Queen Tingz

Queens don’t always talk

Or look nice and polished.

But we still handle our business regardless.

When I look up the sky

And see the midnight constellations


As beautiful and untouchable as ever,

I remember the queens of past generations

Who did their best

To be bread, butter, and breast

For entire nations.


This should be cause for celebration.


But Phenomenal women rarely

get the recognition we deserve.

We have to yell to be heard.

And we have to bow to Kings

To have our legacy preserved.


Behind every powerful King,

There was a patient Queen

Who had to play wife and mother to a high strung brother

Who actually had to choose

between his pride and his people.


History keeps replaying like a broken record on repeat.


Because just like my mother, and my grandmother,

And her mother, here I stand

As a tall dark melanated queen

With this Crown on my head

and the same chains on my feet.


My sisters, don’t be mistaken

This cycle is ours for the breaking

Because unlike our mothers and grandmothers

We have the access and options

To bring injustice to a stopping.


The world has tried to divide us Melanated Queens by color, wealth, and body size.


But they could never conquer our minds.

Let’s stop clinging to the kambiya

of fake unity and stand in solidarity

Because we are sisters

Born of the same struggle.


Let’s usher in a new era of

Accountability and

Support our sisters who have survived

A man’s entitlement and curiosity.

Let’s liberate each other through acceptance and honesty.


Because in love there is no violence and we, the melanated queens, are done suffering silence.