We go off effortlessly.
From hip whining to master
degrees, we can be both even if
you disagree.
The mothers of civilization,
we are creative, hip and cool.
Trendsetters born with disco
lights, lighting up worlds and
turning nothing into something
like Jesus with his wine.
The most disrespected, the most
forgotten, but steady ascending.
Here is some of our
black girl magic.
How do we do it?
Where does it come from?
Is it the honey, chocolate, coal and sun
in which we are born?
Or is it our bones, wide, strong, also
small and narrow?
It must be in our hands for when we
write a song or a play.
Maybe it's our moves, our strong voices,
even the ones that aren't loud as a church bell.
Maybe it's in our large hoop rings, dreads and
box braids.
Hell, it may even be our 24-inch yaki, black or blue
just know it's silky and we paid good money for it.
Big lips to match our hips.
Hips that birth babies,
and even if they are without daddies,
our daisies will be just fine.
Here is some of our
black girl magic.
The how do we do it.
The where does it come from.
Well simply put,
goddesses are born not made.
There is no recreation, no
imitating.
No new make or model.
No such thing as duplication.
Here is some of our
black girl magic.
The how do we do it.
The where does it come from.
Might be the wells in which we swim,
or the beams that we walk and
twirl on winning gold.
Our magic bold.
The way we help NASA
configure their hidden
figures.
Here is some of our
black girl magic.
The how do we do it.
The where does it come from.
Some place in us deep,
tucked steep.
Making it's appearance
when we study chess
or when we hit the Grande
Jeté.
Here is some of our
black girl magic,
that can never be duplicated,
but somehow always underestimated.
