Saturday, July 20, 2013

Day 6: After Consider the Hand, by Aziza Barnes

After Consider the Hand, by Aziza Barnes

Consider a world without mirrors
The loss of a loved one,
Consider the lonesome
The silence
Consider the lack of reflection
Consider the body
Consider the way the space makes you bresthless
Presses agaisnt the chest
Like the hallow end of a promise
like the barrel of a shotgun

Now consider the heart
Its cored out cavaty
Consider the way it must change
How it resists the expectations of life
Consider what it learns to hold
And whether its in your best interest
Consider the hole filled
Left by the ego

Now consider the ocean
The way it clings to the curves of body
Consider the way it pushes a smile to the surface
Consider the scent it leaves on the skin
Consider the reflection
The day self is refound
Without that dear friend,
Consider the lack of limits
A horizon with no end
Consider the ones who tried to throw themselves over an edge that didnt exist
Consider the wave that brought them back
Consider the girl standing on the shore alone
Waiting for the right lights to appear
To gloss over the water
To show her face
An image she had forgotten
It seems so strange
To be ones only true friend

Consider the next step.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Day 5: listen

how it is that i have nothing to say
that iʻve become so accustomed to you reading poems from my silent lips
let you pull the songs out of me
like i need you as my gravity
what have you done to turn my body quiet
make me wanna sit and listen to the world spin
make me wanna save the senses for the sight of you
the scent of your breath

what have you done to me
to make speaking scary
that my only desire left
is to sit
in silence
with your body pressed against my chest
and listen

Day 4: pay attention

I will write a thousand poems for your breath against my chest
None of them will capture
The way my heart lifts itself presses past the diaphragm
Tells me to slow down
Pay attention

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Day 3: Breaking the fast

We take this silence to be self evident
That the body will speak for itself when it must
In the moments between
We will pretend there is no trauma choking voice down
It is choice
An echoed reverb

I have allowed this vocal chord of mine to simmer
For more than a year
Soak itself in the acid tingling at the back of my throat
Until speech was a forgotten protest
An action requiring more passion than I possess

There is a breaking required in the ending of silence
It is the crackle found in the abandoned chords
It is a sting I know too well
The fear of it
Will help keep the quiet
Keep the calm
Scare my body back into its curl
Have me refusing the pen

Terrified of what pain
This uncovering might bring

Sunday, July 14, 2013

2: This Mourning

This morning i wake up stale
skin feeling shades darker than its ever been
i must stand
because i am able
i must stand
unlearn this paralysis
unlearn this still quiet body forced upon me
unlearn the fear
the hate

this morning i wake
because i am able
because i must
because there is no choice
with a brown beating heart
there is no choice
but to live
but to wake
we have not the privilege to be still

Day 1: we begin

Day 1 starts with tears and a complete loss of faith. 

this aint a florida thing
this aint a prosecutor thing
this aint a gun regulation, thing
this is an american thing
the devaluing of black bodies to the point of extinction
we don't need another court to tell us 
its legal to shoot and kill and unarmed black kid

we got the bodies as reminders
the grief still fresh on our skin 
Sean Bell, Oscar Grant, Travon Martin
we did not expect the courts to do you justice
only wished that somehow

our sons would learn to outrun their bullets