Black Girls

Would you like a reading?

The smashing of plates is an allegory

That depicts heartbreak

So let my mind run free as the rubble on the floor

Or as the night, or as my persona

Before society's infection spreads to all my major organs

The cure is simple yet hidden and like the illuminati

The big picture couldn't get any more clear

But fast money and the warmth of pulsating

Pussy walls blur the Polaroid

And fuck necessity for the stroke of want

Though I choose my art over

Most of this bullshit

I'm not oblivious to the fact that

I'm lucky to be a nigga who made it passed the age

Of 18 let alone 21 and every year

After that is indeed epochal no matter how dull

Or how many days I let anxiety leash me

So who's willing to explain this heartbreak

In the form of a story that includes

Metaphors of a messiah sculpted

On the side of pyramid only to be defaced

By the same people who built it

Like the hands that held the shotgun

That was aimed at Malcolm X

By any means necessary?

If it kills me than so be it

I once read about how back in the old days

Of early mormonism black skin was thought to be

A curse from God

And in the present, the mainstream media

Distorts ebony so it's viewed as a

Curse called ugly

Like a face only a mother could love

It seems black girls only have their mother

To instill in them just how beautiful they
Really are

The breaking of televisions was an allegory

That depicts realization

So let my mind run free as the glass on the floor

Or as the night, or as my persona

Before society's infection spreads to all my major organs

©2014 Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved.

Written In Haphazard Fashion for d'Verse Poets Pub

  

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Beer and Cigarettes on his Breath

I remember the times when

I envisioned your face

And it was like looking in a mirror

So in my own reflection

I'd see leech marks left by

All the mistakes you made.

Do you know how fuckin' hard it is

To look like someone whose funeral

You wouldn't even attend? I did

But that was the night before

And so many days of having to

Look for myself in people I

Saw on TV to gain some sort

Of foundation to build the man

I wanted to be.

The last time we were

Face to face, I realized our

Undeniable similarities

Are only skin deep

And without hesitation

The fog was wiped

From the mirror

And I didn't see

you.

©2014 Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved.

*1) Who are you and whom do you love?

2) What else are you, that no one has seen before?

3) Describe a morning you woke without fear.
4) What lingers when all is said and done? Dig deep with Marina Sofia at d'Verse - Poetics 

I picked #3* 

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