destiny set me up lovely and it’s humbling but, respectfully, my moms is a beast. she’s dipped in honey from her faith to her feet & she will kill for her babies easy. straight gospel she knows her belly is sweet home to legacies so she plants her body’s fruit firmly. straight beauty - you can look at me and see the power of pennies because money never came easy my ma spent wisely to make crumbs into a slice. more than money, she spent her life in sacrifice to make sure that before i speak you respect me, simply from watching me i carry my body like the statue of liberty, when she was carved a shapely shade mahogany. mommy your words are like pearls, paying out the best in me. teaching me a woman can carry the family tree with nothing more than dignity. my appreciation is more than being daughter of an original solider. it is more than being re-born when you drop wisdom. it is knowing when the time comes i’ll be a woman, a strong one, and that you had strong vision to face the situation, keeping your head high to make them look you in the eyes. i’m proud of your pride. i want to be a woman just like my mama and see light from cracks in the wall. yes, women are strong - diamonds, none common, each in her own dimensions made in your image, i glisten
THIS LOVE IS ACAPPELLA, LIKE FALLEN GOSPEL
THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS, IS NOTHING ELSE MATTERS
I’m crawling
Wall 2 Wall
Paint is chipping from the impact of my body
The police?, please, needs to see me bloody
They telling me
That’s proof – I can’t keep him off me
That, That is proof – I can’t keep him off me
But I be
Rare meat
– that, seasoned breed. descendant of women
+ men who spent my lifetime intent – 2 teach me
Ends are what I meet
Not what a man brings 2 me
That's
How
I
Knew
I
Had
2
Get
Him
Off
Me
I was afraid to speak.
I justified my lack of backbone by telling myself I was humble. My classmates were having babies, dropping out of school or settling into a modest life. I have always had a quiet nature, and this coupled with constant studying and a book fetish, outcasted me as thinking 'I was better than everyone else.' I was afraid to speak because I wanted to belong.
The Point: Self actualizing is not bragging. I used to think it was. I am not sure why I thought this. Perhaps, a bit of it is that I earned a full scholarship to my undergraduate degree.
My skin color and skill in writing got me this. Only minority students with above-average writing ability are eligible for the course. I like to think my hard work got me the scholarship. It got me The Lecture, why not this, too. Many times, adults have told me that I am representing all people of color. This is The Lecture. This was a burden to me – all that responsibility. Adults, of various ethnicity, told me, I – which meant we – had the potential to be anything, everything. Therefore, some said, there was no doubt I would take the scholarship.
Translation: Not every option is an option, take the scholarship - and make it work. My earning the scholarship represented the strength of mind and potential in people of color. I would take the scholarship because its creation represented society’s dedication toward diversity. It is not an everyday opportunity. My declining the scholarship would not happen, comfortable or not.
My sitting, scared to speak above the whisper in my head, made me see that my skin color is a crutch. Yet, it is priceless. I am much more than a shade of brown. It has been the reason so much is expected of me, expectation I both hated and loved. No longer one I will be silenced over.
I first had to lose my 'self' to realize the 'burden' of my skin color is truly a challenge, which is best dictated - not by others, but by my talent and aspiration.
it started with a night of passion
labor was overcome way back. everything else is rite of passage, elevations of re-birth. so, when I say it started with a night of passion, it was the sequel, more of a revue. maxwell slid, tenderly from the case + placed as softly as he sings into an old, towering stereo. lights out. candles full blown. no mattress, just cushion, on cushion – a mountain of comfort. we embedded our bodies. into each other, we relaid full grown seeds, trekked the tunnel of life, backwards, re-experiencing the simultaneous joy + pain of coming into life. it was intense. it was pure, raw, intentional, it was original
it was carved into me, somewhere. I can’t place it. still, it is there. like jello silly enough 2 rumba with jerked chicken, statuesque in a stream of motion. i can’t place it. still, it is there. that night, we planted the fruit + left our journey defined. embrya. the cd sprinted around us. no. around the room. here + there an eye – my eye, his eye – spread long enough 2 remember our surroundings, + there they were. material beings floating on embrya. we heard many songs. the cd was on repeat. embrya looped all by itself. this song kept rotation in time with my body, riding high + winding down. max, i, he, we were – well, reborn that night. created a new
then, my father found it necessary 4 a lesson
my father, he, played that song the tuesday – noted in the al’ta world as the day of passion – we took a ride. that day embrya graduated from hidden treasure 2 prelude, ovation style. we revisited our journey. my father kept playing the song. my lesson was not achieved – so he lectured on, in his deliberate way. the song plagued radio waves early evening, late afternoon. this man left. my father stayed, but i didn't notice. my shine had gone. maxwell kept playing. why, father, must U persist. haven’t i learned enough
he secured regular rotation 2 first thing - my time. exactly 3 weeks - 21 days - i was set in my way. reading the bible at twilight. reading 'how 2 get 2 heaven' first thing. vowing 2 start each day with a smile, postive thoughts, recognition + acknowledgment of blessings. he played embrya. i listened. i cried. his voice, my father's, in chorus over the thick audio combustion. he said hear me
and i did, finally. he used maxwell as a divine instrument. explaining 2 his precious daughter that i needed our journey - that journey. 2 realize how + why my shine is never lost
No comments:
Post a Comment