Caribbean black living in white suburbia
Caribbean black isolated
in
Living isolated
in
In white suburbia,
My white neighbor smiles
But not with her eyes
Hides so as not to speak;
I accept
Why?
To be accepted,
To be liked
To be respected
To be liked?
Yet I am rejected,
Sincere smiles, conversations,
Emotive hand-waves saved for
Those who look
Like her
she is safe
Looking further a field
In white suburbia,
My neighborhood much of
The same
White on white smiling genuine
Together
While rosy cheeked babies
In dew-filled suburban sunlight walk by
But me —
I am
Alone
With my black child
On the periphery
Of some silent club, clan
Cult, alienated, clothed in my blackness
In white suburbia
Looking for a better life, a brighter
Future for my family,
Growing cynical feeling weary,
Tired, depressed, repressed
Don’t want to explain
My dreadlocks,
My thick lips, multi-colored hair
barrettes, afro-centric apparel,
Cobalt blue Volkswagen Passat
Just don’t
Want to explain
I understand you , try to
Understand me
Holding my pain
Told to ignore
Internalized age-old beliefs,
as I cause
People to downcast their eyes
As I walk by, people who clutch handbags when in
Black male presence
Told to ignore ‘It’ when I see
‘It’ when I feel
‘It’
My African-American
Brothers
---and Sisters
Accustomed to,
Desensitized from
They already know
‘It’
Will never change
White friends sympathize
Try to empathize
Try to see my side
But unless they
Feel ‘it’
They can not know
A Caribbean Black
Living isolated in
In white
White suburbia
My white neighbor smiles
But not
Not with
With her eyes
Taken from unpublished work titled "Muse Melodies"
There is a clarity to your expressions of what it is to walk in this world in Black skin that is not at all of the overdone "I am a Black militant poet" variety; not at all.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your work with the world. It brings something fresh and new to the table!!!!