Monthly Archives: December 2011

… put in motion

 

… historically, the North has always been perceived as more conscious and accepting of African Americans as a people. Although the ills of racism plagued the nation as a whole, the main issues with inequality were more prominent in the South. For ten-plus years after the end of the Civil War, Reconstruction was in order to establish and ‘protect’ the rights of newly freed slaves and the entire Black population, but there were loopholes—Black Codes and Jim Crow Laws.

The South’s racial caste system was predicated on, amongst other things, preventing interracial relationships; protecting white women from black men.  It was clear that there was to be no fraternization. In 1954, segregation in public schools was ended by the decision in Brown versus Board of Education.  An overall victory for the race, desegregation proved to be a curse for certain individuals.

Emmett Till, a Chicago native, fell victim to the [lack of] advancement of society …

 

The Catalyst

 

14 and foreign,

of the same country

but a stranger to this land’s unspoken laws

back home, different colors mixed

dared to touch

to evolve

but as you ride the current south

the Mississippi washes away time and social progression

even though the people look the same

humanity is otherworldly in the Delta

 

the boy whistles

she cries wolf

just wait Till her husband comes home

You Better Run, Nigger!

 

an eye for an eye

“how much for a glance, Ma’am?”

 

he is left wading in the river’s waters

beaten and shot for good measure

weighed down by a Cotton Gin Fan

of slavery’s past

 

a Northerner

spoiled by desegregation

disillusioned by a subtle taste of equality

he was mailed home, swollen in a box

laid to rest

open-faced for the world to see

a sacrificial lamb, a martyr

the beginning of a grander movement

 

 

 


… embrace it

 

… discovery of self is a lifelong process—ever-evolving and always in motion—but actually exposing your true self is another matter. It takes courage for people to be themselves; a degree of defiance to really be an individual. It’s a scary thing to be human. We have to accept what others would view as imperfections and flaws and own them; believe they are beautiful and worth being shared.

Sometimes we’ll dive into the depths of personal expression head first but in most cases we’ll step to the edge, be intrigued by how the jump may feel, and still need a little push. It takes a special person to want to be different and to be it shamelessly. But at the end of the day, there has to be an ‘Aha/Fuck It’ moment—vulnerability has to win …

 

(En)Courage

 

a medley of tobacco

pussy

and tequila

dance on the stage of her tongue

a rhythmic threesome

leaping from one taste bud to another

frogs on lily pads

 

her breath smells of exploration

freedom

 

for years

she’s dreamt of what it would be like

wondered how she could

miss something she’s never had

need something she’s always lived without

want something she couldn’t define

 

under-aged and over-proofed

they met by chance

uncertainty and liquor introduced them

but the gravity of their loneliness

created the first kiss

 

sparks of released inhibitions flew

it was

the genesis of her true being

 

 

** I could speak at length about the subject of sexuality and its many correlated topics but I won’t. I will, however, acknowledge this – everyone has and is entitled to their own understanding/belief of how it all works, accepting what they will and please.

… the world is still young …

 

 


… vanity fare

… some pieces just resonate on their own …

 

 

Vanity Fare

 

Her very insides tear

As he invites himself into a place

Not even she knew existed

Into the dark cavity of her soul

Where hate has been seeded

And hope won’t stand a chance

He penetrates and darkness spreads

Overtaking her world and mocking the fight in her

Garments rip

Exposing the pure flesh of innocence

He tastes her scent

From the cup of her collarbone

And his saliva burns as it evaporates

The look in his eyes

Damages the place in her heart

That would ever allow her trust another man

And love,

It will no longer live here

With each thrust

He steals a piece of her

The dignity

The confidence

The strength

Pieces of self she struggles not to feign

Struggles to make truth of

Underneath the cold steel bones

Crushing her spirits

He diminishes her

To an icy river of tears

But she fights

As flesh mutes cries

Until there is no more room for him

Under her fingernails

Until there is no more room for him

Inside of her

And everything goes numb

 

She never imagined the world would go silent

The second she screamed her loudest

 

He probed her enough to impress upon her

That ugly things happen to deserving people

And with that

The notion of self-worth escaped her

Stripping her of the ability to see her own beauty

Birthmark and quirkiness alike

Now she spends her nights

Cowering before the vanity mirror

Because when she shuts her eyes long enough

His face appears

And sometimes

In her dreams

She watches him

As he invades her being

Limp arms still pinned above her head

She searches for truth within the looking glass

For a bit of self still worth loving

And for the hope she knew of and used to believe in

When she was still the beautiful little girl

That died in that stranger’s arms years ago

Before the world became Dark