Black Poetry : Human Pt. 1


Well-Known Member
Dec 19, 2005
I am man
And my body tells a story
It is covered in maps of bullet wounds
Proof that death is ready when we are unprepared
Scared of forgetting, I tattoo feelings
Across backs, chests, and arms
Pierced with those memories of RIP, lost love, or a rapper's image
Stitchings of shattered-glass beginnings
Lay in seams across my forehead
Sores of infidelity will grow eventually
If I ignore that birthmark of truth on my heart
Reality and sin are like rough sex
Leaving scratches on my flesh
Deep lipstick on the collar bone
And bite marks against my neck
I sweat because God makes me nervous sometimes
I have rough palms because
Being a good father is hard sometimes
And I can't keep my balance
When there's so many distractions
Breaking my bones on purpose
So I can confess those same krutches to black women
Like, I had a bad childhood, or my father was never there
I go to work with a nice haircut and a clean shave
Slaved to America as just another *****
I carry scars on my back that weigh 400 years
And when my eyes bleed tears
I can feel my ancestors water the burns on my skin
Sprouting me into gold when all they picked was cotton
Black men, an indestructible specimen
Where no matter how bad they're stabbed by negative opinions
The blades of life, just can't murder them

Copyright 2008


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