so to hell with that.
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As a girl my family emigrated from Kenya, to the United States. New country, new people, new language. But the one thing that remained was the presence of my savior Jesus Christ. This didn't surprise me. I grew up knowing my god was everywhere. That he saw everything. I believed him to be a benevolent being whose image I was created in. Even as I looked up at his portrait that was hanging in my grandmother's home. A frame full of blonde hair. Pink and pale skin. Eyes a light blue, piercing enough to draw blood. An image so holy, but one that did not allow me to see myself in my creator.

But as a child, it didn't matter. I believed in the word of god. I read it like a love letter he wrote to me. I saw the preacher as the postman speaking of deliverance each service until one day in sunday school we were wrapping english bibles for poor kids in Botswana and I wondered in what language did God listen? Did he hear my prayers clearly in Swahili? Did he hear me better now that my amens were sent up in a foreign man's tongue? A foreign man whose face looked more like his blue eyed son I'd seen growing up. I thought maybe we sent english bibles because of his ears, they tasted the sweet sound of prayer better when spoken in this tongue. I know looking back it sounds like a silly moment to start questioning your faith. But that day I learned that once the seed of doubt is planted its roots will always thirst.
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