Ode to the asshole

We all gathered. Gathering meant an event. It meant some possible specks of different on our grey lives.

And so we gathered.

And I was summoned.

I feared they might not understand. This reason for rage, this apparent loathing for the creation and existence of another- much like me? I thought not.

 

This is my ode to the asshole!

The one who makes promises he cannot keep.

The one who expects to receive always and is never satisfied with what is good.

The one who already has perfect but will trade it in for used- often.

The one who almost always has allergies for the truth, faith, trust and honesty.

Whose ego is blinding and ignorant. And often unnecessary.

 

This is my ode to the asshole!

Who has taken and taken but is yet to pay his credit.

Who has preyed on the “sweet and innocent” for far too long.

Who has learned to speak in forms of pick-up lines and cheesy romance novels.

Who expects chocolates and roses to be the only expectation.

Who has grown to believe that “easy” is the norm and the new religion.

 

This is my ode to the asshole!

Who lurks behind the shadows of misplaced “daddy issues” and a never-present Mother.

Whose hands are always waiting to slither between warm thighs.

Whose belief in chastity and self preservation have been lost in the passion of a poorly punctuated r n’ b song.

Who is always ready for the laying down, the getting in and the coming but somehow unavailable for the diaper changes and utility bills.

Who will fool you too often and break your heart too soon.

 

This is to the asshole!

 

 

 

 

 

The forgotten

The young boy who silently witnessed his mothers slaughter-

He sits at the edge of my bed and wails a most dreadful wail.

Their voices pierce through my borrowed peace.

Those lost children hovering, those motherless and fatherless.

They will seek revenge, this they have promised.

And the childless?

I saw the seeds of vengeance sprouting through the heart of one woman-

her infant torched before her eyes.

The father helpless to the greedy and violent lust over his beloved daughter-

He sits in the far corner, muttering the words of Socrates and Soyinka.  

They seek me in the spirits of many midnights  to open their heavy packages of sorrow-

The horrors their eyes have seen but their heart can never comprehend.

Their belief is that they are the forgotten peoples of a once great but crumbling nation.

Their haunted eyes, I wish I could erase-

But I cannot. 

Unlocking Facets

I wish you would allow yourself to see me,
For all that I am.
I am the prayers of many who now lie still, the pains of a woman whose dreams she has washed and cried away.
I am the joy of transformation, the new age.
Can’t you see?
I live and love for many.
The tears cried before the beginning ripple in my heart.
If only you could fathom this, accepting the many facets that could make me yours.
These facets I cannot reject nor refuse, for they make me all you see.
All I ask is that you let your mind comprehend the possibilities of the beauty this could create.
Cease from closing your mind to this beauty and just let it be beautiful.
Unlock these facets and love me whole.

The unlearning process

My child, I speak these words to you not by a wisdom I have always known but of one, which I am still learning. May your path be different from my own, I pray this.

This costume of blackness, of browness, of color, should not define you.

 

Unlearn the lessons of your forefathers.

Yes, remember the lessons of the Kings, the Woodsons, and the Mandela’s but unlearn them.

Let each day be an opportunity to let the sun paint you a new history.

 

The blood and the pain of your ancestors is neither your present nor your future. Unlearn it.

Those battles have been fought and I urge you, my beautiful child of color to find your own battle.

 

And your battle may be the most difficult one yet.

To learn to love the very essence of our pain. The very essence that is ours, the essence that is blackness.

 

Yes, dear child, your battle is not an easy one but I urge you to pick up your weapons of self-love, self-appreciation, respect and dignity.

The process of unlearning will be painful but it must begin now.

 

It must begin with you.