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Lemonade by Beyoncé

Rarely, if ever, do I use my creative space to review another poet or creative's work, the reviews I do are on Tayé Foster Bradshaw's Bookshelf.

This release by Beyoncé has rested in my spirit for the past day, on the end of a week where a childhood friend died unexpectedly from a stroke and aneurysm while her granddaughter was being born and a few days after learning that Prince unexpected died sending purple rain upon us all.

It is only fitting that the week ended with imagery of my black woman, Creole Haitian heritage displayed with every bit of Yoruba spirituality and generations of mother's prayers.

The poet, Warsan Shire, a Somalian born woman squarely in the womanist voicing of her millennial generation, has given her sisters, mothers, and foremothers a gift, the gift of acknowledgement.

Sojourner Truth once asked, "Ain't I a Woman?" in a time when white womanhood was treated like a delicate flower, Beyoncé's musiciomentary seems to capture the completeness of that question with a resounding, "yes." The imagery of the past, present, complexities of being a black diasporian woman when we have been uncovered and unprotected, only feeling safe in the surroundings of our sisters, grieving together, celebrating together, growing together, she gives us release.

Listen meets Life is But a Dream meets Formation meets Lemonade and in it all, this young woman revealed the complexities of our emotions. We are giving back the lemons, refusing to compromise voice and presence, presenting ourselves in the fullness of our connectedness along Africa, the Caribbean, Europe, the Americas, every place where our melanin adds color to the sky.

This poetic work will be examined and explored more, still something that black women understood from the depths of our soul. Lemonade is a celebration, an acknowedgement, a redemption.


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