Monday, November 28, 2011
thanks for coming
Thanks everyone for coming. I have been sharing my work and words. I have given you many of the poems and quilts already made. I would like to move forward now and share newer work and some of my sewing projects, fancy jackets, new quilts, jewelry, thoughts on life and such. I also will be teaching a couple quiltmaking classes, here in Oakland Ca and at a retreat in Albion, ca at the Lord's Land. Right now I have a quilt on display at the Alameda County Arts Commission show in Oakland,near the Oakland Museum. It is Revels with Matisse. Love Sara
birth song
birth song
swimmer in the secret sea
we welcome you
welcome to the world
baby girl
come out and share our lives
come out and share our love
I call you out
little one
come and see us
come and be loved
come and nurse at my breast
be held in my arms
receive our love
and be known
come to me
my beautiful
and new
baby girl
11/01
swimmer in the secret sea
we welcome you
welcome to the world
baby girl
come out and share our lives
come out and share our love
I call you out
little one
come and see us
come and be loved
come and nurse at my breast
be held in my arms
receive our love
and be known
come to me
my beautiful
and new
baby girl
11/01
tribute to ritz
This is a tribute to Ritz, a strong and brave shar pei rescued from the wilds of Elko Nevada and loving companion to Debbie Valazquez.
Killions' Red / Putting on the Ritz
A red dog of good breeding, he suffered much and wandered long. He came at last to the house of good friends where he abode all his days until his death. If his story be known it would raise the hairs on the neck yet he stayed faithful and true to the demands of his fate and desire to be a good dog.
Little is known about his life before he was rescued from the shelter after being a stray but on one of his vet visits a bullet was found in his leg. We miss you Ritz.
just a thought
Just as thought going in for a cesarean delivery:
Plucking the fruit of life from the divine ripe bellies...
2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
birth series poems 1
I did also write a few poems about birth and motherhood.
newborns
cries of welcome
beautiful little flower faces
unfolding in wonder
as they greet the world
blood sweat tears and joy
that's what it's all about
each one of us belongs to someone
coming in love
a whole new life
creation
who understands how a child grows within
in the secret rosy folds of the mother
first the heart beating and then
the creation of a new soul,
all its own self?
if you knew this,
you would be God.
1997
planetary music
every living thing is under the
dominion of God, his creatures all
even us.
these are His secrets
and He does not share them
with us.
we have not the power to see what He sees
nor to rule -
let us accept our small place
in His universe
and try to do well
with our parts.
aug 1997
newborns
cries of welcome
beautiful little flower faces
unfolding in wonder
as they greet the world
blood sweat tears and joy
that's what it's all about
each one of us belongs to someone
coming in love
a whole new life
creation
who understands how a child grows within
in the secret rosy folds of the mother
first the heart beating and then
the creation of a new soul,
all its own self?
if you knew this,
you would be God.
1997
planetary music
every living thing is under the
dominion of God, his creatures all
even us.
these are His secrets
and He does not share them
with us.
we have not the power to see what He sees
nor to rule -
let us accept our small place
in His universe
and try to do well
with our parts.
aug 1997
slavery series, last of set, grow
grow
grow up big
grow up strong
freedom time is coming
everybody know
yankees coming
hard times here
you born a slave
but not for long
my time coming too
our time coming
then we go
far as we can
away from here
someplace new
take new names
all things possible
coming soon
make your legs long
raise up your back
we gonna work
only for us
and we gonna play
only for us
and when we ready
and sleep
and all be new
and ours be ours
and us be us
and FREE
This is the end of the series for now, thanks, Sara.
grow up big
grow up strong
freedom time is coming
everybody know
yankees coming
hard times here
you born a slave
but not for long
my time coming too
our time coming
then we go
far as we can
away from here
someplace new
take new names
all things possible
coming soon
make your legs long
raise up your back
we gonna work
only for us
and we gonna play
only for us
and when we ready
and sleep
and all be new
and ours be ours
and us be us
and FREE
This is the end of the series for now, thanks, Sara.
series cont, remember us
remember us
our past is torn away
made not
lost are the names
of our grandmothers
the aunts the uncles
but you cannot
erace
our spirits
remember us
remember us
remember us
our past is torn away
made not
lost are the names
of our grandmothers
the aunts the uncles
but you cannot
erace
our spirits
remember us
remember us
remember us
cont series
in the new land
they put people in cages
and beat us when
we cried out for help
the life you remember
before they caught you
chained you
took you in the ship of weeping
where so many died
it hurts to remember
then it was warm and good
and then was love
and father mother sister brother
child
it hurts to remember
it hurts to forget
they put people in cages
and beat us when
we cried out for help
the life you remember
before they caught you
chained you
took you in the ship of weeping
where so many died
it hurts to remember
then it was warm and good
and then was love
and father mother sister brother
child
it hurts to remember
it hurts to forget
cont series,names of evil
names of evil
pattyrollers
kkk
gestapo
camps
resettlement
names of fear
we have survived you
but not without the scars
pattyrollers
kkk
gestapo
camps
resettlement
names of fear
we have survived you
but not without the scars
cont series, how could you
how could you
how could you
sell your son
how could you
sell your daughter
you came to her in the night
the beautiful dark woman
you took her with your heat
not hers
and left the bed of your wife
cold
born in pain
your child
your own face
in caramel
and when your wife
accused you
with her eyes
you tore the child away
from her mother
and she was sold.
tell me,
how could this be?
how could you
sell your son
how could you
sell your daughter
you came to her in the night
the beautiful dark woman
you took her with your heat
not hers
and left the bed of your wife
cold
born in pain
your child
your own face
in caramel
and when your wife
accused you
with her eyes
you tore the child away
from her mother
and she was sold.
tell me,
how could this be?
series cont, baby
the baby die
it all right
he don't have to
be no slave
his hands stay soft
his eyes stay soft
his little hair
so soft to my hand
I cry now
it all right
he don't have to
be no slave
his hands stay soft
his eyes stay soft
his little hair
so soft to my hand
I cry now
series cont, somebody
somebody
I want my children
to know
they is somebody
the masters say we is nobody
but always we are somebody
and I don't forget
my mama
teaching me
who I am and who I can be
they try to make me
nobody
and they say it again
with the words
and the whip
but I know
I am a Somebody
and I want my children
to always
know it too.
10/16/98
take me home
take me back to my village
it smell warm and good
my mama cooking
chicken rice
spices they dont get here
take me home
I see their faces
dying is good
I ready
I done my job
I been here long enough
it all right now
goodbye all
take me home
yes
I want my children
to know
they is somebody
the masters say we is nobody
but always we are somebody
and I don't forget
my mama
teaching me
who I am and who I can be
they try to make me
nobody
and they say it again
with the words
and the whip
but I know
I am a Somebody
and I want my children
to always
know it too.
10/16/98
take me home
take me back to my village
it smell warm and good
my mama cooking
chicken rice
spices they dont get here
take me home
I see their faces
dying is good
I ready
I done my job
I been here long enough
it all right now
goodbye all
take me home
yes
series cont., crying
I hear weeping
back of the quarters
they catch someone
they cut him
and the dogs be on him
John wash the dogs
they blood on the dogs
and their feet
and their mouths
I wish I somewhere
so far away
never know this day
I think I know
who they catch
no one say to me
but I feeling
so so low and empty
what good is love
when this can happen?
where is God
they say love me
why God not
kill them all?
I crying too
just don't show
back of the quarters
they catch someone
they cut him
and the dogs be on him
John wash the dogs
they blood on the dogs
and their feet
and their mouths
I wish I somewhere
so far away
never know this day
I think I know
who they catch
no one say to me
but I feeling
so so low and empty
what good is love
when this can happen?
where is God
they say love me
why God not
kill them all?
