My mothers were not
silent
or shy women
they lived
sometimes
alone
on
fishing boats
or
abandon plantations where the land screamed with
the blood
of their fathers, brothers
and leaked like morning dew the tears
of their mothers
my mothers lived
with
ink staining their
dresses and fingertips
testaments to their endless testifying
oh these
boisterous
ladies
making noise
saying
things
women
ought
not say
they were
given
to abandoning
loud places
for quiet
places
where
walls ached
for their
voices
to seal cracks
in their
structure -but sometimes
the places
they occupied collapsed inspite of
their spirits
caulking the holes like
plaster
gurl -
you too loud - lower your voice
and I say
naw,
I aint -
I just like my mothers
you shush
I say what I want
cause my tongue
love freedom
like my legs
hands
and feet
like all of me love
freedom
these women
with ink stained
dresses
and bare cabinets
cause they
did not think
they would
need more
than words
to sustain them
but
they got hungry
too
not for men
but sometimes
not for children
but sometimes
mostly
they
got
cravings
to
make the ground
shake
and eyes to cross
they was
good spirited
women
my mothers
just never
silent
or shy
Resolve
That place
separating
Probable and improbable
The faint negotiating point between tangible and intangible
We manipulate time
In order to rearrange discontent
Move it into another corner of the room like worn furniture
But only temporarily
This year
I will become weightless
Having stepped outside of my skin
Shaking the dust from past lovers from my spirit
Before I reenter
I will wash secrets
From my dreadlocks
Causing memory to blur and time to slow
Resolution
The fragile home of good intentions…"
