Collision

Blunt beep of a monitor,
Calling out because you’re not
Connected,
Needing you near,
Needing you here,
Testing,
Testing,
Testing your
Vital signs,
Signing for life,
Making sure you are
Here,
I wait for you,
And you enter,
Bruised and broken,
Like you’ve just come from a fight,
I smile thinking of the joke you’d make,
About “you should see the other guy,”
“Who are you?” You ask me,
“Who?”
You smile,
Your humor has not been injured,
It is your coping mechanism,
To handle the shock, the disappointment,
The fear, the anger
Over what a collision means
For you,
For all of us,
Your wounded body needs delicate, precise, firm attention,
To bandage trauma more than skin deep,
To mend your pride,
To salve your independence,
This is not an easy fix,
This is a 10000 piece jigsaw,
With pieces missing,
Worn edges to mislead,
This takes trust, takes time, takes patience,
Perseverance,
Takes love,
Love,
And more of it still.

Kaleidoscope

I am running,
But I’m losing breath,
No time to check the time,
Time is always running
Parallel to my destination,
I’m always late at the station,
I pump harder
Fear I might die,
Sprout wings,
And see me, watch me
fly.
I’ve never been up here;
Up high,
Never seen the masses from such a distance,
To see they gather
Following my vision,
As we all see the dream,
Through different eyes
The gaze,
Beautiful the colors as they shift,
Align, and fluidly create,
Our dreams put to fruition,
Are gaining speed,
As they turn into items, feats,
That were once loose imaginings,
This is our kaleidoscope
Of a wise black spirit,
That lovingly absorbs all the colors

Present Memory

She thought of us
always,
Out of sight,
never out of mind,
I received from her,
belated Christmas presents
today,
She passed in September,
Ametrine pendant,
And silver bangle,
Elegant,
Priceless,
Timeless,
Like her memory,
Her love
That lives on in and of me,
Though
Out of sight she may be,
She is everywhere in present memory.

Black Joy

I need more joy,
Inside my world,
My spirit in need of uplift, of sustenance,
So many tales of those dark skinned like me,
Being taken for granted,
lives taken,
so many brothers, sisters
in need of reminder
that black is beautiful,
and also of joy,
deserving.

Sweet Land of Liberty

My country tis of thee
Sweet land of liberty
Of hate I sing,
Of fascism and violence,
White supremacy born,
This is what you’ve always shown,
Only victims see,
Your ideals are ideas,
your system, systemic
racism,
oh sweet land
my criticizicism biting
my love enduring
for what you have yet to be,
for what I believe remains possible,
sweet land of liberty

Stacey Abrams

I am pigmented,
My color sets me apart, casts me out,
Of inclusion to this monolith of democracy,
Where I must work for a right that is supposedly given,
I cast my ballot,
And feel the power in the pen
In the slide as it is counted,
And the anxiety over whether it’s really included,
tallied.

My selection wins,
And still opposition demands more,
A recount, a means, a way,
Of disqualifying me and the like-minded voters,
We must barter for peace as our representatives confirm
The process is
Just,
Just one more ballot,
One more hanging chad,
One more missed mark to prove something is amiss,

But a black man won the seat in Georgia,
Damn now she’s colored blue,
Just,
Just one more recount,
One more way to trick the eye,
That won’t stop watching,
That has been trained not to trust,
From centuries of color-coded democratic process,
Featuring parlor tricks of poll taxes,
Id laws,
Limited sites to do your civic duty,
Threats of,
And Death,
Ancestors knew all of it,
So show me a true patriot,
She doesn’t need horns nor face paint,
To show her warrior pose.