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Untitled Poem #3

I wrote something about a month ago. Some of you may know that I dabble in poetry as well. I figured I may do something a little different. And share it here. Since it seems to go with my blog’s black Love theme. Happy New Year. And please enjoy:

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I know why she stood straight on that auction block

Shoulders never slumping,

Head held high—her humanity holding her together.

Erect, poised, spirit a flutter in the darkest of circumstances. It seemed almost as if she might take flight. But how can that be? When Master declared her somewhere between ½ and ¾ as much alive as he? A system constructed to break her down and yet up she stood?

Because she had a secret! She knew her heart beat so that he’d have a rhythm to fall asleep to. She’d breathed out enough air to understand how hers gave him life. Her spinal cord aligned so that his fingers would have a trail to follow.  Neurons fired so that she could remember exactly how many hairs sat at the right corner of his bottom lip.

She nursed the memory of nestling a King in her bosom. So no amount of bondage or constitutional statutes could reduce her pulse to 3/5 of what she knew it to be. And if she ever reduced her Love fractionally, they’d both cease to exist that day and forevermore. A whole woman Loved by a whole man.

I know why she stood straight on that auction block

Shoulders never slumping,

Head held high—her humanity holding her together.

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About The Black Soliloquist

Summer Rain. Whispers me to sleep and wakes me up again. Sometimes I swear I hear it call my name. You wash away the pain. My summer rain.

One response »

  1. Great poem boo. There is no strength like a black woman and black man united. They stood tall for each other!

    Reply

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