Don't go there SIANAARRGH!

It takes a lot of confidence to be this ridiculous.

New Poem: “Pundersons Gardens”

I spent the afternoon at The Forge in Camden at an OutSpoken LDN poetry masterclass facilitated by Raymond Antrobus. This is what came of it.

Where two or more of us gather in her name
We create a congregation.
Do not underestimate the importance of the medicine that is laughter
The healing powers of talking to your sisters
First day of spring
But weeds and scattered leaves are trembling
Darkness is only ever around the corner
Never too far from our peripheral
But over muffins, coffee, and fruit
We stew over thoughts of injustice
And our insecurities
And what it feels like to live the women in us
The cars and outdoor chatter
No longer matter.
Smiling faces and honest eyes
Accompanied by cornrows, afros and dreads
Fill the four walls.
We’ve carved out our own space
Right here in Bethnal Green
We’ve filled our throats and lungs with voices
Our own and those of our ancestors
This urban jungle has now become the greenery of our motherlands
Rich and prosperous
Just like our hips and our wombs
Our parents warn us of juju
But this afternoon we practice black magic
Our chants not in Latin or Yoruba or Xhosa or Krio
Our summoning of the good things
That lay within the hottest parts of the earth’s crust
Are done in borrowed languages
That we reclaim as ours all the same.
Words of resistance and resilience
And mantras of sisterhood
Over orange juice and cinnamon
We speak like flesh and blood
Understanding that we are all we’ve got.
I rest my hands on her knees
She rests her head on the other’s shoulders
Coconut oil, Shea butter, perfume, and strength all mixed together.
In this moment, with my sisters, there is no room for darkness
Nobody comes to snatch the light this time
And with these sisters
Concrete realities are, for a snippet and a slither of a clock, subverted new narratives
Where two or more of us gather in her name
We create a congregation
Somewhere in Bethnal Green black women come together
And love each other.
Doing the work of love in abundance
Doing the work of healing
Defying all that is terrible
And all that is terror-full
Surviving and thriving
Existing regardless.

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This entry was posted on June 20, 2015 by in Poetry and tagged , , , , , .
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