why have you never asked me...about me
do you think I have no emotion and cannot feel pain
why do you assume I’m uneducated and inarticulate
how do you know my worth and that it amounts to nothing
If you thought to ask me
I would tell you this…
I am a black woman
I wear my blackness
like a badge of honour
my blackness is not cosmetic... it’s who I am…
it’s…
my mind...
my soul...
my heart...
my spirit…
my culture
When I look at you
tell me
what do you think
I see
Where I Come From
Is not a matter of geography
more a matter of history
my black history
it began with the
Empire Windrush
a pathway made
by those migrants
for my parents
for my sisters and me
born in England
raised by Jamaican parents
I was enveloped by Jamaica
and from that came
jerk chicken
rice ‘n’ peas
curried mutton
carrot juice…
using
freshly grated carrots
condensed milk
addition of Guinness -
to pack a punch
cakes baked
using molasses
dark sugar
addition of Jamaican rum -
to pack a punch
music and dance
Jamaican stories and sayings
culture and my peers
formed my black identity
I came out of the warmth
out of my comfort
to embrace England’s culture
the way my parents did
to live and survive in England
England was my home
blackness was my identity
at school I asked
if I could learn about black history
I was reprimanded
I wanted to become whole
I was a fraction of someone
I was a fraction of something
much bigger than me
I was born in England
I came from a history
Will I know love
What is this phenomenon
called love
how will I recognise
this… love
will it ever envelope me
are the seeds of love
embedded
within me
and will they ever
come to fruition
am I worthy
of love
will it hurt if I reach out
will it hurt if I fall -
in love
and if I hold it
will it hold me
will it give me strength
will it accept me…
for me
please tell me it won’t ridicule me
or walk away from me
as I grow older
and my flesh loosens
will it still make
love to me
when I am ill
will it care for me
when I make mistakes
will it be forgiving
will love give me
hope…
strength…
joy…
will I feel I’m flying
so high
I’m on cloud ninety – nine
when love hugs me
will it feel like heaven
has just hugged me
when I breathe my
last breath
will I smile
because I
learned what
Love is
I never said I was a lady
I work so hard to keep a good home
I’m really quite proud of my place
I don’t want you to come here now
and throw it all back in my face
cos I will cuss…
I don’t appreciate when
you kick off your boots
and cry “Hey... where’s my dinner?”
don’t you dare push out your chest at me
and say, “well I am the breadwinner”
cos I will cuss…”
Don’t ever think ‘oh she’ll be sweet’
please my brotha…don’t take me for granted
cos I am a woman with feelings
and with the frying pan …
In your head … I will plant it
and I will cuss…
When I’m worried and things get me down
ok… I might say, “Leave me be”
but that won’t give you the right
to run around and say…
“My woman doesn’t understand me!”
cos I will cuss
I’m bringing up my child the best way I can
I’ve worked hard for the things in life
so if you think you can disrespect me
don’t ask me to be your wife!
I never said I was lady … but I am a woman!
Helping Hand
Man to Man
Brotha to Brotha
Woman to Woman
Sista to Sista
Black or white young or old
We each have a story to be told
Your struggles however they manifest
When shared can heal and maybe bless
Don’t be defined by your struggles and pain
Choose life and live …choose life again
The challenges we face are sometimes grim
We can rise above - we can win
Let go of pride – we all need a hand
Don’t be defined by negativity
But say…
I am worthy…I am…I am
Not In My Day
Bwoy suh… dis country different man
dis nation ‘spare de rod an’ spoil de child’
dat cuddah nevah ‘appen inna my day – you must be joking!
when children garn a school
clothes ‘ave to crisp - shoes ‘ave to shine
what a parent says goes - in school they follow the rules
when they come home - they put away their clothes
polish up their shoes for the next day
tek out their books and do their homework
complete their chores then they play
once a week they put on their Sunday best
and learn how to stay on the path of righteousness – oh yes!
the kids of today don’t have not a manners
the other day I went out to draw my pension right
about five yout try block me
you not gonna believe dis
di cheeky midget dem tell me dere’s an entrance fee –
entrance fee my back foot
I guh inna my bag an’ tek
out my holy book
an’ tell dem move out de whey!!!
dem move arrf quicker dan Usain Bolt… uhhum
so anywhoo arrf I go to my Caribbean shop
an’ pick my usual items yuh nuh;
yam an’ green banana
plantain an’ coconut cream
fresh thyme an’ jelly that would be guava
an’ as I leave there is the same group as usual
chattin’ the same kinda foolishness
when they see a girl pass… “Hey sweetness wha’appen”
an the girl jus as foolish - flutterin her false eyelash
before she tell him where to go she say “ar…rite”- stupid cow!
anyway on de way to my butcher fi pick up some mutton
mi si de same foolish man talkin de same foolishness…
”‘whappen pretty
gurl yuh suh sweet
yuh cuddah gimme diabetes”…by now dat man shud on dialysis!
wat kinda man is that fi yuh daughter… my gosh!
I mean de man trousers waist round ‘im bottom… I could barely look
an’ dem call dat fashion
him walkin’ like im foot just come outta plaster
an’ dat you call boyfriend material!
you must be joking!
the youth of today – dem too dyam rude
they don’t want to work - but dem want money
they don’t look after their children – but they won’t put something on ‘the end of it’
sometimes I want a nice walk in the park – I have ganja blowin’ in my face – I get high man it’s not right I’m a God fearing woman – yuh tink these tings coulda ever ‘appen in my day
you must be joking!
Whom Shall I Fear
As a child I would lay and ponder
the meaning of life
my mind would take me to places
of the ‘here and now’ and the ‘ever after’
I surmised that
life was about loving
and being loved
what more could there be
I would sigh and smile…
Until those Sunday morning services
came around - they were SOooo long
we sang of God’s love
everyone clapped to the cheery beat
It all went downhill when
the Preacher started to speak…
“Can I get a witness” he’d shout -
I’d jump
“Can I get a witness -
Hallelujah” he’d scream
I’d jump again
My heart would beat like a drum
I didn’t witness anything
except my sweaty palms
Lord have mercy on poor me
and make my heart be calm
maybe I needed a psalm
I heard the preacher preach
about God’s conditional love
I heard the words hell fire and brimstone
I witnessed women falling
to the floor in the spirit
I didn’t want to feel the spirit myself
It looked way too scary to me
Had this preacher never heard of
‘suffer little children’…
that’s in the bible too
he gave me a toxic dose of the fear of God
with all his hullaballoo
I was scared
I was really scared
Knock- knock- knock at the front door
It was the self-appointed ‘God- police’ squad
checking I was sticking to the rules
wouldn’t even have been so bad -
but we all went to the same primary school
“Right then…
have you listen to any pop music?”
“I have not”
“What’s that shiny stuff on your lips
have you been wearing lip gloss?”
“I have not… I just had some fried chicken”
Remember…
You must not tell lies
You must not wear…
Make up…
Earrings…
Trousers…
Jewellery…
No short clothes…
You must not dance to the devils music”
It took me a while
to believe God’s love
Is unconditional
with him
there is no spirit of fear
my faith and trust was restored long ago
In the loving God I have come to know
THANK YOU
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank Julia G. Fox, BS, MA, TESOL for assisting me in publishing my first book by providing her time and technical support.
Special thanks to my tutor Cathy Whittaker at the Percival Guildhouse in Rugby for all her encouragement, support and teaching.
Thanks also to the 'Journey Into Poetry' group for all their support and invaluable critiques.
Most of all I thank my mom Ruby,
my sisters Doreen and Sonia,
my daughters Nadine and Shanice
and my friends
for their encouragement and for believing in me.
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