Running

Running from myself

Not a place

But a work that must be done

Forsaking

Forsaking to see the value

In the battle once the war is won

I climb aboard a boat waiting to sink

With the lost

Knowing they will pay the cost

For my

Running

I see their storms

I see their tossing with every whim

I toss with them as if I'm in

The same place

But I'm not

And the persistence of their storm

Is my doing

Because I'm

running

So the storm won't cease

Until Im in the belly of the beast

The darkness

Alone

With the one who heals

And reveals

And promises to rebuild

My purpose

I must journey to the depths

And arising on the third day

Just to trust and obey

Caz I might as well do what you say

Or the storm won't cease

There is a people waiting

They are praying

They have been promised hope

I must do the work

I must grow

I must swallow pride

I must go

I must obey

I must

I must

I will

I see

I promise to see

The hearts that break

With no ability to

Find the balm

That heals

I see

I promise to see

Those who

Wonder and wonder

Whose shelter to hide under

In the time of the storm

I see

I promise to see

Those who sit in the dark

Just awaiting a spark

From my light

That is now under a bushel

I see

I promise see them

I will stretch out my hand

With your strength I can

Pull them from their pits

That they have fallen into

On pursuit to find you

Help me see

Beyond my desire

Beyond my wants

Open my eyes

To find those that are blind

I will search

Help me find

The lost

Forgive me for

a moment for

Closing my eyes

Putting on a blindfold of pride

For Hiding behind

The thoughts in my mind

Never stopping to find

That mercy of your kind

Should be extended

I see now

I promise to see

Who you bring to me

I promise to be

Who you've called me to be

I promise to see

I see now.

I’ve fallen in love with a lie

its story grips and rips at

the sincerity of my heart

so there’s pretense upon pretense

rather than

precept upon precept

how did I get here

I fell in love with an idea

that sent me rowing down

the sin river

I was entranced

Bewitched by this unicorn of a man

with the answers in his-

hand me a lifeline

I must regain control of my mind

yes one day at a time

but who can wait till tomorrow

I might be drowning in my sorrows

by then

This burden that I bare

is a pain that is shared by many of us

smothered by life’s defeats

falling prey to deciet

feeling too weak

to cry for help

I cried for help

you gave ear to me

in the days of my trouble

you comforted me

Though I’m pressed

and pressed

and pressed

Thanks be to God

I am not destroyed

There is power

redemption

love

hope

joy

happiness

in the name of Jesus

Just cry out

“Help Me!”

#poetry #Religion #faith #Jesus #deep #emotional

Now listen, I ain’t proud of this one and if you, laugh you just as bad as me.

By this time me and Big John had an apartment at Carver Village in Pascagula, Mississippi. This was in the 1960′s and Dr. King’s mind set and ways had made they way down to Mississippi. People began to see that we wasn’t being treated right and we was tired of it. Soon, marches and rallies started breaking out, which was real dangerous in Mississippi caz they was killing folks who wanted to, you know speak out. But we still kept marching and gathering at the churches. At that time the church was the place to come together and plan. Most of the men in the church would talk about how they would keep the neighborhood safe and everyman would have shifts. People were doing what they could to try to change the way things was. Now in my apartment complex, the land lord heard that some of us was organizing and going to marches. He was a mean old white man. He decided to evict anybody who went to march or protest. I know he had to be payen somebody in that development caz, it seemed like every day, no matter how we snuck, he foud out who was going. We’d come home and see all of people’s stuff all out on the street. That was all most people had caz we ain’t have much, and all they stuff was messed up and some of it got stolen.

I knew I couldn’t do much, but I knew I could do something. I told my friend Sarah to tell that old land lord that me and John had gone to a rally for civil rights. I wanted him to come see me. I had something for him.

I don’t know if you know about those thick wooden closet rods that you hang your clothes on? Well, I got that out the closet, turned out the lights, got in the closet, and waited for him to come. Not to much later I hear the front door crack open. As I waited in the closet, sweat beads gathered on my forehead. I knew I would get in some trouble for what I was bout to do, but something had to be done. I heard him come into the bed room and start moving stuff around. I figured I had to do something to show this man he can’t treat people any old kind of way. I looked down with the little bit of light that came through the crack between the door and the floor. I knew this was it. I lifted the rod. He opened the door. I screamed as loud as I could. “Help!!!!!!! Somebody Help Me!!!! Burglar!! Help me! With every statement screamed I let out a WHOP! upside his head, a BOP! upside his head, a WHAP! upside his head. I beat him like he stole something, or I pretended to think he was going to.

