Trinti Mei – May 30th 1969 A Black Revolt


dutch hell bound demons
by flames
strangulated by
the wick
of white hyper plunder
shacks upon shacks
from Thorenquest, Cher Asil
to Fuik and Wespin
cow kakabu walls
spoke disgust
for centuries

Guene gutter struggles
birthed salted wings
dont look back now
Kristof mountain exodus energy

buried beneath an avalanche of ashes
Villa park fontein, Blue Bay
the ivory tower of the political vampires
Shell, catholic clergy army and dutch government
the unholy trinity

the elite villainous
the MCB bank a US-NL financial fuckness jewish sefardim franchise

Bozal thruth spewing spiritual justice from chinese corner stores
shaking asses on Tambu conquering goat skins playlist
In all of us there’s a freedom flame burning
undisciplining the fear to fuck all of you abusers the fuck up
you white and rich
white is rich by theft
and social bloodshed

white plantation pillage
electoral anxiety and
kingdom laws ordained it
dead words form colonial killing squads
dont u ever believe these fraud judicial codes
we can eat Funchi with Funchi and tamarind on the side
while silently cry with grace and joyfully as
we seen the smoke rising from the holy houses
the 4 star hotels, the Black free labor cages
the temples of neoliberal terrorism
did u smell the capitalist settler’s fear for losing it all

mass killing of the mind
school suffocating in the heat
laptops dont come cheap in the plantocracy

renovating buildings giving people jobs is not the equivalence of securing Black well being
dutch economic fortune is a power of poison
monkey island money curse be generational
Isaiah 10-6 vibes
litlle momma cries to Madame Abakua
they better obey Las Reglas de Curaçao

Inside a firefly prayer circle
Self-mastery of the Ancestral New wave
Mandinga mind state chewing on the dutch white saints’ skeletons
ruins of rebellion wear them like honorable amulets

smiling faces, vexation and fury, dashikis and Castro and Che hats.

Jewelry store round their necks, fridge on their backs,
clothes, shoes, brand new dresses, volkwagens turned upside down
crown princess portrait torn that day when anything white was dead wrong

And it still is
and it still is
and it still is
and it still is
and it still is
and it still is
and it still is
and it still is
and it still is



dutch degenerables

white worries about coral riffs
not black women & men locked up
that can’t feed their kids.

animal & environmental activisms,
don’t care about the violations of
rights of Caribbean children

To them: Black cadavers behind bars
To us: dutch white politics & human whites NGOs
capsized carcasses in The Hague

Unable to possess the humanity to see we people
from the Caribbean as human worthy beings

The colossal economic vain
since 1634 has always been
the illicit shit, contraband,
Black karni commerce
clandestine money grids

The plantation-keeper
tied up,
pig tail dangling
from his bloodstained
A flock of raton djanochi
flew around the
cotton tree.

decoloniggerisms disputes
halo’d hunger pains
all we want is
kala and bonchi pretu,
kalalu balchi
for breakfast
hug grandma’s herb garden
with cracked lips

manumitting white elites
catapulting a silence
of colonial cacophony
soft racism skeletons,
anti-blackness bones pulverized
chalk powder outlining
the future soulit

here comes
the wondrous world of
dutch whiteness
during the
Caribbean colonies

deployment financial vulture troops
budget cuts, budget cuts,
butcher cuts, butcher cuts
Apartheid schools &
cheap labor camps

Go and let Egbert do the math,
Netherlands never was a project of ethics

Bitter Sundays
hollow Black bellies
be grimey,
5 years from now
she still rides the bus

your cuffed parliament
is a fucking
dutch slavery museum already

Mai Nana’s eyes glowing
pridefully proving
she can kill
white man-made poverty
with red unions,
a Papaya tree &
fresh picked Yerb’i Hole leaves

The death of Amador Nita & $500 million annual reparations fund

nita publiko

Right after the smoke and ashes cleared from the Black labor revolt in 1969 Amador Nita one of the main union leaders of Trint’i mei became minister of social affairs. During his first visit in the Netherlands he spoke to queen Juliana and demanded from her and the government $500 million, a yearly reparations fund as financial exodus from the dutch demolishment of enslavement and colonialism.

While boarding a flight in Amsterdam a bomb threat delayed his return to Curacao. A few weeks later after coming back from his revolutionary quest he allegedly dies from an acute nerve disease.

Amador Nita August 17 – 1921 — June 17 – 1970



Crush dutch rule –

ingredients: decolonized Black people, high fearlesness syrup, spiritual roots acid, natural flavored healing herbs, Caquetieu cave water

Curacao brewed and bottled

sip it and flip it

The Unslaveables

Bazjan this ain’t gonna work
No Sir.
Anti-colonialism movements hopeless
Lawyers, media, radio jokers
Union and politics hoaxters.

Creole capitalism flourishing
Cocaine wars drizzling
Education eugenics
Classrooms void of Black wisdom
Charity tzars donate clothes, bags and sneakers to schoolkids because their intentions never were to eliminate poverty systems.

A peace march strolls by.
A Wulfsen & Wulfsen junkie gets high.

Murder trial plots and Dutch white judges. Hung up by Dutch can’t do nothing wrong-isms crutches.

Prohibitions to revisit the past.
Premonitions that keep killing ourselves. Daddy loosened his belt, not to hit the kid but to initiate him to his perverted hell.

Vitos and bombas
Masters versus escapism visionaries
The exodus of spiritual frailness inside chukulati bodies.

Celebrating 380yrs of enslavement
Buying powers quarantined
Pensioners electorally groomed their predicaments.
Drug mules and airport drug duels.
Chikungunya journalism got us in a bloodsucking sleeperhold.
Lottery pharaohs won’t let my people go.
A mighty race can’t arise with shut eyes.
A man kills his wife and the outrage is unheard, invisible.
The future is 1795 where we unslaved ourselves from the miserable.

Each day we honor
Everyday we conquer the fear to be free.