imprisoned, age seven
it is frozen
inside a sepia photograph. & i
am forever
its imprisoned child.
the dark brown child
grimacing inside, when the white
photographer demanded
"smile..." this is what
"happy" looked like
at seven. after
my father
brushed & greased my
defiant, black hair
into some semblance of
a part. tied a noose around my neck... &
fashioned from my squirming,
crying, wildness this
upright afro-
american child.
& so...
half-heartedly
slyly, then rebelliously, i
became "him"... this
little brown clown of
robotic assimilation.
posed, frozed in his
best sunday clothes, until
he did not look, or feel
or even smell like me.
"smile..." you little fool
this one's for
prosperity.
One.
© 2006 by L.M.Ross moaningmanblues
13 comments:
Like wow! Very descriptive, very emotional and touching. I feel you!
The silent cry...relative to so many of us...
Nice, and so very beautiful you!
This was really nice....I love your angle at writing this!
Hello dear One. Very lovely and masculine. We black women who used to be black girls have these hair stories...it never occurred to me that Brothers would have that same deal. But I guess so.
hey stranger..glad to have found you here again...nice..almost made me get emotional...must be the wine..
What a great poem of that experience. I felt that. And I remembered similar experiences. You're a great poet!
a part. tied a noose around my neck...
& fashioned from my squirming,
crying, wildness this
upright afro-
american child.
Brother the word play is brilliant!
There is so much going on in this one passage!
SO much said in so few words.
Been thinking of you a lot lately :) xx
We all had to start somewhere brother.
Great feeling, imagery, and creativity!
I can certainly identify. meories of the youth of a Black male child.
YOU ARE SOMETHING GUY!
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