Ashley Carnival

My blackness is…





Unexplainable at times.  

You see Melanin courses through my skin as a gradual release cap of youth and vitality,

Equipping me with an exterior that defies gravity and reality.

My eyes, darkened with the shadows of pain and disappointment while lightened with the possibility of progress and excellence,

Filled with honor and promise, setting their sights on definite prominence.

My scalp produces curls softened by the oils plucked from Earth’s nectar and her roots,

Curls that are a regal crown, covering my desires, my wishes, my truth.

Lips are accentuated with the sensual and luscious texture of Caribbean fruit…. Millions divest thousands to replicate the pout that I was blessed with.  

My cheekbones need no contour, they rest as high as the Himalayas, with a smile so powerful that Kilimanjaro becomes a verb, no longer a noun.

Of course my blackness is a threat.

That much natural beauty is sheer power.

I am dark.  I am light.

I am brown.  I am the light.

What is silicone?  Such an atrocity has never befallen upon my bust, this creation…. With the same hue as Serengeti dust.  Pugnacious they are, protruding mounds of nourishment.  Silicone?  Blasphemous.  Mother Nature gave me these.

My hips, stability agents of my womb…. My fertile valley, the gateway and portal of tomorrow’s Nefertiti and Seti.  Age is no restriction.  Four decades had passed when my paternal grandmother continued her legacy.  Only hearing the whispers of Ashanti, Ala and Bast to guide her womb.  

No wonder our blackness is a threat.  

That much fertility is infinite power.  

Magical hair, skin, lips, bust, hips, womb… descendants that you couldn’t annihilate, eliminate, exterminate from this earth.

Descendants of the original people, daughters and sons of the ultimate Mother.

Goddesses and Kings who created your mathematics, military strategies, artistic standards and religion.

Of course our blackness is a concern.

That much knowledge is definite power.

I am black….

I am African-American….

I am country….

I am Creole…

I am Caribbean…

Black is African.

Black is African-American.

Black is Latin.

Black is West Indian.

Black is Caribbean.

Black is Creole.

Black is Aboriginal.

Black is British.

Black is French.

Black is Spanish.

Black is Black.

Black is Resilient.  Black is Resistant.

Black is Stubborn.  Black is Strong-Willed.

Black is Forceful.  Black is Sovereign.

Black is Gifted.  Black is Educated.

Black is Limitless.  You cannot destroy us.

No wonder you are afraid.

Despite your hate, we love.

Despite your anger, we smile.

Despite your persecution, we persevere.

Despite your denial, we progress.

Despite your barriers, we build.

Despite your religion, we worship.

Despite your distrust, we believe.

My blackness…..a blessing, a gift for me.

My blackness…..a threat to mine enemy.

My blackness… honor bestowed by God.

My blackness… heirloom of Mother Africa.

My blackness…..a beauty to a friend.

My blackness…..a treasure to my family.

My blackness… understanding to God’s children.

My blackness… aphrodisiac to my lover.

Blackness. Bold. Loud. Incredible. Relentless. Powerful.  Magical.



My Black Magic has been brewing for years and it has been cultivated by my relationships with many influential people, including my dear friend EJ to whom I’ve dedicated each post since his untimely passing.  His friendship made me proud, it made me strong, it made me grateful.  His guidance often came to me through tough times.  Times when others didn’t understand me and sought to tear me down, he understood me and urged me to only be me, once he said to me “Ashley fuck these people who talk shit about you, they think they know you, but they only know of you.  They don’t know you like the people who care for you.” That piece of advice is something that I will treasure always, it gave me the courage to shun other’s negativity.  Rest in Love brother.