Black Like Me

It’s day eight of National Poetry Month and today’s poem was inspired by the division that exists in the black community, where you have to think or be like everyone else. You have to jump on every bandwagon and are not allowed to have your own way of thinking or processing things.

My stance has always and will always be that Black Lives Matter, but no one and, I mean, no one can tell me what that looks like. No one is going to force me to jump on any bandwagon of ideas. I am saddened by the attack on black lives. Period. That includes the loss of life at the hands of Lil Pookie over some trifling ass gang shit (excuse my French) and the loss of life at the hands of Officer White.

We all have one life to live and life should be valued as a precious commodity. It’s not though. And that makes me terribly sad.

Black Like Me

You people are choking me
with your righteous & enlightened
indignation
& I can’t breathe. Your
I’m so much blacker than you ‘tude
is suffocating me. Release me.
I am struggling to stay free.

I know the proclamation was a lie,
a façade of eradication, to try to
eliminate attitudes & beliefs that kept
my ancestors from being free. But
here’s what I want to get you to see:
After being a slave for hundreds of years,
it’s gonna be more than a notion to
re-enslave me.

Your enlightened & conscious ideas
don’t fit me. Got me struggling
to be free to think for myself.
You don’t own my struggle &
you don’t own my feet. You don’t
know how far I walked, just to be me.

I can be black like me
without being
black like you. I can do
what works for me. Because
as the world turns, it gives
me one life to live & I don’t
have to give it over to you,
for you to dice & chop apart with your
malnourished ideas about what it means
to be black & free
thinking or black
& free me.

Peace & Love,

Rosalind

Advertisements

About Rosalind Guy

I'm broken & my soul is weary/ my weary soul rebels, fights/ anything & anyone who tries to heal me/I beat my head against a wall of memories/ trying hard to break free from the chain of memories/ I can only be free by saying it so/ i weave a necklace from words and finally/ I find freedom/ free free free. As you can see, words are powerful to me. As Maya Angelou said, words are wallpaper of the soul. I have lots of nightmarish memories that threaten to break me, but I learned a long time ago about the power of words. They can be used to heal and destroy anything that threatens to destroy the person. Words coupled with love have the power to save and heal. I am author of three books: Skinny Dipping in the Pool of Womanhood, Tattered Butterfly Wings, and Blues of a Love Junkie. I am a high school English teacher. I am a former reporter. I am a mother. I am a woman. I am a fierce advocate for those who cannot speak for themselves, those who's voices go unheard. Check out my Amazon author page at the following link: http://www.amazon.com/Rosalind-Guy/e/B00BGH5F88/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1432491754&sr=8-1.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Black Like Me

  1. This is a really powerful and in my opinion spot on piece. It truly is sad that this still goes on in the 21st century, but it does and we can’t be reminded enough of the struggle. Excellent piece of writing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s