I crying too
just don't show
series, cotton/silk
cotton/silk
I wear cotton
she wear silk
pin and tuck and
sew ribbon
sew lace
soft
smooth
pretty dresses
softest colors and little dresses
touch with my hand
sit and sew
my back hurt
and eyes don't see
sew so long
getting ready she say
big party
meet all the young mans
before they go away
hear talk of big war
today going to look pretty
catch her a man
then what for me?
10/16/98
stained
I broke an old plate
she beat me
and I bled
she cried too
said it was her mother's
one night
he was angry
one night
we both bled
after
I washed her clothing
in the big house laundry
I washed mine
in the stream in back
but the stains
remain
I wear cotton
she wear silk
pin and tuck and
sew ribbon
sew lace
soft
smooth
pretty dresses
softest colors and little dresses
touch with my hand
sit and sew
my back hurt
and eyes don't see
sew so long
getting ready she say
big party
meet all the young mans
before they go away
hear talk of big war
today going to look pretty
catch her a man
then what for me?
10/16/98
stained
I broke an old plate
she beat me
and I bled
she cried too
said it was her mother's
one night
he was angry
one night
we both bled
after
I washed her clothing
in the big house laundry
I washed mine
in the stream in back
but the stains
remain
cont series, am I beautiful?
am I beautiful?
am I beautiful?
my breasts high
my waist small
I see how them men look at me
when I walk
I hold up my head
high
I walk talk
someday I don't belong
to nobody
but myself
I go only
to man I choose
I choose you
only you
10/16/98
meet me in the wildness of the woods
we will make love
and touch all of us
in the dark
nobody see but us
nobody hear but us
meet me
am I beautiful?
my breasts high
my waist small
I see how them men look at me
when I walk
I hold up my head
high
I walk talk
someday I don't belong
to nobody
but myself
I go only
to man I choose
I choose you
only you
10/16/98
meet me in the wildness of the woods
we will make love
and touch all of us
in the dark
nobody see but us
nobody hear but us
meet me
cont series
the smell so bad
I throwing up before
I get into the ship
it dark it hot
we pressed together
someone gave birth
we all hear her crying
louder and louder
the baby don't cry
and then she softer and softer
and then none
I never forget
that hell
the worst part
after awhile
more room
they throw them overboard
their parents never know
to sing their death
we dead to our old selves
we dead to our old lives
but we live
breathe in out
work real hard
grow plants
we sweat a lot
but the air is sweet
in the springtime
10/17/98
cont series, call me by my name
call me by my name
call me by my name
not my slave name
a few of us
made it to Canada
sweet new home
so many still labor sweat
bleed raped girls
men not allowed no pride
just they see us as beasts
we are real
it is cold but
the names of our tribes
our villages
are gone
they erased the names
but they cannot
erace me
in the dark
whisper the names at night
to the children
when they sleep
our Africa names
our Africa tribes
tell about the rivers
and the plants
how they smell
and the animals
how they look and move
don't forget
how
Africa feel
and smell and taste and sound
whisper in the old words
in the dark
so they keep
the feelings
whisper my name
my people
my true land
my true place
call me by my name
not my slave name
a few of us
made it to Canada
sweet new home
so many still labor sweat
bleed raped girls
men not allowed no pride
just they see us as beasts
we are real
it is cold but
the names of our tribes
our villages
are gone
they erased the names
but they cannot
erace me
in the dark
whisper the names at night
to the children
when they sleep
our Africa names
our Africa tribes
tell about the rivers
and the plants
how they smell
and the animals
how they look and move
don't forget
how
Africa feel
and smell and taste and sound
whisper in the old words
in the dark
so they keep
the feelings
whisper my name
my people
my true land
my true place
cont series, left behind
left behind
slavers came and took you
your mother screaming
your father lying on the ground in his blood
our beautiful one is gone
taken away and gone
we do not know
if you live or die
it is a cruel hard thing
to live without you
and to live without
an answer
your mother
she does not smile
as she did
where are you?
do you live?
have you children?
are they kind to you?
does your child
look like me?
no one can tell me these things
but you are not dead to me
left behind
without the power of a man
to take you back
bring you home
to your son
to us
to me
alas, gone away
the men with the guns
have taken you
away
did you bring a good price, my love?
