Older Than Hip Hop

Before 16 bars imprisoned words,

before rhymes were as predictable

as a cop’s nightstick upside your head,

my pen positioned itself

in the continuum of black words.

Shaka Zulu and Uhuru

are the main threads of my weave

so there’s no need for me to loom

larger than sacred life.

I’ll leave that to you and you and you

while my words through the needle go

attempting to be part of the quilt

reconnecting the unraveled threads of black life.

I’m not a superstar.

I’m just a star shining alongside my fellow stars.

Together, we illuminate what’s right

and I like it like that.

So you and you and you

can keep on masturbating  to finger snaps

while I read ngugi

trying to decolonize my mind

so that my words can turn into wombs

breeding the fire next time.

© 2007 Tichaona Chinyelu