"The Motherland" is an original poem written by Amanda Manassah. The poem is broken down into three parts: melanin, coconut oil, and roots. This short film is a visual aid for the poem. "The Motherland" celebrates self-love, body positivity, and African culture.
The Motherland: A Visual Poem by Amanda Manassah
My life's a mess
I don't mind
I'm on my own time
Clock is ticking Flava flav feel It in my chest
Every day I struggle yes
To come to grips
Solo rolla by myself up in this bitch
I'm in hell
Heaven don't don't exist
I'll be damned
God's a sham
Religion just another government Cash rules all
Money to the rich
1 percent don't gaf the deficit It's no wonder when u see our president Hella bent
Detriment Tragic is the case
feel so much aggression Built from passive wa...
It is ironic
how much love
I gave out cause'
I didn't give much to myself.
Everyone always says
you can't love anyone else until you learn to
love yourself first...
I was 10 when I started
I wish I were as happy as I seem. I wish I were the perfect daughter you wanted me to be. I wish I truly believed in ... myself. I wish upon a star. Growing up with all I knew was my father as my prot...
At one point after you’ve moved on, you’ll look over at the person you had once been in pain over losing, and you’ll feel absolutely nothing. You’ll realize that all of the hurt and ...
The idea of going outside of the box cannot necessarily mean that we live outside of ourselves.
Some people say to
Look inside the box
If you would do right,
Or see the outside
If you would be...
I wonder if anybody knows what it feels like to be completely exhausted and not be able to sleep
So many people surround me but nobody ever speaks
Silence is golden until you've got so much to say
i am the montyest of pythons, because!
the man that stands over there on chair without a single care of despair
for he does not know here from there and didn't want to share or blare belief systems th...
We met about a year ago You were the cutest little thing We became friends in a coffee shop
I used to tell about my dreams I let you in Yea And I don’t do that a lot Yet somehow you were in my Circle ...
The battle is familiar and major,
Yet extra ingredients were flung in the meal.
T'is this same fight
Trio of black and white soldiers
Came up with preparations of force
Molded with intellect
And mashed with innocence.
Only, I unintentionally leap in
And my behavior is camouflaged
When musical transformation's expected.
The aquatic antagonist
Now forms into
A human Anna Tagonist.
Separated from his/her temper,
The soldiers and I are dragged
In a large room and the path's a mystery.
At a table, we...
A ball of Yarn so round and full
Complete with vibrant overlapping strands
So soft and whole
So much to give Endless creations to be made Unraveled,
Thread by thread for others to use
Each strand so d...
Public Service Announcement
But not the public the news focus on
The public that is affected by this phenomenon
This phenomenon that focuses on violence and drugs and killing
And all the bl...
To the kid that asked me today, " Why do you smile so much?"
I'm sorry, I lied I told you I smile because I'm living
And all though I am living
I feel very much dead
I smile because I was trained to
Brothers and Sisters
Hail to the guardians, keepers of the great halls,
We are; Chaos divine,
born of the mountain people,
You stand with or against us,
Your blood will spill as easily upon our chests...
Your death is louder.
All hail the helling of bells, barrage of spinster
Spiking coffee with morphine, and no one
Can hear it—your death is louder—like lozenge,
Louder like bullshit-banter-baculum-bra...
everyone going wild. A hectic party, suddenly,
a loud bang and everything crashes down,
collapsing to the floor.
Some may think this is the end,
but it is soon fixed,
I am a lone leaf
clinging on for dear life
Plodding along through the thick of it it
Scraping through school
Crawling out the other side
Trying to remain present
Making my mind to connect to my breath
Stopping my soul when it worries about the future
Swaying in the autumn breeze to the sweet sound of the wining wind
Waiting for the final inevitable fall
I'm either going to sore through the sky to success
Or drop to disappointment like the rest
But I'll focus on persisting through all ...
We start this battle with a rhythmic dissing, a fierce competition where an extensive vocabulary is your only ammunition. Like Rufio and Peter Pan, you know you've had a good punch line when the Lost ...