Wednesday 24 April 2013

''WALKING'' BY ZORA HOWARD

 

 

 

picture taken from:www.thestriversrow.com

"walking"...Zora Howard








I have a love affair with poetry... I'm a sucker for good words. I've often fallen for guys just because they are articulate and can express themselves well...me and poetry together forever!!!

So I thought I should start a blog...my own poetry corner. Here, I will write some of my best origional work, and then also some of my favourite poems from my favourite poets...feel free to post your poems as well as comments.

The one poem that speaks to me as a woman is by Zora Howard and it's called walking. Tried googling the words but couldn't find them so you all will have to trust my listening abilities... Feel free to correct me where I didn't hear well, the errors will be minimal...but they will be there.

" He meant to say: I never met a lyrical goddess that uses hyphens to prove that, really, God is
I thought Nephrotite was dead and never wanted to believe in queens except for Queen "B's" like lil kim
Who etched the milky way on the small of your back so saturn's ring shake everytime your hips sway?
I watched your walk uprooting the cement and thought: if only for a sec the sun would fingerpaint my face and you'd stop walking towards Mecca,
Lady!!! Image your soul in my direction, I (want to) follow and learn...

But he said: eyo, Ma!!! Don't you know your curves tingle my nerves?
Let me rephrase, you walking from school must mean you got good "brain" and I would like to arrange some "tutoring"

And with his eyes I let him amputate me, (lowered) my chin so when he wished I'd already be on my knees
Promised a quarter plastic rings, he proposes and I squeeze my queendom in one size smaller apple-bottom jeans and then I could really be wifey
He told me God was missing me since I fell from the sky,

And though his metaphor was clever, I could never smile cause every night since I was nine my daddy told me I truly was an angel
Every night he'd sing me flat lullabies, he's make me promise to always walk like a woman did

With the sons of a nation complacent in the crook of your neck
With prayers of pigtail potential up your ribcage like vines
Balance your children's infinities in your hips
And carry divinity in your chin
Try not to trip
Walk hard little angel
He meant even when masses have tied your tounge to your soft palate
And given you a bounty of ebonics, manage to sing
With rythm and blues in your keys, write your own melodies

So I sang the sharp harmonies to my daddy's bedtime stories
But back when we used to hide candy wrappers in jean pockets,
Now we hide condom wrappers and daddy, I'm scared I've forgotten your lyric
Cause every song I sing ends with "shorty"
And everytime I walk someone calls "shorty"
We used to sip cherry pop, now we count cherries popped
Our skin doesn't shine like the moon but every shooting star we've ever wished upon ends on our laps
We used to count ourselves as daughters of eve but I figure we must be a generation of apple-tree serpents cause everytime I walk someone wants to psssss at me...
"Yo mommy", "yo baby"
Your mommies, your babies...

If you lifted your eyes from her face maybe you'd see your sister in her face, and hear her heart trying to break free...I'm still walking
Cause I promised my daddy I'd never rest , he said "woman, walk hard" and I've been walking ever since,
My feet aren't clean
I've got corns for every corner I've ever been called pretty
My soles are calloused for every step after that before he told me: he was only kidding but does believe he has a bright future in my jeans...when I say my soul is calloused!!!

So I'm asking my daddy to re-teach me those lyrics,
And to every ten year-olds on this street that still hop scotch but suck more than butter-scotch
- I implore you
Teach them back to these little boys that play with rubber toys that teach them how to be soldiers, but never how to be fathers
Bullet proof vests and finger stuck in their jeans, that teach them how to be gangsters so they don't find time to dream
Teach them how to ice swollen wombs where infants of dry placentas tug at women who can not give any longer
I wanna learn back the words to that song "her body is sacred and his mind is stronger"
But I can't teach you how to say it...I'm too busy Walking!!!

Shooooo, that was long!!! But writting it just gave me goosebumps.
This woman is a great writer, hope you enjoy it. And check the vid out on you-tube

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