Poetry saves my life, it saves my sanity
In my youth, I used to write every single day. It’s not so easy anymore. The world has hit me hard. It continues to hit me. It’s impossible for me not to feel the world’s pain, not just mine, that of everyone who shares a bond with me, and that means everyone who bleeds. I am a human being. Here are a few pieces of my human heart.
My Brother (2010)
There’s no solace for my young brothers.
No confidant, no angel, no friend.
My brothers are dying again.
No destiny, no future, no kin.
They carry the world as they walk by.
Guns aimed at their heads. They don’t know why.
They’re owed so much debt. It’s never paid.
It’s postponed and forgotten until the next brother’s soul is laid.
I feel their pain.
Their blood beats down on my window like acid rain.
One drop, two drops, three drops, while another brother is slain.
Is there no one coming to save the day?
How many more of my brothers can we lose this way?
Are there any of their souls left to take?
They die, no one pays.
Our screams, they eventually fade.
As my brothers are left to toil another day.
Carrying on in a world that never forgot how to hate.
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Speeches (2009)
I wrote a magnificent speech today, but nobody heard it.
Not one person heard it.
After all, I’m no JFK.
I’m not MLK.
I’m not Mandela, Malcolm, Obama, or any of those great orators.
I’m just black.
A little black girl who has had very little of significance to say.
But there was that one day.
The words came and came.
The magnificence poured like rain.
What a glorious day!
But no one was present to hear what I had say.
I was alone in every way.
Alone in the worst of ways.
Nevertheless, I remember that speech I told.
I remember every single word.
One of these days, it will be heard.
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Am I not enough black? (2009)
Check the soles of my feet.
Check the palms of my hands
And the nape of my neck before you make that attack
If you say to me, I’m not enough black, I must react:
Intellect is black.
Poise is black.
Elegance is black.
Proper English is black.
And wearing one’s pants snug upon one’s waste where they were intended to sit is indeed black.
Higher education is black.
Gainful employment is black.
The lack of a criminal record is black.
Marriage is black.
Chastity is black.
Success is black.
Non-violence is black.
Our first lady and her husband are black.
The middle class is black.
And taking one’s rightful place among the world’s elite is indeed black.
So for you who cannot higher strive, and for you who know not the price of your crown.
For you who question my black…
I say… you do not deserve to be black.
So please, give me my black back!