Lumbar Puncture: de-raced

I want to take a needle…
And draw all the melanin from my skin.
Store it in a jar and put it on a coffee table-
For all the world to see that what makes me different
Can be traced underneath a microscope.

And maybe the only way I can learn to be human
Is to be transparent
see-through the the skin-coloured
Goggles that separate
Voices and faces
Hearts and heads
Lives and loves.
to walk through the world like a daytime ghost
Haunting the spaces
Where they wont let my colour be.

I want to be the blank canvas
The full tube of paint
The brand new book
The twilight sky
A sealed bottle of spring water-
I want to be the firstborn child of Utopia
Of daylight ghosts whose only race is to the finish line.

And when we wish we can sit in the sun
With needles made of idioms
And a jar of melanin reflecting rainbows
Redefining what it means to be black.

Siphokazi Jonas

Occupation: Under Construction

I am a spoken word artist, subject to God the Word. I write about the world above me, the world around me and the world within me. I am learning that my poems must always be bigger than me if ever they are to mean anything.