I hope they are kind to you
somewhere there
10/15/98
slavers came and took you
your mother screaming
your father lying on the ground in his blood
our beautiful one is gone
taken away and gone
we do not know
if you live or die
it is a cruel hard thing
to live without you
and to live without
an answer
your mother
she does not smile
as she did
where are you?
do you live?
have you children?
are they kind to you?
does your child
look like me?
no one can tell me these things
but you are not dead to me
left behind
without the power of a man
to take you back
bring you home
to your son
to us
to me
alas, gone away
the men with the guns
have taken you
away
did you bring a good price, my love?
I hope they are kind to you
somewhere there
10/15/98
series cont, all the way to free
all the way to free
running in the creek
running in the woods
didn't hear no dogs
yet
sure they after me
never had no new dress
this one torn now
my head sure do hurt
where he beat me down
and my lip is swole
but I is free
this night
and maybe I get there
maybe I do
I got the feeling
I get there
CANADA
and when I do
I learn to write
and I write it all
for you
aint never been free
this long before
and they meeting me
on the other side
with the wagon
I see it
I see it
I see the wagon
this time
I 'm gonna get there
all the way
to free
my heart beat fast
my feet start to hurt
I'm gonna get there
this time
note from sara, one of my ancestors was the man with the wagon, a practicing abolitionist and station on the underground railroad. others of my heritage were slaves in egypt, germany, lithuania, and poland.
running in the creek
running in the woods
didn't hear no dogs
yet
sure they after me
never had no new dress
this one torn now
my head sure do hurt
where he beat me down
and my lip is swole
but I is free
this night
and maybe I get there
maybe I do
I got the feeling
I get there
CANADA
and when I do
I learn to write
and I write it all
for you
aint never been free
this long before
and they meeting me
on the other side
with the wagon
I see it
I see it
I see the wagon
this time
I 'm gonna get there
all the way
to free
my heart beat fast
my feet start to hurt
I'm gonna get there
this time
note from sara, one of my ancestors was the man with the wagon, a practicing abolitionist and station on the underground railroad. others of my heritage were slaves in egypt, germany, lithuania, and poland.
cont series, keeping quiet, other side of cotton
keeping quiet
I just look
at the people
I dont say too much
one time I spit in the drink
and they don't know
she give me
her old dresses
say I sew real nice
and I should stay up there
at the big house
take care her hair
and pretty things
life be easy
up there
no honey it aint never easy
for us
flowertree quilt
I am sewing on
the mistress' quilt
little tiny stitches
all the way round
every flower
it be beautiful
she gonna put it on her bed
where her and master sleep
slow sew
long time to finish
I hope she get some
children
under there
I know she want them
she waiting a long time
still bleeding every month
light skinned children
there in the yard
she see some of them
is not dark enough
he show in them
I hope he get some
on her
not on me
she be happy
me too
maybe he leave me alone
maybe she singing
like that time
it almost happen
that be good
she treat me alright
for a master's wife
I think she miss
her family
her momma send her
this pretty flower stuff
get it from India
it far away
like Africa
I get some little pieces too
for my quilt
go on my bed
and some too
from my momma dress
before she die
she give me a lot of pieces
sometimes I sew for me
little bit here
little bit there
before I fall asleep
when it quiet
and I alone
it good to be
a sewing woman
inside and dry and warm
and my hands dont bleed
like the others
other side of cotton
I guess
I just look
at the people
I dont say too much
one time I spit in the drink
and they don't know
she give me
her old dresses
say I sew real nice
and I should stay up there
at the big house
take care her hair
and pretty things
life be easy
up there
no honey it aint never easy
for us
flowertree quilt
I am sewing on
the mistress' quilt
little tiny stitches
all the way round
every flower
