Long Lost Writings aka A Forgotten Piece of Me

So my Mom ( the family historian) just emailed me these poems that frankly, Id forgotten that I wrote. It really took me back though...to a sort of forgotten...or maybe purposely neglected painful part of my life. And I wasn't going to share them. But my good friend Tee urged me to, saying the words may touch someone else. So, with no further ado....I present...a piece of my inner thoughts. Im posting from my phone, so please forgive the posting errors. There are 4 poems..hopefully, this will break between them.


Tonight I lay in my bed listening.. Listening to the sounds of a woman. She screams, this woman. Somebody’s mother, sister, daughter, lover. I listen as she screams. Screams for all of the things that were..but will never be again.

She remembers.

Remembers, perhaps, the first time she touched the little brown face and looked into his eyes. She remembers those first tiny steps, the first cry of “Mama” ..she remembers the baby. She remembers the tears on the morning he began school, and the laughter as he returned home.

Maybe she cries for the times of pain –cries for the bruises, skinned knees, maybe even broken bones. All of which will heal in time.

She cries for the boy.

Maybe she cries for the pains that will not heal. For the time that her child, who has been loved and adored from birth, came home and asked, “Mama, what is a nigger”

She cries for the time that his heart has been broken. He is becoming a man.

She cries for the anger and frustration he feels. And then she cries again.

She cries for the simple irony of it all. That someone who came out of an act so beautiful, so tender and loving, could be taken away in an act so ugly, so violent and hateful!

He will never hear the cries. He was someone’s father, brother, son and lover. He can never be again.

She cries for she knows this. He has been taken away. Never again to be held, kissed, caressed.

Tonight I lay in my bed listening to the cries of a woman. It is me, and I cry for all of the mothers.




JUST BECAUSE

Why do things happen the way they do

Just because…. I’ve learned many things, some easy, some hard. I’ve come close to quitting, but I’ve come too far. I have too much to work for, too much to gain. I’ve learned that people will hate you, hurt you, love you, want you, need you, but beat you. This comes for many reasons. But mostly, “just because.”

Just because: I am black. Just because: I am a woman Just because: I am poor Just because: I am strong. Just because: I am only who I am and cannot be anyone else.

If you think about it, anything that has happened to me is because of all of these things.

I am a strong black woman. For this reason I have been hated, loved, hurt, adored, cherished, beaten, caressed, brought down, and held high above others in pride.

I can’t give up. Because the same things people hate me for, I LOVE me for.



TO MY DAUGHTER

This is to you. My beautiful queen. I’m writing to tell you of all of my dreams. I have so many, I want them for you. For you to achieve them, to yourself be true. Never be less than you know you can be. Let your spirit stay strong. Let your mind stay free. Never let any one put down your goals. For once they can do that, they own your soul. Be careful to care, to love, to trust. But follow your heart. To find love, you must. In order to learn love, you must learn pain. It seems like the only way you can gain. By pain, I mean heartache, not pain in your bones. If a man hits you once, please leave him alone. Love should make you happy, calm and at ease. Not shameful, unhappy, or jumping to please. You’ll know when you have the love that you seek. Your heartbeat grows faster, your knees will go weak. I want so much more, my wonderful child. For you, I want everything. For you to be proud. Be proud of yourself, of your mind, of your power. You’re strong as a bull, as beautiful as a flower.



Who Am I ?

Who am I? You asked me that today. I told you what I thought you’d like to hear. I gave the easy answers…. Who am I? Well..

I’m Sara’s daughter, I'm Bee and Steph's lil sister.  With the BIG lil brothers, haha.  I said I’m divorced.  A single mom of 3 I used to be married to _____ I started to speak again; but you stopped me, “No…who are YOU?”

So, I searched a little deeper “Who am I?” Hmmm…well… I’m that chick from around the way.  You know…that redbone who lives up at #687. The one with them bad ass little boys…and the son who draws so well,  I'm the one whose daughter was killed.  Yeah...that was my daughter...Thanks.  I’m that chick that’s always cookin’ ; anytime you visit, there’s always something on the stove. I’m that chick that’s always reading. Trying to find the next thing to learn If pain in our lives teaches us…by now, I should be a scholar. I’ve seen sooo damn much. I’m that chick that all your boys talk about, “Damn..you got a good woman.” But you still treat me like some IG Thot.. Running in and out, coming as you please.

But as soon as I turn my back to leave…here YOU GO...fallin on your knees. I’m that chick you hear on the mic..singing loud and strong, Longing for the times when I can be heard as clearly …OFF stage I’m that chick …who still fights to go forward. Even when life seems to keep Pushing me back. Who tries to “KEEP HOPE ALIVE” when all along, my heart and hope has died.

So, when you ask me, “Who am I?” I’m that chick.. I’m that chick.. I’m THAT chick.. Stressin’, fightin’, lovin’, laughing, struggling, singing, sexin’, feelin’, growing, living, maintaining and screaming’

All of these words describe me. I can’t tell you who “I” am Every day I am someone new..so let me ask..”Who are YOU?