The stench of shame fills the air
Tears fallen choked her words
Laying in a pool of red
Her massa had stolen her innocence
Bruises decorated her already scarred flesh
A mark of ownership
A sinister smirk sends shivers
As the white man admires his coloured canvas
Pride engulfs him
Watching her struggle against the shackles
Her screams silenced by his hands around her neck
As he brutally ravages her again and again
He whips his initials onto her untouched back
As a reminder that he also owns her flesh
She had no autonomy left
Her insides felt dirty, poisoned by the white man's lack of mercy
With every violation her grip on hope was slipping
Until she fell into a numbness unending
A shell of who she was
She was forced into a life of silence
Held captive by the punishment of violence
That day a lesson was taught on how to live a life on mute
Rest was a luxury black people weren't granted
Something we wanted
But couldn't afford it
Our survival was more important
Constantly looking over our shoulder
Wondering whilst we're walking
If this is our last moment
Internally we ask
Are we going to be murdered ?
This for us is a daily burden
Being tired is a privilege we don't get
We can feel tired
But we are not allowed to show it
Society deems our feelings to be unimportant
Because apparently black people are not allowed to be vulnerable
We are either seen as too aggressive or too emotional
But rest is something that we've earned
Something we deserve
Something we've come to learn
Is that we are not burdens
And our need for rest
Is not a weakness
And the most important thing is we put us And our families first
And that we won't be the world's carers
Anymore
Different luminosities don't characterize her. She's
A force to be reckoned with, Let's count the ways:
Brainy, Brilliant
Loveable, Lover
Adept, Artful
Classy, Competent
Keen, Knowledgeable
Whimsical, Witty
Observant, Out of the World
Magical, Mystic
Artistic, Always
Noble, Nurturable
The black woman is God
In the unpolished settlement of Kachikau,
I longed to catch a glimpse of God somehow,
Through Christian films and pages of a book,
I searched for signs in every nook,
In people's hearts and rituals devout,
I sought to find what it's all about.
But now, I see God in vibrant hue,
Cloaked in the colors of life anew,
A black woman, divine and true,
Whose shadow nurtured me and grew,
Bathing me in love's pure light,
Washing away the world's dark blight.
With gentle hands and fearless might,
She stood to fight for what is right,
In the face of struggle and strife,
She taught me the essence of life,
Through trials of servitude and slavery,
She shaped me with her wisdom savory.
In her precepts, I found my way,
To honor the God she is each day,
So, forevermore, I see God's grace,
In the black woman's radiant face,
A divine presence, strong and free,
In her, I see God eternally.
Author Dana Redricks
November 5, 2024
You're a strong black woman, who’s had her share of disappointments and pain, but you never let it make you bitter; instead, you turned it into gain.
Through every trial and test, you rise higher to face every test, never staying down, each challenge only made you better, polishing your crown.
You hustle for everything you've got, with grit and fierce pride, in every step you take, with strength and grace by your side. In a world that often tries to bend, you stand unbroken, you stand tall, a testament to resilience, the beauty of it all.
Your heart holds stories of struggle, but also of endless hope, in the tapestry of your life, every thread helps you cope. So here’s to you, a woman of immense power and grace, in your journey and your triumphs, you inspire and amaze.
He forgot our roots, from where those women came,
Raised by resilient black women, breaking trauma's claim.
Not a black , I stand as a black woman, strong,
In the absence of your father, I've learned to belong.
Speaking of black pussy, don't reduce us to disdain,
My essence, an ocean's scent, a heritage to maintain.
Hating black women, misguided and unkind,
My body, not your rehabilitation center to find.
In the tapestry of resilience, my story unfolds,
A symphony of strength, in the narrative it holds.
To understand, you must listen, not condemn,
My black pussy, a sanctuary, not built for them.
In the echoes of silence, I rise above,
A black woman, not defined by others' love.
My worth, my power, not for rehabilitation,
For in my own essence, I find restoration.
Don’t try to put a label on me,
I am someone’s child and I am free.
I am not girl or child,
I am not a truant neither am I wild.
I have my own identity as a proud Black woman,
I am beautiful, special and I am strong.
I am not good for nothing or will I be worthless,
Feed my mind with positive thoughts so I can be empowered like the rest.
There are greater heights that I can reach tomorrow,
Help to build my self esteem not burden me with sorrow.
I am not less than any other person that you see,
I am who I am and I can be whatever I want to be.
Take the shackles off my feet and mind,
Help me to rise up and my rightful place find.
