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Every Next Day

Was born to be a mule, got barn weaned in the August hay Didn’t know ev’ry next day was gon be like my first Labor Day My Louisi-Ana, ebony twin fetter friends told me, I was gon gator cry pray ev’ry next day That I better bray learn to swallow my pain, just like my mama did on my birth day The only promise given to darkie me shy, ‘bout how yoke things gon bigotry be ev’ry next day I was gon corral cry, neigh cry ... rein cry, just like I did the first moment of that first teary day As I grew into a young oxen, and started a-muzzle thinking on my own My first daddy tongue lash taught me: Ev’ry next day, only rebel speak proud when you’re alone So ev’ry now and then, when I go into busy body town to pick up some farm supplies I know I better lower my eyes, when a cotton-skin pass by — Keep my head down! Or ev’ry next day, I’m gon feel like it is my last day I once looked into an old lion’s sad eyes, and saw his hope had died That his ev’ry next day, he a ne’er was gon ev’r feel gazelle alive And I knew willow then, turning over the dirt ev’ry next day was my only labor pay Turning over the dirt ev’ry next day would be my final expense pay Met me a big belly girl, pretty as midnight Said her Massa treated her good, like she was white And I knew sorrow straightaway, that the joy in her ev’ry next day was gon be short and slim Like a prickly cotton stem I secretly read, where the Good Book said: The color of the Sun shines the same on ev’ryone ev’ryday But the pale barrel of a gun, showed me that ain’t what the black smoke say Steel fingers speak with tungsten purity Weary me believe, ev’ry next day be like the first exit womb day Only the pain don’t ev’r pass thru, the tears don’t ev’r go away I’ve learned well this one inescapable thing, at the tethered end of ev’ry next day — The sunrise wages saved of ev’ry next day Be anew sunset spirit death of the born-to-be a slave 11-24-20

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 12/11/2020 12:33:00 PM
Hello Chris Green, I felt the pain of the ox. He learned that we do not know when it is our last day. peace, joy, and love. darlene
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Date: 11/25/2020 5:00:00 AM
I could feel the angst and the deep emotion into this one as your traveled back into time to feel what your ancestors felt.. We do seem to be going in the right direction now, however, there is still room for so much improvement..
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Date: 11/25/2020 4:44:00 AM
Thanks, my PSoup gals and pals for taking the time to read this poem (which is very dear to me.) This poem is really about putting my myself in the shoes of my ancestors. This is my personal insight on what it was like to live a slave life. I know I bring up issues that make some people uncomfortable ... but, it has always been uncomfortable being black in America. Ev'ryone have a blessed holiday. Love and more love always — Romantic Warrior
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Date: 11/24/2020 5:15:00 PM
“Only rebel speak when you are alone” - you had wise parents Freddie!
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Date: 11/24/2020 1:12:00 PM
I fell this is a sad poem very deep in meaning. Life is never easy. ~~
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Book: Shattered Sighs