Quinzee the Artist
Untitled
Pencil
Response
Black Space
By Darice M. Jones
Inspiration piece
My people are the cool dark vast
The clap and clank
of tom drum
and tambourine
across time and interstellar truth
We rhythm not as entertainment, but as life
We sonic not as a precursor to your clapping, but as soul reverberating
We display not for your amusement, but to remind each other exactly where we’re from
Look way up and to the left as far as your neck will crane
in the deepest part of late night
Telescope this vibe
Osekꞿ be the 12th galaxy if you tilt to the left at the 3rd sun
Come get you some greens in portal pots and find out the family secrets your great, great, grandmother
flung into the sky for safe keeping
She knew one day you would come
All the way out to the way out
Sick and tired of being played on the blue orb
And made to sing songs of lesser energies, written for you by immature despots
She pinned an invisible note to the cloth diaper that was wrapped around your tiny brown frame on day
one by the ultimate midwife
“Don’t get played baby
You ain’t nobody’s instrument
You ain’t nobody’s game
You are sound itself
You are the creative spark
And
You are many more futures than their algorithms can build rules for or their satellites can reach
You are expression
That thing that makes matter, and light, and sonance get busy mingling together and making new
worlds”
We are all so grateful that you got curious
You broke through the conditioning that made you feel like anything less
Than the rhythmic power of life manifest with a purpose
To emerge as the most fully realized version of You
You, child, are my people
And
My people are the cool dark vast
The clap and clank
of tom drum
and tambourine
across time and cool cosmic truths.
Written by Darice Marcella Jones
In the Year of Toni Morrison ©2023
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