Black Poetry : standing in her section 8 kitchen

romusthepoet

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Nov 21, 2001
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standing in her section 8 kitchen
(30 second mosaic poem)
by romus simpson


god is in love watching her
standing in her section 8 kitchen
first earth hips
he remembers & thumbs a sea of clouds
windows agasp where the sea curtains chant
exhaling the morning breadwork aria
god's memory is rain
hills rise & green in his belly like laughter
luminous warm eye of morning laughter
rinsing clear in the river eddy

god changes the trees from arabic to english
rotates morning in his awesome eye
bathing in a gift of fruit & aqua tile
he forgets who he is
fantasy wide as an august of clear midnights
sends him spinning around the universe in joy

she is tall with soft heels he sees
tall enough to kiss his chest if he willed it
elbows at work polishing the morning drift
her dress is the early tide
god made her while watching the sea come & go
mother sister lover wife
extract of mahogany
island of beautiful silences
eloquent austere hymn

the country pours itself over god's mother eye
he prepares the day linen for each poor preacher
each white shirt she hung on each clothesline
a flag of surrender to the million mile morning sky

& the sky from god a day hung dawning
lean woman fresh in his dawn moves pots like
small ships stirring work in the bay
he watches her make her way
sits in her kitchen now dreaming
one window frames jamaica
the other extending to africa
a prayer & apples for haiti
a bird dances 300 quick steps
god laughs & becomes the bird
in his folly
struggles with a small rock
syncopates his small body then shrills away

sound blooms
comes from a country of night to this beautiful bright place
things have begun
in mali marketplaces have been negotiating for hours
international airspace and yams
fish and foreign policy
tankers full of shoes in the pacific current
a ugandan insurance man shines against the bank windows

& you are god
in the ovation of the rising continent
love this woman for whoever she is to you
even if she is an equatorial dream
a song under a sketch of african trees
the first beautiful woman you saw in grenada
a mother you never had
a neighbor who lived beside you for only a brief time
or part lust naked beneath her morning clothes
hide your hope in her locks under her headwrap
coax the first conversation from her unclear throat
when she is done with things that must be done
cleaning the indefinite face of morning
say something
turn her face to you
now now woman
woman woman
woman
woman
how are u?
 
romusthepoet

:wave: :wave: WELCOME :wave: :wave:

Welcome Mr. Simpson! Such a rare & raw talent you have to put on display here! I simply enjoyed reading & re-reading each line of awesome imagination & wordplay!

Well done poet!!

Hope you enjoy this poetry room, and sure look forward to reading more of this "morning glory" you present!!

One :heart:

N2
 
Welcome ~ Welcome ~ Welcome

:wave: :wave: :wave:

Welcome ~ Wlecome ~ Welcome

RomusThePoet, I am so very honored to have you here. Thankful this day for you and this peace as I stand in my section 8 kitchen.

You do know that you are amongst friends and family, right? So I don't have to say make yourself at home ... but just in case you don't know ... please make yourself at home :)

*koolaid in her section 8 fridge*
 
well well well welcome poet

welcome to da playground of destee's place
face off anyway ya poetic flow let u and put
on a poetic showmy brutha welcomeeeeeee!!!!
:toast: :wave: :wave: :wave: :wave: :wave: :wave: :lol:
sho nuff happy ya here......what away to lay dis piece
down flow head on
 

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