“Mildred! Mildred! What in God’s name do you think your doing women?”

“Oh my Lord, Mr. Smith! Oh my Lord! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“What’s gotten into you! You almost killed me!”

“Oh Lord! I thought you was a robber! I’m home all alone while Big John at work. I heard the door open and got scared for my life. Lord! let me get you some ice!”

“Naw, you can’t get me nothing you crazy fool! I ought a throw you out right now for that!”

“Oh please no Mr. Smith! My Big John worked so hard to get us into a nice place like this. What would your poor wife do if somebody was comen in on her, you’d want her to fight right.”

“Yeah, well I ain’t know I needed to knock! You stay away from me, you hear me. I don’t even want you coming to pay the rent. Tell John to bring it.”

“Thank you sir! I’m so, oh my goodness me.”

He walked out in such a tissy, I could barely wait till he closed the door before I bursted into triumphant laughter. I’m sure he gone think twice for he just go bucking up in somebody’s house.

I know, it was a little violent but I had to fight for my rights.

#Social Justice #Black life #History #nonfiction #storytelling

Now, its not talken bout folks if they talken bout themself. You just, agreeing with them, right? That being said, Lula told me this story and if you laugh or agree, I ain’t the one who said it, it was her.

Lula was the youngest of three children. The oldest was her brother lil John who looked just like his daddy, almost like a bulldog. He had a tight, scrunched up face, extra skin creating a double chin. He wasn’t big or nothen but the skin on his face was just a bit saggy. Anyway, John was a kind man and very hard working. I guess that’s how he got married to Mrs. Jenkins, he was so kind and considerate he was able to woo her into marrien him. Now Mrs. Jenkins was beautiful. Some would say the most beautiful woman in town. Mrs. Jenkins had long beautiful hair that she wore in a very fashionable updo. She was slim and had chocolate skin as smooth as silk. Kathy, the middle daughter, looked just like her momma, just as pretty, just as slim.

Not only was Mrs. Jenkins beautiful, chiiile she could dress. She made all her own clothes and clothes for her family. The only thing she really had to purchase were her hats. She wore beautiful hats and kept them on the top of her armoire away from the chilren’s sticky fingers. She also kept some change in her hat boxes caz she knew nobody could get to em.

Now Lula knew her mamma kept change in those hat boxes and when it come time for us to run to the Marcel’s Market, Lula would run in the house, grab a chair, climb to the top of the Armoire and reach her hand in to grab some pennies. One day, she decided she wanted to see how much change was in the hat box. So, she grabbed the chair, opened the armoire, and climbed up to the top putting her foot on the top shelf of the armoire to push herself up. She reached the top and saw it was plenni of pennies in the box. upon further inspection she looked and said, “Who’s dat ugly girl outside the window?” Lula had never seen her before, and she grew startled. “Who are you? Why you copying after me? Go home you old ugly girl, Humf, playing at my window.”

Lula ran outside and met Me and Mable at Marcel’s Market. “Why you take so long Lula?” I asked caz she had the money so we all had to wait on her, and Mrs. Marcel was getten suspicious of us. “I had to get this ugly girl out my face!”, “Lulu, what you talken bout”, “No really Fat, dis ugly girl came pass my window and kept copying me and doing everything I was doing!” “Well what you say?” Mable asked genuinely. “I said, Get yo ugly self out my window! Then I walked away and she did too.” Me and Mable ain’t think nothen of it. We just went on bout our bussiness and let Lula pay for the food.

The next day Lula came running outside in tears, She was 3 years younger than us so we always saw her as a big baby anyway. “Lula girl, why you cryen now?” “You wont believe it Fat!” “Well, what is it Lula?” “I was in da house diggin in the hat box and wanted to see if dat ugly girl was gone come back and mess with me..” “Well, did she?” “Oh she came alright and so did my momma.” “Oh no! You got caught?! Now how we gone get snac-” “Fat, let me finish. So in walks my mamma and she said, “What you doing up there?” and caz I’m smart, I said, I’m looking fo this ugly girl who keep mocking me out the window. My momma said, “Chile ain’t no window up there.” I told her yes ma’am it is. I showed her and she just went to laughen.” “Why she do that?” Mable interjected. “Wellllll, she said, “Baby, thats a mirror in my hat box and that little ugly girl you see is you.” No way mama I look like you and John John looks like daddy. That ain’t me! “Yes baby it is. That is a mirror. We can’t afford to have them round the house like other people so I just use the one in my hat box. And anyway, that little girl peeking through the mirror is not ugly, that’s my baby and she beautiful.” “Ha! Now Lula I know yo mama love you but she said you was beautiful?” Me and Mable bursted into laughter. “Why you laughing?” “Caz, you more like butti-ful” We laughed and laughed and like the baby Lula was, she ran home crying to her mama, but she the one said it, not me.

