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“thank you” by speaks beliefs

thank you

for the gift of shackles

heavy metallic removal of freedom

the addition of your iron ornaments

to my wrists and ankles

was the subtraction from my native land

my home

and the introduction to my new existence

thank you

for the Bible

i was living a life of blasphemy

until you told me the story of Jesus

and how He died for you and prayed for me

showed me the righteous path

preached “your skin is sin.”

i listened to you

and trusted in Him

and repented

and repented

thank you

for my purpose

i awakened before morning star’s appearances

to work in your wicked fields

repeatedly beaten

never esteemed

frequently mistreated

at dusk you allowed me to rest

and under moonlight

i dreamed

about a life that was no longer mine

thank you

for English

i was wise in my native tongue

and became ignorant in yours

you taught me how to be common

with words

i learned to be subservient

and spoke

with bro-ken language

one night, while you were sleeping

i escaped

your gift of “purpose” prepared me

my body was strong

my mind was ready

i did not tire

i did not stop

i ran

and ran

and ran

to freedom’s destination

this place was my gift

to me

and to myself I said,

“thank you.”

*          *          *          *          *

Speaks Beliefs is a poet, a writer and a father.

© Speaks Beliefs, 2010. All rights reserved.

This poem is a part of Soul Portrait Magazine’s “30 Days of Poetry” to celebrate National Poetry Month. If you’d like to participate, please submit a poem.

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“Jungle of Concrete” by Speaks Beliefs

jungle of concrete
where streets meet glass that scrapes sky
beautiful towers piercing through cumulus
contrasted by section eight housing units
busy pavement of the jungle valley
vehicles of mass transit, luxury, and taxi
making connections at intersections
from trip’s inception
to rush hour gridlocked rubbernecking
here, nature is intentional, yet minimal
and postcards promoting city’s skyline
are designed to hide and isolate ghetto behind
here, dreams are encouraged and flourish
and others blurred and deferred, malnourished
here, white collars chase bonus and options of stock
and hustlers holla, chasing fiends, pushing crack rock
and at night, socialites vie for limelight
while others are declined, forced to decide:
“do I pay for lights, or eat tonight?”
where one man’s shine correlates to another man’s plight
beautiful city of bright illuminated lights
where jealous ones envy their neighbor’s station
causing competition, leading to ill gotten gains and sin
here, the successful thrive, while countless others…
struggle to survive
in this beautiful and tragic…
jungle of concrete

*          *          *          *          *

I am more Miles than Mos, yet on most days, the blue notes in my mind are black on both sides. Bebop and Hip Hop combined. My Trane of Black Thought(s) are rooted in sentimental moods, on lazy afternoons. Read more of my work at Speaks Beliefs: Wordplay.

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“Insomnia” by Speaks Beliefs

Speak Beliefs. I am more Miles than Mos, yet on most days, the blue notes in my mind are black on both sides. Bebop and Hip Hop combined. My Trane of Black Thought(s) are rooted in sentimental moods, on lazy afternoons. Read more of my work at Speaks Beliefs: Wordplay.

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