The nuclear family is not our legacy. It was forced on us after enslavement, after colonization, after they dismantled our villages and called it progress. Our love was communal. Our families were circles.
No woman mothered alone.
No man carried everything in silence.
No child was raised without a tribe.
They made us believe love needed licenses, that survival was success, that ownership was intimacy. But we remember — we come from land, from lineage, from fire, from shared hands and sacred roles.

I don’t want love that imitates empire.
I want relationships that restore our people.
I want family that feels like land and protection.
I want children raised by a nation, not a nuclear prison.
I want rest for our women, emotional freedom for our men, and reverence for our elders.
This is not about choosing poly or monogamy — this is about choosing sovereignty.
I’m not here to fit into systems that broke us.
I’m here to build what they tried to erase.
I am the return of the village.

Happy Birthday Huey P. Newton! Co-founder of the Black Panthers!✊🏾❤️🖤💚

This was written by one of my soul tribe brothers. Just like some of y'all we're kindred spirits.

From One Father to Another: Happy Father's Day
By: Antonio Overton

From one dad to another, I honor your fight,
The way that you battle, then tuck them in tight.
We carry the world, but say that we're fine,
Building a future while falling behind.

They call us providers, protectors of peace,
Expected to lead, yet offered no lease.
No space to break down, no room for a tear,
Just “man up and handle,” and mask every fear.

We're heroes and villains in the same breath,
Feared for our truth, yet blamed for their stress.
Loved when it's easy, ignored when it’s tough,
Praised when we're dead, but alive, it’s not enough.

A father’s a guide, a compass, a light,
Who walks through the shadows to bring kids to right.
He gives without asking, works past the pain,
Smiles when it's storming and walks through the rain.

They say, “be strong,” but never ask how.
We give all we have, but who holds us now?
Our dreams sit on shelves while we make theirs come true, Yet still, we keep pushing, because that’s what we do.

We fix what's been broken and swallow the ache,
For the legacy, not for the praise that we make.
They might never see it, at least not today,
But greatness grows quietly in fathers who stay.

So how do we rise when the world sees us small?
We remember our "why"—and that love conquers all.
We’re writing a story, one choice at a time,
A legacy etched in more than a rhyme.

To be a great father is deeper than fame,
It's showing your child that love has a name.
That name might be yours, worn heavy with pride,
A man with a mission and angels beside.

So brother, keep going—though respect comes late,
We don’t do it for flowers, or thanks at the gate.
We do it for purpose, for roots that run deep, For the seeds that we water while losing our sleep.

Happy Father’s Day—this crown that you wear,
Is heavy, unseen, but none can compare.
Stand tall, even when no one claps when you do.
Because a father like you?
Is a rare chosen few.