FOR THE POETS

This is for the poets who didn’t sleep last night
Scrambling in the dark to find a pen to write
That rhyme with
As time went
And half your mind was written down
Just as the sun crept around
The other side
To bring you light
This morning when you still weren’t done
Laying down your fiercest ones
Yet

For those who don’t need therapy
Because writing is your therapy
Aside from how it sets you free
Those words are your best company
Holding you tight
Wiping your tears
Few friends with that power in my few years

Sometimes I get poetic diarrhea
The words just come, stopping the urge would be a
Crime against that floetry
As all the truth pours out of me
And I’m lighter, freer, happy as can be
Words that give me free reign
Saying what I must, I’m releasing pent up pain

Blue, black, red ink
Let them know just what you think
About the evil in their eyes
Atrocities they devise
Or the love they give
All you’ll ever need to live
Besides your words
These nouns, adjectives, verbs
That let them know you were here when you
fly with the birds

For the poets who never told a soul
About that trauma, scars and suffering you hold
inside your pen
Take your time to write it down
and then
Tell a joke that isn’t funny
But don’t go over it again
For fear they might just get it,
In your face, they wanna be your friend
So you tell them it’s just words, it’s just pretend
Poetry’s just a way to transcend
The fake with the real
Another means to heal
Express what you feel
Speak to the world in that rhythmic appeal
Can’t lie from that zone, afraid what you’ll reveal
To those who see with their minds
what you hid between the lines
Although most don’t understand it
poets recognize the kind
of science it requires
to take that artform higher
You couldn’t stop writing if you wanted to
The consequences could be dire.

© 2005 Rukayat Ololade Aliyu

Yaa Asantewaa is…

Is overwhelmed by the joy of my people
Following this victory
And knows it will be even better than this
When the last battle is won
Is holding her breath
Hoping not to be devastated at the disappointment of her people by this blessing
But to exhale the exhale of victory with her people
In eight years
Smiling Black faces
Proud Black faces
Joyful Black spirits
That now feel empowered, beautiful, powerful, blessed, godly even
Who now know an inch of their power
Who now know an inch of their capability
Who now know an inch of their beauty
We are
A beautiful people
A powerful people
A winning people
When we choose to be
My people are a happy people
Rejoicing people
Beautiful people
Spiritual people
Who know that there is a God
Who know hope has a new face today
Hope has a new power
I hope that my people
Will take it upon themselves
To do right
By themselves
To do right
By each other
Being reminded
That there is a God
Who listens to our prayers
As a people
Knowing that the last time
That this many Black people
Were in agreement
Across the globe
We were still being hung
In trees
Let this be evidence
That we can agree
And succeed
Over and over
Let us agree
Again and again
To renew ourselves
To free ourselves

To the freedom fighters
And the sit-in-ers
And the boycott-ers
And the marchers
And the protesters
And the poets
And writers
And actors
And dancers
And soldiers
In every corner
Of the globe
To the apartheid
Genocide
Survivors
Who feel a victory is won
And hug tight one another
And hold on for dear life
For not wanting to wake up from this dream
Your efforts are never in vain
But they make up the first inch of the war
Keep fighting
Keep walking
Keep marching
Keep loving one another
Stop hating one another
Start lifting up one another
And we’ll see victory
After victory
Into eternity

And Now You’re Gone.

The birds don’t stop chirping
they don’t stop singing so gay…
they don’t stop falling in love…

the bees don’t stop pollenizing
to respect our sudden loss
they don’t mourn with me
or help me fling away
the ashes of my burned up
diminished
organs
insides

Ants don’t stop mating
to appease my suffering
they don’t take a day of mourning
to bereave our history
they don’t

they don’t rush to my side
try and cure me
they don’t change their plans
so to reassure me
that there’s more to look forward to
than love songs, pretty flowers
and child-creating
they don’t

“Why do hearts sing and play…
Making love until the break of day…
Why do they fall in love?…”

...the wind doesn't stop touching the leaves in intimate places...

Because when we made love
until the break of day
they knew, they did
they stopped, they did
and took notice, they did

because then
even the mountains knew
even the minute grains of rock that crumble down the mountain side every day
whether we climbed or not
they stopped, they did
and when it was the break of day,
they smiled on their flat sides
for Our
deeper-than-souls connection
made the universe ecstatic
and they resumed their rolling-down-the-mountainside occupation

And now you’re gone
So the universe is not ecstatic
but it cannot stop moving
for our broken hearts
because then,
we may mistake it for understanding
or some form of compassion
and we might think
It will be okay

But even knowing I’ll never love again
the wind doesn’t stop touching the leaves
in intimate places
so that they coyly giggle
and whisper to each other
how nice it felt
when your wind touched my leaves
and made my body
whisper to my soul
how unbelievable
how marvelous it felt
to know
We
had made love
until the break of day.

Welcome

Take this journey through my spirit
May seem chill but you will hear it
Mmmmm
Vibrating
Through you
Chilling the blood in your veins
So that your body hairs stand at attention
Fingering your mind
With insurrection lines
I’m here to share
Completely bare
No secrets between us
Not a care
I’m not stressed
That soon you will know me
Be informed with what He shows me
Just focus, pay attention
Don’t miss the meaning
Behind these lessons
Or you may lose it
Your mind, trying to use it
To follow me through
The cornfield maze
Called life
About which I write
Let’s
Just
Go