#Social Justice #Black life #History #nonfiction #storytelling

I built my belief on you

The idea that there was good

And that the bad I had

Was strange caz

You were normal

I built my hope on you

My hope of one who was good

In spite of all the bad

I was glad

You were different

You claimed a foundation

Strong

Solid

You told me to lean on

You

A load bearer

But imagine my surprise

When crumbling walls

Began to collide

And you could no longer hide

You were failing

As the ground around you sank

I realized that

Your soil was quick sand

Not a rock on which I could stand

Any longer

Liar

Imposter

Father

Man

Was there ever a chance

I would trust

Again

Self doubt

Self hate

Suicide

Contemplating

The very thing you made me enjoy

Life

But I guess it was my fault

Because yours rubbed together

Earthquaking my idea of

A Father

My dad

My father

My protector

No more

In a way it is good

Now that I no longer lean

On your ever failing arm

I’ve called the one

Who hears

The wiper of

My tears

Run daily

But I know I have help

A comforter

Teacher

Reminder of all things pure

Lovely

Just

And of a good report

Maybe it’s a good thing

If your facade never broke

I would still be in a boat

Waiting to sink

In the lies

I don’t hate you

I’m not angry

I just see clearly

Now the pain is gone

I now build on the rock

That is much higher than

I

Build on the corner stone

On whom I can rely

No more shaky foundations

No more uncertainty

Only peace

Surpassing all understanding

#poetry #faith #religion #deep #emotional

He used to sit in his chair

I would run to sit there

just to smell his scent

when he was gone

A child of 6 years old

Having never felt the cold

one November would bring

Tears

Fear

Dispare

Abandoned

How could my world that was perfect

only be so on the surface

Leave me questioning my purpose

was it all a lie

The journey to healing and love

finding comfort from above

always feeling a push no a shove

towards forgiveness

But how could I part

with the emotions that encased this broken heart

so young

so fast

I didn’t know what whole felt like

for pitty and shame

confusion and blame

had called me by name for so long

But then I met him

He saw the depth of my scars

and went right to work

to repair what I didn’t even know was broken

my heart

He began to address

what I commonly undressed

my worth

My value was subpar in my eyes

But the sparkle in his said otherwise

He saw what I did not

He loved what I did not

He wanted what I did not

Me

Others came

spoke like him

immitated his very essence

but always falling shallow

to the depths of his love

They said nice things

but couldn’t master

his tone of forgiveness

His lips rang a melody

that others would cover

but knowing they were imitators

led me to discover

there was none like

Him

The essence of love

true devotion

the fixer of wrong

redeemer of what was once stolen

Jesus

The day I gave you my heart

You heavenly glued

back the pieces

Of this Gorilla Soldiers once shattered

Torn

Bruised

and battered

Heart

Now tears of Joy

No fear

Desparate but not in dispair

Abandoned no more

My sould longs for you

until it has departed

this world

My chest revived

you healed the broken heart

of this girl

#poetry #faith #love #broken heart

Let me start off by saying, no I’m not sorry. Margaret always picking at Mable, just caz she bigger than her. To be honest neither one of em can fight much, it’s just Margaret got a lil mo weight than Mable, really that’s all. I was tired of Mable coming to me crying all the time sad caz Margaret done whoopped up on her again. See Mable was my best friend. She was a kind girl, real timid. I liked sitting by her in school caz she was smart as a whip. I especially like standing near her during chorus class caz the teacher can’t tell which of us singing good. I just move my mouth real wide up and down mouthing the words as if im singing, but really I can’t sing a lick. That’s why I like standen wit Mable, she sings like a bird, always on pich.

