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Vee Sherman Poem
In an unkept place beyond anyone's watchful care lay vessels which carried the powerful blood of a forgotten people.
So strong and powerful, their very presence brought fear and panic to an entire race of people who believe dominance is theirs.
Underneath the 'ole' shade tree lay weather beaten slats of wood proof of a cultures existence.
A dark skinned people whose lives were valued less than that old hunting dog licking his colored masters wounds.
No names, memories, or accomplishments nothing at all except dated brittle epitaphs marking their era of life.
Dusty black Hebrew Israelite feet and cracked aged hands lay in those hallowed tombs-their names mattered to no one.
Shoeless black feet trod and stood in places I have never known and will never see yet, their strength is who I am.
Their proof of toiling in cotton fields beneath the scorching sun washing white folks cloths hanging them on the line to dry.
Same precious hands held offspring not their image that suckled the rich milk from the breast of the woman in the unkept dark place.
Let's not forget the shoulders which rocked the weight of misses churin' to sleep as if they were her own.
The unkept places off the beaten path lay the blood of the forgotten dark people.
Copyright © Vee Sherman | Year Posted 2021
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Vee Sherman Poem
How my sight is set toward the East for we be ready to go home-
Call me name Sir for it is written among the oppressed law keepers.
Call my name..the name you give me..one the white folk beat into me.
Forgive me Sir, when I don't answer at first you did call me
whips done gave me a new name even the dawgs respond to-
East, freedom to serve my God who give me life..not take it away.
Liberty say she freedom for all..she freedom only to the white ghosts-
Pale white ghosts bowing down to an image as unholy as themselves.
Who yet seek the one thing they will never have..our inheritence
An inheritence their unholy white ghost cannot provide its image
But I say..
Prepare my brothers, keep alert my sisters keep your churrins close.
The East is calling..WE BE GOING' HOME..
Copyright © Vee Sherman | Year Posted 2021
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Vee Sherman Poem
Our black is Yahuahs definition of beauty..
Not a beauty we must become but the righteous beauty
of our creation.
It's strength not from the clouds but it comes from the
powerful image of our creator.
The brightness of the sun cannot match or outshine the
gift our births have given us.
Standards of beauty..wrongly set by ones who
consider themselves to be the standard.
Understand, we are not constructed from bits and
pieces of any other.
Remove their labeled lies that everything black and dark
is a weak taboo.
When indeed we are the epitome of strength and power.
It is the female melanin that is their very existence.
The more we realize who we are..why we were created
then we will realize our black is..will always be..has
always been beautiful.
~Shalom~
Copyright © Vee Sherman | Year Posted 2023
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Vee Sherman Poem
I cannot love you..the ability to love is not in my sight-
To love you I must first learn what it means to be loved.
I must summon the creator himself who first loved me-
In hopes to embrace you..I must first renew my mind.
For my mind has the ability to procreate what once was-
To love you beyond now means reminiscing about then.
To see you the way you truly are, I must surrender my sight-
It beholds nothing but the many useless broken promises.
I cannot sense your touch for there is intimacy to be found-
Each one meaningless..for I've felt each of them before.
All had their place yet left my hopes and heart broken-
No, I cannot truly love you unless I totally renew my mind.
~Vee~
Copyright © Vee Sherman | Year Posted 2024
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