Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Felt the need to post this again!

Will you.....

I watch the many faces of my sistahs.
The look of pain, betrayel, abandonment;
all of that tattooed permanently
on their faces but not by choice.

I watch the attitudes of my sistahs.
This is their armor, their skin.
Fuck putting on foundation,
attitude is their makeup
but not by choice.

I watch the swagga of my sistahs.
You can't buy that shit from Walmart
or Abercrombie & Fitch!

Their curves sway rhythmically to their own music.
And yet you still do not notice,
is this your choice?
To leave us to raise your children
while you parade the 'prize' around the hood
where we once greased and braided your hair,
where we played hide go get it,
smoked a blunt and drunk our red kool-aid
out of the pickle jars until the street lights came on?

Are you that disconnected with yourselves?
Afraid of looking at us directly in the face
because you will only and always see the
reflections of yourself?

They are not band-aids that will cover up
the burden of carrying the world on your shoulders.
Only we can lighten that load.
Only we can help lift you, love you, relate to you,
and help fulfill your destiny of being the Kings you
all are suppose to be!

Sit down with us and chop it up a lil'.
Reconnect with us, love us!
Will you make that your choice?

Dorothy Allison's Bastard out of Carolina

A woman in authority; maternal tenderness or affection. I put this because I wanted my readers, including myself, to know the universal meaning of what a mother, no excuse me, mama (any woman can be a mother but it takes a real warrior to be a mama) means. A mama has a passionate, almost obsessive love for her children. She's an entrepreneur in the business of love actually. A hustla like no other. Whatever is needed there is will be no moral code anymore, she will get it with her shoulders held back and head held so high and she will dare anybody to question her motives. She projects better than any army a country can conjure up. She will guide them with a wisdom that her ancestors has cloaked her with. Can I call myself a mama? Honestly I wrestle with that question everyday. Maybe when I'm old in my rocking chair I will have the answer.

The reason I went into that mode is because I just read this book and I needed to write my feelings on it and motherhood while my emotions were still raw.

I didn't expect this story to be this way, especially how it ended. Allison created a family so real, so unorthodoxed that literally you feel you were a Boatwright. Experiencing life Ruth Anne tells about her people. Each family member is corky and have more issues than a little bit. She painted the words so vividly with a brush full of black anger that closes your throat and drags you down to that darkness so you feel it too. And for good reason too. Her mother loved Ruth Anne with that love I described earlier, anyone could feel it. But boy did sh make some unimaginable choices! I don't agree with her actions, I don't even hold any sympathy for her. I relate strongly with Ruth Anne.

A love should not by any means be bargained when it involves kids, no matter how much you want that supposed 'good love' Please read this!

Peace and Love