"Momma's Worry" by TS Hawkins

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For 2010

[a poem for the sycophant no longer in my life]

suddenly|opened eyes never heard clearer words|damning the feet for not fleeing sooner|a death rattle would hum more sweetly


a BLACK journey...

[my portion of a collaboration poem with Angela Cole regarding black hair! UPDATED 1.26.11]

...new growth...
beginning to overstand that the slave trade traded more than our spirits
spreading lyes
the KY laying hands on rooted epic memories
a cotton pickin' remembrance ironed flat
lining plantation death strokes
combing ancestry between gritted teeth of no return
how quickly we sell out to the dreams of westernized forefathers
wishing our mammies flatbacked closer together
creating a lineage for the greater good...hair
mane hiding the main attributes that make being of color a delicacy
so we settle
settle for the taste of American badlands that highlight streaks of Indian wet nurses
just to say "their in my family"
cover Cecily plats with lace-front lies
because Chi irons were afraid to cross the Mason Dixon
of your natural segregation
bucked wheat never felt more freeing standing beside ebony striations
pretending to hold glory and honor
but since I was never taught that my locs were royal
I jester my soul to the commonplace
salon my heritage in open ended press n curls
looking for change in purse string bottoms
tipping the stylist to uproot my name
the moment I believed
straight was pretty


The Aftermath of Freedom

[ a "what did it all really mean" poem]

of events
where perseverance and small bouts of mediocrity are accepted
most times deferred via procrastination
and manipulation
is this what King envisioned at the mountain top?

For 2009

[a "I'm not an experiment" poem]

catastrophe leaking regrets between index and middle
concluding you reek of rancid trial and error foreplay ideologies
spewing sweet grandeur  glazed in halogen halitosis
generating nightmares when liqoured brimmed mouth flaps
masquerading as courage
open to ingrain
embed romantic fabrications
divoting fallacies
so when chest clutches for serenitized seconds
brailed fragments regale tales that wish to be forgotten
societal whipping boy
emotional sodomized toy
a wonder fucked game piece
unaware it was a pawn



[a free write assignment I gave the students during my workshop at Health Opportunities High School in the Bronx. The poem had to consist of the following words: Chicken, Lick, Versatility, Magic, Boot and Flag! Here was the best I came up with...LOL!]

I don't eat chicken
but everything about you is finger licking good
want to swoon in your unabashed aqueous solution
stir your magic inside the deoxyribose of my mind
mount your flag in my divot-ed third eye
rock me to the beat of your majesty
as we boot knock
making 80's smooth grooves wish it carried our tambour
the versatility of this bedroom lullaby
has sex wishing it could hold a candle
to the flaming wick of foreplays beginnings


For 2003

[a closure poem]

loved/with everything "peace of mind" had to offer/tourniquetly enraptured/in you/for you/over time you/became turncoat/left me broke/heart adorning the radiator/emotional hellfire/loneliness never felt more soothing


Because Of Love

[a late night "thinking of you" poem]

nocturnal emissions
secrete[ly] spell our names in the sands of time
eros never vibrated so tenderly...

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