Showing posts with label April National Poetry Month. Show all posts
Showing posts with label April National Poetry Month. Show all posts

Sunday, April 19, 2009

my flow can part a sea

I am simply tired.
I am tired of living like this.
I am tired of getting my gut ripped out from under me.
I feel all alone in this house.

I am on the edge of just falling.
Falling into something I'm not ready for.
I am not ready to go.

But sometimes you just have to think
that something has to be on the otherside.
Freedom, a chance to breathe

because surrounded in these dry wall walls are cutting off my air supply.
and i feel something fatal coming on.

I drift, drift, drift, drift, drift...
--Pea

Friday, April 10, 2009

Being Black in the Work Place


They take my kindness for weakness.
They take my silence for speechless.
They consider my uniqueness strange.
They call my language slang.
They see my confidence as conceit.
They see my mistakes as defeat.
They consider my success accidental.
They minimize my intelligence to "potential".
My questions mean "I'm unaware".
My advancement is somehow unfair.
Any praise is preferential treatment.
To voice concern is discontentment.
If I stand up for myself, I'm too defensive.
If I don't trust them, I'm too apprehensive.
I'm defiant ! if I separate.
I'm fake if I assimilate.
Yet, constantly I am faced with work place hate.
My character is constantly under attack.
Pride for my race makes me, "TOO BLACK". Yet, I can only be me. And, who am I you ask?

I am that Strong Black Person...

Who stands on the backs of my ancestor's achievements, with anerect spine pointing to the stars with pride, dignity and respectwhich lets the work place in America know, that I not only possessthe ability to play by the rules, but I can make them as well!
Black History 365

~ Arthur Unknown ~

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Only 17

LIFE WAS HARD
THEIR WERE UPS AND THEIR WERE DOWNS
WHAT CHANGED
DEATH
ONLY 17
HE WAS BORN
HE WAS SAVED MONTHS BEFORE
THE END
WHAT CHANGED
DEATH
ONLY 17
HE WAS GIVEN A CHOICE AT THE END
HE CHOSE THE BULLET
OVER GIVING UP HIS MONEY
WHAT CHANGED
DEATH
ONLY 17
HE SACRIFICED HIMSELF
HE WAS SAVED
WHAT CHANGED
LOVE
ONLY 17



----PRES 3/27/1994 Sunday 4:00PM

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

A Strong Black Woman

WHAT IF I AM A BLACK WOMAN?
IS IT A DISEASE?

WELL, IF IT IS,I SURE HOPE IT'S CATCHING
BECAUSE THEY NEED TO POUR IT INTO A BOTTLE,
LABEL IT, AND SPRINKLE IT
ALL OVER THE PEOPLE~ MEN AND WOMEN~WHO
EVER LOVED OR CRIED, WORKED OR DIED
FOR ANY ONE OF US.
SO...WHAT IF I AM A BLACK WOMAN?
IS IT A CRIME? ARREST ME! BECAUSE I'M STRONG, BUT I'M GENTLE.
I'M SMART,BUT I'M LEARNING, I'M LOVING, BUT I'M HATEFUL.
AND I LIKE TO WORK BECAUSE I LIKE TO EAT AND FEED AND CLOTHE
AND HOUSE ME, MINE, AND YOURS AND EVERYBODYS,
LIKE I'VE BEEN DOING FOR THE PAST
300 YEARS.

WHAT IF I AM A BLACK WOMAN?
IS IT INSANE? COMMITT ME!
BECAUSE I WANT THE HAPPINESS,
NOT TEARS; TRUTHS, NOT
LIES; PLEASURE NOT PAIN;
SUNSHINE, NOT RAIN;
A MAN, NOT A CHILD!

WHAT IF I AM A BLACK WOMAN?
IS IT A SIN? PRAY FOR ME! AND PRAY FOR YOU TOO, IF YOU DON'T LIKE WOMEN OF COLOR BECAUSE WE ARE... MIDNIGHT BLACK, CHESTNUT BROWN, HONEY BRONZED, CHOCOLATE COVERED, COCOA DIPPED, BIGGED LIPPED, BIG HIPPED, BIG BREASTED, AND BEAUTIFUL ALL AT THE SAME TIME! SO...WHAT IF I AM A BLACK WOMAN?
DOES IT BOTHER YOU THAT MUCH BECAUSE
I WANT A MAN WHO WANTS ME...LOVES ME AND TRUSTS ME, AND RESPECTS ME
AND GIVES ME EVERYTHING BECAUSE I
GIVE HIM EVERYTHING BACK, PLUS!

WHAT IF I AM A BLACK WOMAN?
I'VE GOT RIGHTS, SAME AS YOU!
I HAVE WORKED FOR THEM, DIED FOR THEM, LIED FOR THEM, PLAYED AND LAID
FOR THEM, ON EVERY PLANTATION FROM ALABAMA TO BOSTON AND BACK!

WHAT IF I AM A BLACK WOMAN?
I LOVE ME, AND I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME TOO, BUT I AM, AS I'VE ALWAYS
BEEN, NEAR YOU, CLOSE TO YOU, BESIDE YOU, STRONG, GIVING, LOVING,

FOR OVER 300 YEARS,
YOUR BLACK WOMAN... LOVE ME!

-Author Unknown

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

The Goddess' Chant


I am all women, I am every woman.
Wherever women are suffering,
I am there.
Wherever woman are struggling,
I am there.
Wherever woman are fighting for their liberation,
I am there.

I am at the bedside of the woman giving birth,
screaming in labor;
I am with the women selling their bodies
in third world countries
so that her children may eat;
I am with the woman selling her
body in the streets of American cities
to feed the habit she acquired
from her boyfriend.

I am with the woman who never sees
the light outside her kitchen;
I am with the woman who never sees
the light outside her factory;
I am with the woman whose fingers
are still from endless typing and
whose legs ache from the high heels
she must wear to please her boss.

I am with the woman bleeding to death
on the kitchen table
of a quack abortionist;
I am with the woman answering
endless questions of
the inquisitive caseworkers;
and I am with the caseworkers,
whose dreams of making a new
social order have long been smothered
in the endless bureaucracy,
the endless forms, the racism of their superiors.

I am with the beauty queen
painting her face and spraying
her hair with poison;
I am with the black prostitute
straightening her hair
and lightening her skin;
I am with the young child
for whom an apron is the only thing
she has been taught to dream of;
I am at the hospital where a
beaten child is being treated for wounds
caused by a mother driven
by desperation past sanity,
past compassion;
I am with the fourty-five-year-old file clerk,
raped and strangled in her one-room walkup.

I am with all women; I am all women,
and our struggle grows

I am with the welfare mothers
who will not be turned away
by the indifferent legislators;
I am with the airline stewardesses
fighting to retain their jobs
after they reach thirty
and their market value has decreased;
I am with the sistah hexing Wall Street
and the bridal fairs and the beauty contests;
I am with women struggling everywhere.

And where there are women too beaten down to fight,

I will be there;
and we will take strength together.
Everywhere: for we will have a new world,
a just world, a world without
oppression and degradation.

The Goddess' Chant from Everywoman
Past, Present, and Future


In honor of April, National Poetry Month.
Excerpt from the play: THE LAST OF THE RED HOT MAMMAS, OR, THE LIBERATION OF WOMEN AS PERFORMED BY THE INMATES OF THE WORLD (1969) This play was performed at the founding convention of the Chicago Women's Liberation Union. A play performed by an entire audience, and by Marylee A., Ellen A., Amy C., Pat M. Sherry Jenkins, Amy Kesselman, Naomi Weisstein (1969)