Black Tidal Waves on the Frontline

by DASAN AHANU

Don’t they say things change when the tears fall? Don’t they say ain't no reconciliation enough salve for the wound when that cheek wets. She is fed up and pissed off. Seen the injustice and has had enough. You know what this means. There must be answers. There must be action. There must be reason given for mercy. It betta be strong as thunder, lightning and the look on a pastor’s face.

This here mad be centuries long. It is deep and bellows like ghosts singing field hollers. You know you owe when these tears fall. You know you wrong when these tears fall. You know how long they been resilient, been in spite of, been looking beyond the darkness? This clenched fist and red cheek. This clenched jaw and blood boiling. This here walking knell sounding an inescapable song.

The notes aren’t a sorrowful sheet music. No, they are a harrowing reminder that the chickens have come let the roosters know freedom is letting go of a belief that the dinner table is necessary for their survival. They can feed themselves.

These tears are a warning shot. They are a familiar necessary to the sky and a hell no to the ground waiting for our bones.

When these tear fall, there will be no other option than to prepare for all that comes after and know that you deserved it.

Dasan Ahanu is an award-winning poet, performance artist, cultural organizer and curator. He has performed across the country, appeared on national radio and TV, and published four books of poetry. He swings a mean pen and represents the SOUTH.