It is not about where I am from but where I want to go,
Who I will be years from now you will never know,
So don’t try to put me down like my life doesn’t matter,
I can soar to the top like you or even further.
Feed me with positive thoughts that can help me rise,
Tell me what it takes to achieve my goals instead of all these lies.
Show me the way so I can truly understand that we can be the same,
Call me dreamer ,better yet ,just call me by my name.
~ Mary Fields…
Was born into slavery somewhere back east
she thought it was Hickman County, Tennessee
Growing up, she had learned how to read and write
though she'd spent her childhood in captivity
Came to Montana to live life as a nun
but learned she was better suited for fight'n
She stood six foot tall and weighed two hundred pounds
wore a six shooter she could draw fast as light'n
She had arms and hands looked like battering rams
she towered o'er most cowboys here in the west
She smoked cigars and chawed a tobacco plug
a flask of whisky hidden under her dress
She came to fame one day when a green cowpoke
said that no black woman could be his better
She'd laid him out flat when he went for his gun
Mary shot him before he could clear leather
In her left hand she could hold the reigns of six
of the orneriest horses you'd ever knew
while shooting a shotgun with the other hand
and could still keep them horses a runnin' smooth
She'd out shoot, out fight and out drink any man
Was mean, stubborn, cantankerous and scary
Specially if you was a meaning to steal
from a wagon driven by Stagecoach Mary
\Poor Blessed belle black!
always domestic, servant!
Why never free...!!!
PS first poem in a series about blackness and slavery, mainly from the history of Brazil, so repeated around...
alkas
Oh black woman
Your ebony dark skin is a rival to other tribes
Your face, defined and jealousy protected like a pirates treasure
Your skin, scented with perfume like no other
Oh black woman
Men fall drooling when you away your hips to the drums
Or when you walk carrying water from the steam
Your smile is as captivating as the sunset
Oh black woman
The sun itself stirs jealousy of your shining white teeth
The moon acknowledges your beauty
You were made by God with captivating patience
Oh black woman
all those who said eyes on you say that truly you are fearfully and wonderfully made.
My black woman
everytime i see your face,
it reminds me of your birth.
of how your mother held you gently like Jesus held his disciples.
i believe black is not a sin.
it is a desire when our mouths refuse to express.
my black woman.
naked your soul and let us ride to the shores of cestos.
where our bodies find peace in these wet sands.
where i hold you like an even number/ this means you are mine without remainder.
in this new garden of eden.
as adam unfolded himself to eve.
i want to give my body to you as a living sacrifice.
break me into pieces of nice cakes & tell me how it feels to be born black.
damn! i want to see what's hidden in your head-tie.
your face/ a magic mirror of joy hanging in my bedroom.
your lips/ two skins i am craving to roll my saliva upon.
my black woman,
if you ask me to paint a picture of you.
i will draw another monalisa like Leonardo did/
i will paint you without scars/ & say you are just too enough to be painted into pictures.
An exquisite detail of Ebony
Brown, like gold like dust, this human chassis
The beauty of melanin
Sits proudly on her iris.
She spreads, ogling at the sun
Delightfully
Like it's fiery, spells fun
She stares with lips lurching seductively.
Her existence is nobody's stranger
Like the biblical raven in sky
She has dwelled much longer
Than men learnt to see with both eye.
In between
Her beautiful world
In between, I wish to be seen
Sharing in her royal blood.
Xanthous x-ray xerox Xanadu xylems
Xenial Xanthene Xanthelasma xeroxes Xena
Look at her and I stare
while wondering she's so rare;
Something resonating in her hair
Glory
This is her story
Glorious beautiful black woman
Holy
Something shouts out at her;
residing within her pose since she's been a girl;
while wondering she's so rare;
Something resonating in her hair
Glory
This is her story
Something shouts out of her soul, her mouth-voice
A heart of God, she's one of His daughters;
thank-you Father for creating her;
For she is just one of your special joys;
Glorious beautiful black woman
Holy
2/2/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
"Color of your skins
blue, brown, tan, black
Black woman hue
The color of your heart so pure
The color of your eyes brown hew
The color of your mind white so pure
You have the mind of Christ
You be you’re so ever kind so nice
Black woman hue
Mother of the earth
Black woman nurturer
Black woman child of peace
Black woman so sweet
I love the wave of your natural hair
O’ so I do often care
I am here in love of your spiritual hue
Black woman I love you"
1/20/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
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