BB&W Exclusive

Queen Today, Bitch Tomorrow, a poem by Nicole

Queen Today, Bitch Tomorrow

Unrest, protest, marching in the streets

Rubber bullets to the face, and chanting on repeat

Showing up and out to support a prominent cause

All the while just ignoring the community’s internal flaws

But pay attention, listen up, because this much is true

Black women, you should stay at home, this fight is not for you.

For all the pain you endure today, for all the mournful sorrow,

You’ll get called a queen today, and then a bitch tomorrow.


Why should black women stay home? Well I’m glad you asked

Because social justice warrioring is quite a dangerous task.

While marching, you’ll be sweaty, bloodied, and covered in dirt

Because toppling injustices is hard and strenuous work

You fight the men, though not a man, squared up ‘gainst guns and shields

Your fist held high, your mouth agape, a warrior who will not yield

This strips your femininity though, a frequent black male complaint

We are loud and ratchet, soft and delicate we sure ain’t

Our hair is fake, our lashes too, acrylics coat our nails

Where other race women are “more feminine”, to them, the black woman fails

But then they have no problem when we push our femininity back

To march and scream and cry for them when they’re under attack

This internal hypocrisy is something you should skip

By staying home and letting the black men go right the ship

Because I bet, in no time flat, we’ll return to BAU

And if things don’t go to plan, who gets the blame? “Bitch, you!”

For all the work you’ve done today, the time in the shine is borrowed

You’ll be called a queen today, angry black bitch tomorrow.


Women are being snatched up at these rallies left and right

But no one seems to ever care about black women’s plight

If you dare call out something like the hate that’s spewed online

You’ll be rebuffed with choruses of how “now is not the time”

They have the nerve to rap about the loyalty these “hoes” lack

But on the frontlines of this war, does Becky have their back?

I’m yet to see the likes of Becky, Prisha or Mei Ling

Or Consuela or Karen do much of anything.

But guess who is lining up to keep the front lines manned?

Keisha, Latanya, and Monique have everything in hand.

Meanwhile black males use their mixed daughters as some sort of shelter

Too busy hiding behind A CHILD as the world goes helter-skelter

The only time unambiguous dark-skinned women and girls get shine

Is when they risk their lives and limbs screaming on the damn front line

But just you watch, in weeks to come, how quickly the tides turn

As black women go from queen to bitch…and yet we never learn.

Black women are out in droves you see, to defend her precious kings

But the nonblack women that these dudes praise are not doing the same thing

This is a strange dichotomy in which black women exist

Her valor is approved today, tomorrow that strength makes her a bitch.

Today you will be praised for taking bullets to the eyes

Tomorrow you’ll be cursed out for “dysfunction that leaves your thighs”.

Today you will be commended for being a general in this war

Tomorrow you’ll be back to being a hair-hatted hooligan whore.

Today you’ll be a warrior whose words stirred folks to action

Tomorrow you’ll be in last place when it comes to black male attraction

You’re lauded for your eloquence, the strength in how you speak

But compliments are fleeting, so you’ll be a bitch next week

Even though your love for them is deep, from heart to your bone marrow

You’ll be called a queen today, but white girls winning tomorrow.


You marched for them, got maced for them, got trampled, stomped and beat

You stood up on the front lines facing militarized police

You put their plight ahead of yours for what seems the millionth time

But what tangibles has all this brought other than video clips online?

To you black women I have to say I think this marching should stop

There are other ways to fight the man than getting shot at by cops

This is indeed bigger than just one man, on that we do agree

But I can’t help but notice the significant discrepancy

The protests and the movements launched to seek justice for George Floyd

Are significantly more widespread than that for Rekia Boyd.


They want you to march for them amidst a whole pandemic

While quietly ignoring the domestic violence epidemic

“Now is not the time!” they shout, when we bring up black women’s pain

But when this is over, it won’t be long, before it’s all our fault again

In time I’m sure I’ll be accused of being mean, divisive

Along with common epithets intended to be derisive

It’s amazing to see in real time, how effortless it is to switch

From being hailed as a black queen, to dark skinned nappy bitch

But alas, the community was divided long before I ever hit the scene

I guess that means I am a bitch, ‘cause I don’t want to be your queen


Today you are a queen for them, your strength they admire and use

Tomorrow though, you’ll be a bitch, back to the usual abuse

Today you are a freedom fighter, a loyal ride or die

Tomorrow you’ll be back in place as the community’s fall guy

Today you are a powerful voice, clearly articulating

Tomorrow you won’t let a man lead, “Bitch, you’re so emasculating!”


Keep catching mace and bullets for those who would not even think twice

To use you as a shield, excuse, a mule, or sacrifice

The black mother is always the one to blame when shit hits the wall

But when it’s time to hit the streets, it’s not your dad you call

The entitlement to black women’s labor, despite enduring black male hate

Should really make black women say “no sir, too little too late”


I can’t help but see how much black women get up in arms

When black males are unjustly murdered, compared to when they themselves are harmed

It seems as if the only crimes that warrant a response

Are those against black males. All others merit nonchalance

There’s all this energy out there for coppers in the streets

But nothing for the pervert uncle touching your babies

The chants of black lives matter become harder to believe

When tomorrow it’ll be our fault again, through child support and weave.


All in all, you all are grown, the choice is yours to make

Whether protesting or staying home is the route you take

As for me, my marching days were done in high school band

But rest assured there are other ways that we can lend a hand

So no, I won’t be marching, I’ll not make a single sign

Those boots and flapping capes to wear can pass me right on by

I acknowledge though, that you’re adults and can do whatever you wish

Just be aware today you’re a queen. Tomorrow? Same old bitch.


Copyright Nicole, Beyond Black and White, 5 June 2020

Disclaimer: This poem was written by me, Nicole, and my ideas are not necessarily reflective of Christelyn Karazin or other writers on this platform.


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