it be beautiful
she gonna put it on her bed
where her and master sleep
slow sew
long time to finish
I hope she get some
children
under there
I know she want them
she waiting a long time
still bleeding every month
light skinned children
there in the yard
she see some of them
is not dark enough
he show in them
I hope he get some
on her
not on me
she be happy
me too
maybe he leave me alone
maybe she singing
like that time
it almost happen
that be good
she treat me alright
for a master's wife
I think she miss
her family
her momma send her
this pretty flower stuff
get it from India
it far away
like Africa
I get some little pieces too
for my quilt
go on my bed
and some too
from my momma dress
before she die
she give me a lot of pieces
sometimes I sew for me
little bit here
little bit there
before I fall asleep
when it quiet
and I alone
it good to be
a sewing woman
inside and dry and warm
and my hands dont bleed
like the others
other side of cotton
I guess
continuing, pretty baby
pretty baby
beautiful baby
on my breast
sweet young eyes
don't worry
I take good care
of you
brown breast
white baby
yellow hair
pretty baby
I love you too
don't be mean
when you grow up
mama mama
mama mama
cool my back
take away this pain
from my coochie
mama mama
take me away
cover me up
and hold me tight
and sing to me
mama mama
I'm a slave
mama mama
take me away
beautiful baby
on my breast
sweet young eyes
don't worry
I take good care
of you
brown breast
white baby
yellow hair
pretty baby
I love you too
don't be mean
when you grow up
mama mama
mama mama
cool my back
take away this pain
from my coochie
mama mama
take me away
cover me up
and hold me tight
and sing to me
mama mama
I'm a slave
mama mama
take me away
slavery poems, cont, someday
someday
put my tears in a bottle
they will shine like brilliants
wear it after I'm gone
mother God
your child, I am weeping
there is no comfort here
but you will wear it for me
and tell
the ones who follow
another generation
maybe they got better lives
not me
it never get better
for me
but they be lighter
they be stronger
maybe somebody else listen
maybe times change
it got to
get better
10/17/98
put my tears in a bottle
they will shine like brilliants
wear it after I'm gone
mother God
your child, I am weeping
there is no comfort here
but you will wear it for me
and tell
the ones who follow
another generation
maybe they got better lives
not me
it never get better
for me
but they be lighter
they be stronger
maybe somebody else listen
maybe times change
it got to
get better
10/17/98
slavery poems continuing, what I wear now
what I wear now
I wore amber and silver
red and gold cloths
my mother made
I was a beautiful bride
stood up tall
and my breasts were high
and there was love in my eyes
for you
and all the people
in my village
were happy for us
now it is homespun
coarse and rough
I wove it on the loom
in the weaving house behind
it scratches
and there are no beads
on my neck
no rings
my braids are plain
and I wash
but not in the river
these fish do not have names
the name they call me
is not my name
not the name he spoke in love
when we joined together
and the hands in the night
are not the hands of love
but I live
and sometimes
I stand up all the way
remembering
my life before
I am still me
though they do not know
who I am
and my good secrets
carry me
in this day
in this place
where I live now
I wore amber and silver
red and gold cloths
my mother made
I was a beautiful bride
stood up tall
and my breasts were high
and there was love in my eyes
for you
and all the people
in my village
were happy for us
now it is homespun
coarse and rough
I wove it on the loom
in the weaving house behind
it scratches
and there are no beads
on my neck
no rings
my braids are plain
and I wash
but not in the river
these fish do not have names
the name they call me
is not my name
not the name he spoke in love
when we joined together
and the hands in the night
are not the hands of love
but I live
and sometimes
I stand up all the way
remembering
my life before
I am still me
though they do not know
who I am
and my good secrets
carry me
in this day
in this place
where I live now
slavery poems cont
what he do
