i hope that
Hope can be had again.
for now her birth is bound
- tied
to an electric chair
all for a promise of an election snare
- strapped down
by kindred ropes
Hope swings
with a tilted neck
as wooden rocking chairs
creak a familar hum
the waiting
too quickly numbbed
the aggitation
harmonies corrode the bitter spritual
nothing is sweet
about pungent / incumbent victory
and hopeful voices faded
cuz change is constantly baking
but we have yet
to taste the flavor
i smell the burning of sing-sing souls
that fry
- i cry
for Hope
and she dies
lying motionless
in applauding, blind, hope-less eyes.
crazing timing / summers thoughts
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Womanchild, .know.love.be. Thyself.
- z.bediako
- a womanchild in a land where nothing is promised. my belly births a bundle of sounds. words live inside my head. sometimes they stay there for years. aching to marinate. i await for spices to calm them. saturate them. give them life.taste.rhythm. i share it through sound.words. i write lovepoems & politicalprose. i stay singing. i'm often laughing. and always loving.
I like this piece even though I voted for Obama. I think people are still hopeful, but I agree that people are remaining complacent & black folks are still in the same boat they were in three years ago.
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