Bags of burdens
submitted to watering
all that is beneath me.
-Jg
JustGreylon
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CATEGORY
Bags of burdens
submitted to watering
all that is beneath me.
-Jg
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OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY JustGreylon
Committments
Constantly on top Blooming to break away |
Salvation of a RaceWe used to be the shadows of mankind, silhouettes now come to the light depicting images scanty no more.
An absorbing canvas, how slavery and segregation didn't break our mirrors shattering the vanity's core.
Black empowerment like a jaguar crowned panther because it was made a different print from the anchor.
Reveries dead, we are a movement strong like the bus Rosa parked to minister our color.
-Jg |
Grounded to Stay AfloatGrounded to stay afloat, walking in the shoes that take me through my days above water.
Anchored to swim tough, a melanin boat filled with pride and notions, drifting like the free wind.
Rifting through the blemished layers my past skins flaked away from my pigment.
No remnants in the other side of the mirror, only pillars of my self love spitting the image of me now.
-Jg |
Waste to Want BetterFallen stars against the rain, whimpered wishes watched through the window's pain.
Damage done like the moon maimed, heighlight of life left scathed.
A bosom's trade flashed at a parade of what looks like treasure, til the paint chafes.
Take the mistakes, take the missed takes, eyed things differently and waste the mistakes.
-Jg |
Curb the TearsOld emotions saturated through, left out on the curb like garbage day.
Landfills reak of victory, shirt collars stained, passed over the good will, no longer a good feel on any skin.
Plenty dem, separated from light, too heavy for the wash, like blankets over eyes.
Lighten the load, bargain for nothing with a gouge in price that will sacrifice you. |
Flourishing in WorryBags of burdens submitted to watering all that is beneath me.
-Jg |
My VibesRetrieve my vibes, plateaus to valleys low, the bellows from under me, an ardor from underneath.
Conceive my vibes, the smug faces of relief to see that a scared lion in any pride can crown king.
Receive my vibes, the tithes given respectively, paving back to my roots of Africa's Lilly.
-Jg |
CondemNation
At a hierarchy of times. I'm too black, he's too pink, she crossed the border line; a bunch of deleterious links tagged that shouldn't come from America, and I felt terrible in my fight for the flag.
Most folks are second-class? No one really knows them all, yet labeled and prepared toe tags, their brilliant lights sheathed. Bureaucracies with slick ways, paving graves to hide the condemnation.
Elation cut short of dull blades, an agony that lets the pain rage, placing all ethnic groups in a body cast. Be we a nation that lasts alas without bloodshed, of the flesh and the inner spirit. ... |
Tattered FruitTattered fruit swayed from branches; a Langston law to how dark the past gets.
Lifeless there with blood stained leaves, the roots that supported the tree wretched in extended grief.
Woes fell malefic and watered the seeds, offspring versed the values, love me or leave me. |
What Mama Said
A woman is the water to a seed, attached to the root of a man, clinched to his growth after Mama's rearing.
She is damaged lest it is done, a flawed jewel pristine, and don't place a hand on her! Mama once told me.
Guide the light in her darkest place, like the moon painted on her sorrow. Brush over the blemish, till revealing the masterpiece she is.
Fight for the woman like war raging, escalating triumph for her battle field. A hollow place pending burial of everything against her smoking gun.
Don't place a hand on her!, the woman who is not Mama, but reflects her v... |