them stripes are itching
mama says don't scratch
got to keep them clean
if I want to stay alive
I don't want to stay alive
after what he did to me
and I know
he gonna do it some more
to me
like all us here
in the cabins
say he own me
say don't fight him
hurt me too
down there
my skin jump and it's
burning so hard
when she wash me
she touch me
oh so gentle
but my feet shake
my hands shake
and I just cry
cause it aint over
till I get free
maybe I try again
if there aint no baby
them stripes are itching
mama says don't scratch
got to keep them clean
if I want to stay alive
I don't want to stay alive
after what he did to me
and I know
he gonna do it some more
to me
like all us here
in the cabins
say he own me
say don't fight him
hurt me too
down there
my skin jump and it's
burning so hard
when she wash me
she touch me
oh so gentle
but my feet shake
my hands shake
and I just cry
cause it aint over
till I get free
maybe I try again
if there aint no baby
slavery poems cont
crying
I hear weeping
in the back of the quarters
washing down the blood
he tried to run
didn't get free
no didn't get free
didn't come back
like he was
washing down the blood
where the dogs lie down
I hear weeping
in the back of the quarters
washing down the blood
he tried to run
didn't get free
no didn't get free
didn't come back
like he was
washing down the blood
where the dogs lie down
slavery poems 3, talking at night
talking at night
scribbling in red in
my books
all night long
words come
not from my life
they are talking
through me
the slaves had to talk
and I guess that
I was the one
listening and waiting
to write it down
and sew it together
and say it out
I'm grateful
they chose me
white girl yeah
but I'm listening
and writing down
and learning.
"Thank you all for coming."
I'm sorry I couldn't help
I wasn't born yet
but here I am now.
Please don't stop talking to me.
I don't want to miss out on this,
but I would like to sleep now.
Thank you.
It makes my stuff
not seem so bad.
It makes me sad
my daughter was gone away
and I let her be taken,
my gift from God.
But I'm here now
and she's alive
and I can get better.
dry
they cut off part to his
leg
for running
and they cut off part of me
too
inside
when they did
cant feel any feelings
anymore
better that way
dont you think
aint enough tears anyway
to cry for
what they did to us here
better to just go on
and work
hollow and dry
juice of life
squeezed and gone
I aint never gonna see
that home
no more
so I stay dry
just a dry leaf
blow on the wind
that's me
I go to work
I go to sleep
no hot
no wet
all dry now
all dry now
dried up
no time left to cry
no time left to dream
not just leaf though
I a seed
big hard shell
still good inside
could grow
maybe
no water here
this place
seed stay in there
sleep
for
scribbling in red in
my books
all night long
words come
not from my life
they are talking
through me
the slaves had to talk
and I guess that
I was the one
listening and waiting
to write it down
and sew it together
and say it out
I'm grateful
they chose me
white girl yeah
but I'm listening
and writing down
and learning.
"Thank you all for coming."
I'm sorry I couldn't help
I wasn't born yet
but here I am now.
Please don't stop talking to me.
I don't want to miss out on this,
but I would like to sleep now.
Thank you.
It makes my stuff
not seem so bad.
It makes me sad
my daughter was gone away
and I let her be taken,
my gift from God.
But I'm here now
and she's alive
and I can get better.
dry
they cut off part to his
leg
for running
and they cut off part of me
too
inside
when they did
cant feel any feelings
anymore
better that way
dont you think
aint enough tears anyway
to cry for
what they did to us here
better to just go on
and work
hollow and dry
juice of life
squeezed and gone
I aint never gonna see
that home
no more
so I stay dry
just a dry leaf
blow on the wind
that's me
I go to work
I go to sleep
no hot
no wet
all dry now
all dry now
dried up
no time left to cry
no time left to dream
not just leaf though
I a seed
big hard shell
still good inside
could grow
maybe
no water here
this place
seed stay in there
sleep
for
slavery poems series 2
white girl
how dare I
white girl
make a quilt
about slavery?
