Black Poetry : MS. B's First time...(SO SUBLIME!)

msluciousb

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Sep 10, 2001
2,696
5
Kansas City, Missouri
Occupation
Self Employed, Business Consultant
How to tell the story ?
Lets go back in time I was just eleven with lots of things on my mind.
It was the day my Big Momma died...first I didn't believe and then I just cried. Then something unexplainable came to me.
What would I say to Big Momma if she could hear me then...
That is when my journey started ...with one piece of paper
and a Bic ink pen....
I didn't know meters or pentameters I just knew I had to write.
I wrote the words that were in my heart and when I finish I gave a start!:eek: How ? Where ? Did these magical musings come from. And like my Brother Rich I ran for Momma to see.
You see like me with the pen she could always fly free.
Momma read it quietly and then she looked at me, what started
was a twinkle then a tear slipped from her eye.
She put her arms around me and said I was here comfort that day. I didn't know what to say! How could I so young affect her
this way. And when she finished weeping she told me...
My child you have a gift, and other spirits you must lift!
So at Big Momma's Funeral I rose and took the platform
and they lowered the mike ....I began to speak my written
word and people stopped and stared , I wasn't nervous and
neither was I scared...My voice didn't shake and I was feeling
somewhat outside myself!
When I have completed my sharing, and stared back at the people staring....I heard a thunder rise...I looked to see if
a storm had risen as I walked alone back to me seat!
But the thunder that I heard was people clapping their hands
for me... The preacher took the pulpit and he paused and wiped
his eye! He smiled and told me , I hope someone says something
half as beautiful when it's my turn to die.
And the beauty that soared through my soul that day continue to leak out on the page.
I never felt deep pain or anquish that day and I didn't feel real sad. In fact I know my Big Momma was looking down on me and that made me very glad.
I can still hear her whisper to me in that southern drawl she had...
CHILE YOU SOMETHING ELSE!
And now I knew just what.......
Yeah now I know it
I am a Poet!
BJS(C)2003
 

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