I just couldn’t for the life of me understand why Margaret didn’t like her so. I always thought it was caz Mable was pretty. She had nice long thick hair, that she wore in two braids that hit right above her behind. Her skin was a smooth caramel complection, and she had light brown eyes. She was part Choctaw Native American so she also had high cheek bones. She was a real pretty girl, so I figure Margaret was just jealous. Margaret was not a cute girl at all. I mean the family always said she’d grow into herself but she had grown a lot and still wasn’t too cute. She thick as ten dollars in pennies and just never looked kept. clothes were always fallen apart, hair neva fix. She was bout the raggediest 12 year old I knew.

Or maybe she was mad caz Mable was smart. Mable was bout the smartes girl at school. Margaret always struggled with stuff; her work, her chores, and her self. Her daddy would say she dumb as a box of rocks, so maybe she was just jealous of Mable.

Margaret always thought I was gone back her up caz we was cousins, but this time I just couldn’t take it. Mable came running to my house after school, crying her pretty eyes out saying that Margaret had whooped up on her again. I knew that I couldn’t just flat out whoop Margaret so I had to think of a plan. It was getting dark and time for my favorite radio progrem to come on. I sat with my costume I had just got for christmas and listened to the, “The Black Whip” programme on the radio. It was my favorite and mama knew it so she got me a costume so I could be jus like em. The program came on and the action began, the Black Whip helped the helpless people without anybody knowing who did it. It was then that I realized what I needed to do.

I went real quiet, to the back of the house and put on my costume. I waited till I saw Margaret crossing the street coming from Big Mamas house and I screamed out, “I’m the Black Whip!!!” I whooped up on Margaret, with the plastic pistol that came with the costume, until she cried out, “I’m sorry black whip, I’m sorry”. I hopped off of her and ran home. I knew I could out run’ner caz she thick so it take her long to move. By the time she ran to aunt Mary, I was in the house.

“Sissy! Sissy! Get Fat out here!” Aunt Mary hollered from next door. “Mary why you holleren over here? Fat aint did nothing”My mama aint like people accusen her children of doing nothen.

“Margie is up in this house talken bout some, the black whip beat me up. I know it was Fat, now get her out here.”

Before mama could give her a tongue lashing, Margaret ran to her momma and said, “No mama, it wa’ent Fat it was the Black Whip.

All I could do was laugh and think, Margaret daddy was right.

Bobby went on and got himself married. Sarah was a nice gal but she was truly a city gal. She ain’t like gulfport too much. But she loved herself some Bobby. I remember meeting Sarah for the first time. She and Bobby came to Rel’s house where all us cousins go to lay back and cut up. She laughed at everything we laughed at, got up an did the mashed potato just as good as Karren Jean. Sarah really was a nice girl. But she and Bobby didn’t last too long. The love ran dry, I guess. We all knew that Sarah was too good to be true for Bobby. I mean, he worked but he was lazy as all get out and I promise you he was dumb as a box of rocks. We all wondered why a nice girl like Sarah would get with Bobby. Not to mention he moved so slow, he was slow as molasses on a 30 degree day. So we weren’t surprised when Sarah went back to Chicago with her family, but I was a little sad. I missed her company, I had kinda got used to her. She would come dressed clean as the board of health. I even started getten Fannie to make me some upidity close like Sarah’s. But she gone now. One day I came home from school to a room full a soggy faces, which is not common round these parts. I mean, we some hard folks in dis here house. A real fancy looking black detective was in the house trying to see if we knew anything about where Sarah might be caz her folks cain’t find her. Big ma went to prayen and hollering and carriyng on so, I missed what the fine fellow said about when she was last seen. We hadn’t seen her in about fo weeks. So we couldn’t help him. Isa shame tho, caz Sarah really was a nice girl. I just remeber her bright smile and fine fancy hoses she wore on her legs like the white folks. Time went on and we got a newspaper clipping telling us Sarah had been found dead in a back alley. We were so sad, we ain’t have the heart to tell Bobby, so we just let him be, he wasn’t much happy no way, why makem even mo sad. Walking home from school acrros the railroad tracks I thought about Sarah’s nice yellow jacket. It had penny sized buttons in the shape of ship yard anchors. The buttons were a sort of light copper and the jacket was always pressed and straight. After wiping dirt off my shoe, caz Big Ma would call me a dirty heathen, I stood up and saw a lady walking to me. I thought, “She look real crazy walking on the train tracks with those high heel shoes on.” I got closer to her and dropped everything in my hands. She looked surprised. “Hey Fat, ain’t you glad I’m back” I promised God I would never fall asleep in church again an den I said, “He- Hey Sarah?”.