maybe thats why I can
because for some
it still hurts
too much
10/14/98
underwater
there are no graves for us
we died in the middle passage
shitting our guts out
vomiting
it hurt
until peace and rest came
at last
and they threw us overboard
missing and gone
our families grieved for us
not knowing
if they grieved for
our deaths
our lives
10/14/98
white blood
I can see the faces
of the men who
owned us
in our children
their color
changing
who we are
the stories of our ancestors
that gave us courage
are lost
stained with another race
we become
someone new
a new people
the midwife
I show you plants
deep in the woods
make you heal
make you miscarry
I show you how to stitch
how to catch the baby
I help them die
I help some to live
bring on the flow
bring out the child
bring down the fever
this a deep wisdom
you got to stop
and hear good
what the people say
the right plant heal
make stronger
the wrong plant kill
got to do it right
got to stitch together
got to boil it up
keep it clean clean clean
before you cut the flesh
before you sew it up
I learn this from my mother
and the old woman
secret woodsie wisdom
help to save us
sometimes I got to watch them die
worse for me when
I cant help
my stuff aint big enough
for every time
every wound that comes from God
I cant heal
and some wounds help
by talking
and some by sitting by
and some
I cant do nothing at all
those kind hurts me worst
I thank God
He made me this
and for the children
come out in my hands
grow up fine and strong
and beautiful
I put blessings on them
all of them
help them to grow
that's the best part
how dare I
white girl
make a quilt
about slavery?
maybe thats why I can
because for some
it still hurts
too much
10/14/98
underwater
there are no graves for us
we died in the middle passage
shitting our guts out
vomiting
it hurt
until peace and rest came
at last
and they threw us overboard
missing and gone
our families grieved for us
not knowing
if they grieved for
our deaths
our lives
10/14/98
white blood
I can see the faces
of the men who
owned us
in our children
their color
changing
who we are
the stories of our ancestors
that gave us courage
are lost
stained with another race
we become
someone new
a new people
the midwife
I show you plants
deep in the woods
make you heal
make you miscarry
I show you how to stitch
how to catch the baby
I help them die
I help some to live
bring on the flow
bring out the child
bring down the fever
this a deep wisdom
you got to stop
and hear good
what the people say
the right plant heal
make stronger
the wrong plant kill
got to do it right
got to stitch together
got to boil it up
keep it clean clean clean
before you cut the flesh
before you sew it up
I learn this from my mother
and the old woman
secret woodsie wisdom
help to save us
sometimes I got to watch them die
worse for me when
I cant help
my stuff aint big enough
for every time
every wound that comes from God
I cant heal
and some wounds help
by talking
and some by sitting by
and some
I cant do nothing at all
those kind hurts me worst
I thank God
He made me this
and for the children
come out in my hands
grow up fine and strong
and beautiful
I put blessings on them
all of them
help them to grow
that's the best part
the slavery poems : channeling the pain of the past
Greetings, friends. I want to share these poems which I wrote as a series back in 1998. I felt as though I was listening to spirits tell their stories. I hope very sincerely they will not offend anyone in the verbal dialect style. I wrote down what I heard in my spirit and heart. The language used was the way I heard the voices speaking of their suffering. It's not meant to be white girl looking down on the ignorant English mistakes. I felt if I wrote it in modern standard English it would lose something. Please talk to me if you have a problem with the style.I worried so much about that problem that I have not published these before. Now I want to give you these.
part 1:
listening to other voices
men and women of the past
captive
held against their will
held and abused
yet still they prayed
and gave birth
to our new peoples
of the americas
my head aches
yet I will let them
speak through me
It will not break me apart
to let them come
and whisper weep and shout
their stories
speak through me
slavery quilt
another quilt is scratching
at the back of my brain
about slavery
I can hear them calling
"speak
of our tears our blood
raped by the plantation owner
no hope of days of peace
until I grow too big
with his child
and he owns me
if only I was ugly
they say the child will be light
and then She
will hate me"
will it hurt me to make it?
will it hurt them to see it?
will it hurt my friends to help me
make it?
or is it a quilt
for healing
go into the dark
speak out
give us a voice
remember us
remember us
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)