Black History Month - Introduction
The cat took its paws off my tongue
I broke my silence
I broke, the yolk is the anger in the white
Do cats have favorite food
I hope the cat returns
O I hope it comes tonight
For I am black and invisible in the night
But my voice, my voice
This poem shall be heard that I write
With the point of a thousand stars
With the white milk of a thousand galaxies
Of memories
Milk of surrogate mothers
Milk of white England, Europeans and Americans
My voice will drink this milk and sing
And sing the bitterness I taste
I will spit
The way you spit on my race
The way you spit in my face
Because you thought your light was so bright
I would not see
My own misery
Was rooted in your false kindness to me
Was rooted in this hatred
Of a color
From the beginning of the world
When God stepped out
And changed it with the coming of the light
Tonight I write
Longer than the month of days
The love of liberation
The bridge to the better days
My poem is not revenge
I am searching for catharsis here
Something to make truth
Vomits up itself
And foul the feathered air
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment