Read my poetry? Share it?
I don't know if I could.
A piece of me goes into everything I write....
Especially every poem;
(Although the good Lord knows I have many pieces to spare.)
Going out on that limb is chancey;
What if someone has a mind to lop it off?
Salley Hennings, Slave/Mistress of Thomas Jefferson
Mr. Tom, he say this Paris is beautiful as me.
I see Paris as a place to be free.
Silks and lace and frills on my back,
Fine furniture he give to fill my shck don't mean nothing.
He acts like he don't know what freedom means;
He wrote that be everbody's dream.
I'm part of that 'everybody' he talks about.
Like the name excuses
to use me as he wants.
"I'm staying here where talk is strange", I say.
He say, "You come back I set Jacob free."
My brother will have his freedom 'stead of me.
Slavery fits too tighter after freedom.
Mister Tom slips to my cabin each night.
In the dark I think of Jacob in the light,
Owning himself and doing as he will.
I close my eyes and remember.
Sunday, November 26, 2017
Mad Poets Society interviewed me and the video has been stored on Youtube.
It's been broken down into five parts.
Check it out:
Books For Sale!