Today is a new day and therefore it means a new poem. I wanted to write about whatever was the first thing that came to my mind. It was a little difficult writing with more than one person because they were responding to the same line and so in some places I feel it got out of sync. But I already have a remedy for that the next time. Over all… I am still loving the Twitter Poetry idea.
I got the help of two wonderful gentleman who inspired me to write; OneCann and NotebooKKTatted. What awesome writers they are. I hope that you like. I had a blast. Thanks for reading.
Remembrance by: 2Deep, @OneCann & @notebooKKTatted
Each day is a reminder
that our ancestors would bitch slap us if they knew
that THIS is what they marched for,
sped up their meeting w/ God for
O: tore up their backs with cracks of whips
as a pound of flesh was ripped
so we could keep track of shit that doesn’t matter
N: not too happy that they marched for free dumb niggas
freedom to call women bitches
same mentality with a freedom livin’
Died to read,
hung from the very trees later cut down
to make the books that blacks now refuse to read.
History hung like rappers’ chains
O: gained nothing but the pain of stained pages in neglected chapters
that are forgotten shortly after we’ve been forced to read it
They never told us how they made it to the mountain top,
kept the ingredients to the taste of Birmingham tap water
tucked in the back of buses
N: guarded by only the tired legs of one old woman
who refused to give up her seat
move her feet
or give way to anything but exhaustion
O: her loss caused our gains
as the names of churches went up in flames
while a king sat meditating in balls and chains.
Dreaming of the day when he could stop little black girls
and little white boys
from growing into Niggers and Bigots
who would one day wake up from said dream
N: but til he does his slumbering message resonates in waking lives,
taking lives was never the plan
he always knew he was JUST a man
With JUST a plan
tucked in the conductors back pocket
on the tracks of Amtrak’s predecessor.
Muffled passengers headed to the promised land…again
N: or numbers and digits used 2 calculate the amount of hate in the world
the fate of the world lies in hands only big enough to grasp sadness
Deep below the decibel of the overseer’s ears
Swing low
Sweet Modern Negro
Taste the purpose of why we ate chitterlings & pig’s feet
N: ‘cause anything else was too good for slaves
to the mindset that freedom was worth it
and the fight would never be defeated by death
Strange Fruit never tasted so ripe as it does with remembrance,
wrapped in the season of correction,
standing for something
N: and falling for nothing if not in love with the idea that things could change other than minds and currency
O: now negro spirituals have given way to minstrel shows.
We sell our souls
and never know what we’ve sold it for.
Keep the receipt.
Remember from whence you came
& head towards where you shall go
with the memory of our ancestors sweat,
blood,
tears.
Go forth… and do this in remembrance of them
I think that this poem has a very deep message. A call of truth, I would say. Let us know what you think below. God bless!
~*2Deep*~ Uncensored! 