Yesterday, I ran across a diary/post on dailykos.com which included an amazing spoken word performance. The poem, by Darian Dauchan, is called “Damn You Barack Obama, You Pretty Motha fu*ker!”. Frankly, I was blown away. Darian’s words embody the coolness, intelligence, complexity, and fervor of the mold-breaker we know as Barack Obama. For maximum effect, read the words then watch the video.
Damn, damn, damn!
Damn you Barack Obama,
sounds like Osama,
and don’t make me mention your middle name: Hussein
his middle name is Hussein, what?
Let me tell you something Mr. Senator, stop being so fucking charming!
cut it out!
we like that shit!
strutting like Sidney Poitier
killing the propaganda of politics with logic like Malcolm
and finding common ground like Martin
you a pretty motherfucker. Sucker!
You think this country is ready for you? oh what, you gon’ make them ready for you?
I downloaded your speech on youtube, pshht, it was a’ight.
actually it was more than all right it was fucking great!
why you gotta be so eloquent?
white folks’ mouths dropped in awe, black folks’ mouths smile with pride,
why you gotta get everybody all worked up man?
And I’ll admit I, I, I broke down and I bought your book, pshht, it was a’ight.
actually it was more than all right it was fucking fabulous!
why you gotta be so prolific?
paragraphs profound with remnants of Ralph Ellison,
lines linger with a love of language and literature,
you’re a fascinating motherfucker.
And I got news for you, I hate to break it to you,
but I made a vow to the heavens that if this dude ran
man if this dude actually ran…
I’d join a campaign. damn!
Dammit Barack! you piss me off!
Because you have me daring to believe in you.
I worry about you, dog.
Cause you know as well as I do that great people’s livespans don’t last long.
I catch myself saying prayers for you at night. Punk.
And I’m wondering when this honeymoon will hurtle to a halt
when will these expectations expire
when will your fame fickle to a frenzy
as this country and its people turn on you as they often do.
and I’ve seen the evils that leaders do
the fractions of faults folded behind business suits,
under the presented nobility rest adultery, hypocrisy, corruption and contradiction.
When will your demons come to light?
When will your skeletons creep from the closet?
slip and say the wrong thing,
start compromising yourself, your ideals, your integrity, til there is nothing left of you.
Because you know as well as I do that great people with good intentions
have lost their souls in the process,
fighting for freedom but in the end settling for power
but we’re a needy people
see we demand so much of our heroes,
we forget they’re human beings,
placing pedestals so high no mere mortal could reach them.
Longing for saints when all we really want
is someone to aspire to be like.
To remind us that we can all be better but our hearts have been broken.
It’s as if we’re learning to love again.
Yet I still can’t help but not have faith in you,
not wish the best for you. So damn you Barack.
For turning this cynic into a believer in the ideal of the Audacity of Hope damn you Obama.
rhymes with Osama
pretty … muh’fucka.