Our Hips

Much homage to our hips hips that did not give in Lipton tea, kool-aid, lemonade was the sin I live in hips stuffed with gin fried pork chops, fried okra proud of the skin I'm in turnip greens with turnips hot water cornbread is the beauty it holds season fried chicken and lima beans fried green tomatoes, cream corn and rice pudding potato fries images of smiles and laughs races of people ancestors proud fried fish, skillet corn bread, and spaghetti mac and cheese, red beans and rice secrets of my babies taken from me and stolen dreams from my past I hold on to broken memories of being misunderstood rumors tease and hold on are no good the ancestors singing the legacy stands with the Lord above holding my hand my hips is the Mississippi river that holds the water down deep that keeps me going my heart pumping from regret holding on tearing me down where the summer kept me from harm my hips taunt freely with grace and pride race of women who could have died while giving birth erased, removed from regret much homage to our hips of sweet nectar that breeds a race of fine men and women babies that add to the family legacy I grasp my hips in solitude of emotions and of pride my ancestors gave before me my hips are grandma's hips mamma hips, auntie's hips great ganma hips, nieces hips cousins hips that say please take it easy don't tease me but please our hips with the Lord blessing us with hips that give birth to a nation