American Me

People will move on with their lives.

They will not remember them tomorrow.

Business as usual.

Until it becomes unusual.


If it were you?

You would care more.

You would stop selling yourself short.

You would think to do better.

Of thee I sing.

America is not America.

Without the presence of its history.





With cameras flashing.

Taking down the suspicious.

Taking with it old religion.

Are you your brothers keeper?

Your sisters?

While Mister talks his talk of…

Making America Great Again.

I will not say his name.

Speak in vain.

In my veins.

The blood of Black slaves.

I am Maroon.

Native without sovereignty.

Next of kin to white immigrants.

Imaginary liberation.

Frustrated by the stagnation.

Of people held hostage to sullen memories.

To the matrimony of demise.

My country tis of thee.

Sweet land of liberty.

She is the stolen Eve.

Misogynistic powers evolve into nothingness.

Sweat and guile.

Pollution for miles long.

Same ole song.

My grandpa used to sing.

Filled with pride.

A soldiers cry.

A war of no more.

He thought he was free.

Free to use his freedom.

To teach me how to maintain mines.

To expand my family.

To execute a legitimate state of authority.

I can discipline myself.

And will.

My one contribution to life is.

That I can give birth.

To people.

To ideas.

To solutions.

And my biggest concern is…

That people will forget.

They will not remember the work.

They will not appropriate the pain.

The transition.

The systems we create.

The sustainability.

The accountability.

The responsibility.

The ability to thrive.

And we will only maintain a reverence.

A reverence to survive.

When survivability is demeaning.

The system is working fine.

Just not for mine.

So when I get old.

When I make 111 years young.

When I outlive the way things are now.

I will be reminded.

Of what was.

And I will be planted.

And I will rise again.

And for generations.

I will take with me.

The members of this freedom.

Trapped inside of a tall tree.

Least they cut me down.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s