POEM- Black Mother: The Blacksmith

According to croberts5…

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Black Mother: The Blacksmith

Humanity; your first-born child
Every dynasty; a different dilation
Every pyramid; a palpitation
How strong you must have been, to be pregnant with civilization?
Black mother, you know a thing or two about creation.

His story didn’t begin until you gave birth to it.
Black mother you are the genesis of every ebony embryo on this earth.

It is in your womb where you adorned me with an external reflection of you
Hue plus man
Black mother I am, because of you.

The first place I ever called home
Was the stomach of the strongest person I’ve ever known
I her sword, and she my stone
Built me Excalibur.
My mama gave me this
Melinated chainmail protecting my soul
I been rockin’ this obsidian suit of armor
Since I was 0 years old.
Laced with a breastplate that bends the blades of oppression
You forged metal in my mind
Allowing me to turn
My ideas into harpoons
My thoughts into spears
My hopes into axes
I make mince meat out of fear
Because you built me this way.
But death in this world envies your children like a scorned lover
So I know it can be hard to keep the faith.
Being monogamous with life is a relationship status many of your children
Are unable to state
Cities turned cemeteries
Streets turned burial grounds
Blocks turned coffins
You out here raising babies on Death Row
Black mother, I know.

But we still need you here
Cause hope springs eternal from this asphalt
Beautiful things still happen here
And beautiful people too.
The dreams of your children are geysers waiting to be activated by you.
Sometimes it may seem impossible
Black mother, I know.

But you cannot let death win
When it is because of you that life is so.
Black mother, you showered me with artillery of knowledge and guile

I can see the horn of Africa in the curvature of your smile
Her ivory treasures are rediscovered everytime you speak
There is Kemetic sheet music lining the soles of your feet
You rebuild the pyramids everytime your heart beats.
And I am your son.
And if I can make you proud, that will be the best thing I’ve ever done
Black mother.

I was created to change the world
And raised to know I could
Any strength I may appear to have
Is rooted in your belief that I would.
I learned that family is an action word from you
Something you have to do.
You are enhancing the fabric of the family everyday in everything that you do
Black mother, you’ve quilted us paths to freedom for centuries, this is nothing new.

I see you.
Beautiful.
I see you.
Proud.
I see you.
Whole.
Everything this world says you are not.
Black mothers, I see you.

Picking us up
Putting us back together again
Helping us find our way.
Ida, I remember you picking us up when they hung us to fall
Isis, I remember you putting him back together again when he found himself broken
Harriet, I remember
Through the shrouded mist of enslavement, you helping us find our way
Black mothers, you’ve always helped us find our way

Mom, you’ve always helped me find my way.
Every word in every language can’t begin to express what I want to say
So consider my life a thank you letter
That I am writing you everyday.