Tag Archives: black man

The Conversation 

Police brutality and the war on black men forces poetry out of my soul. It also forces hard conversations with the people we love.

I had to have

the conversation

with the man I love
I told him to just

Lay

Just lay on the ground

When they come around
As I spoke I felt that rope

Tied around my throat
And it hurt.
I told him to do whatever

they say

I told him to pray

While he lay

As I choked

on tears and pride
Two black men murdered 2 nights in a row in July

There’s no other option

The man I love
Has

Got

To

Survive
I had to have

the conversation
I felt him lose his patience

as fear consumed me

And there was nothing he could do about it
I felt him lose his power

While murderous thoughts devoured

my heart and my soul and my bones
Engulfed in flames

Set ablaze by the videos

On my social media page
I had to have

the conversation
“I’m gonna be alright” he said

And he held me tight

While I kissed his forehead
Then we said goodnight.
Each minute that passed while he drove home felt more like an hour
I lost my patience.
At least we had the conversation
But then I thought about

His dark skin

His boldness

His unyielding power

His smart mouth

His charisma

And his confidence
Yall know how a man is

He

Has

Got

To

Survive
There’s no other option.

 

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For the Ladies: “Her Brown Body”

woman looking in mirror EDIT
 by Kiara Lee
Her brown body – rich in history and in melanin, endowed with girth
Surrounded by infatuation and contemplation, yet still, devoid of worth
Fingers point at her in the streets, eyes stare at her with thoughts under sheets,
A soul so tender, a soul so sweet, reduced to nothing…nothing more than a piece of meat.
Her Brown Body
But she likes it, it’s the only attention she really gets and attention is really her only wish
All eyes are on her, this — this is only as good as it’s ever gonna get
She does everything under the sun thinking, she’s thinking that she’ll find the one and she’s
Devaluing herself and her plan is to sell her body and her soul to a man
Her Brown Body
Society teaches her everything she should know
How to treat him like a king, how to let him treat her like a hoe
Her brown body accepts it because…her brown body feels neglected
If she’s not treated this way, because somewhere along the line, she forgot what respect is…
 Her Brown Body
Oh how dignified she should be and how tall she should stand
Because back in the day, her brown body was an exhibit, just look at Sarah Baartman
A South African slave, her body parts were put on display, European men made her dance butt naked ball and chain and in a cage
The twerking and the clapping of today ain’t nothin’ new they say…it was FORCED on her brown body back in those days…
 Well today, her brown body is just the same
Playing HERSELF cheap this time, all pain, no gain
A queen caged and ashamed, too afraid to let her true royalty reign
Exploited and displayed, a new age slave chained to an age old game
Her Brown Body
Her Brown Body — all hurt and no worth
A list of insecurities as long as her weave, her love for self as short as her skirt
Beautiful brown skin and a beautiful spirit within — things to adore
or things to deplore, an all-out war, where only a MAN can even out the score.