Strange Fruit

Here’s the poem for day 13 of National Poetry Month:

Ugli fruit seems such a peculiar name
to bestow on fruit that has an ancestral
lineage that no average fruit can compete
with. The name plants seeds of
stereotypical thinking so deeply ingrained
& associated with name, one has to wonder
was it done on purpose?

Did some non-native take a bite
of ugli fruit so many years ago,
expecting it to taste one way &
when he discovered it tasted
better than expected,
he started calling it ugli fruit
& the name, it just stuck,
though people continued to taste
the fruit and knew the fruit was
anything but ugly.

Only
no one dared
broach the subject of
changing the name cuz change
is strange & something no one
hardly welcomes. So let’s just
let things remain the same.
Even if they are wrong.

And
that’s why it’s easier for you
to judge my identity based on
the content of a 10-second
sound bite of information
than
to actually get to know me.
The ugly truth is that
strange fruit does exist—
they perpetuate violence in
the stead of humanity & reject
genuine love towards one another—
& some of them just may
resemble me. But that strange fruit
is not me. I’ve been trying to get you
to see. But now I’ll offer you just my
silence.

Peace & Love,

Rosalind

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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.
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