Real life experience. I had to wrestle with myself. I want to, I want us to - to come out victorious if this shall be God's plan.
Fear of Black Love? Or Welcome to My Black Heart?
It’s easier to just say Welcome!
Welcome to my black heart.
Where my vessels stay well oiled
And Conditioned with unrequited love.
Love that ain’t right and
Men who have put their mouths on me.
Begging me, beckoning me for
My physical presents.
And ignoring the beauty
Of my physical presence.
Enter my Black King.
Excuse me! But my red carpet
Just ain’t clean.
Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.
But, I welcome you to my Queendome anyway.
You gone be alright?
‘Cause I still want you.
But just know you will take
My garbage too.
My chipped heart, wilted promises
Stinky self-esteem, and smelly
Man bashing ways….
Yeah, My Black King…
I love you but I fear you all the same.
© 2009 C. Thomas a.k.a. brownsugatou
Your poetry remind of another excellent black poet: Wanda Coleman. Like you, she speaks of cold, down-to-earth realities of black women, especially black women in the inner-cities.
Profound. Maybe, after I finish the series I'm doing on people in crisis, you will allow me post 3 of your poems on my blog and let my readers know about your blog. Let me know if that's doable. Blessings.