Poetry

pixabay photo

 

By

Renee Drummond-Brown

 

 

 

No More Chains Holding Me

 

 

A secure spot where a slave ‘girlz’ bound to be;

metals ‘bout’ 1 inch thick

AKA

ANCHOR RING

 

Lest we forget ‘Da’

ANKLE RACK

wooden like

a set of stocks,

‘wit’

circular openings in ‘da’ bottom and top blocks.

Hinged at ‘da’ left,

secured ‘ev’r’ so ‘VERY’ tight.

Used to cut ‘dem’ feet off

to punish runaway’s in ‘da’ ‘STEAL’

of ‘dem’ nights!!!

 

‘Da’ racks up, palms on ‘da’ ground,

hoofs axed off. No more!

Northern bound!

 

Around ‘da’ waist

of ‘doe’s’ big boned hips, pad locked

‘BELLY CHAINS’,

ham hocks, cornbread, an’ ‘dem’ greens;

‘da blame

for all o’‘dis’.

 

‘Deeze’ very chains

unto ‘dis’ day,

‘STILL’

‘holdin’ me

ridiculously insane!

 

How could ‘ONE’ forget?

‘Da’ BINDING FIBER;

two shall become one

strip, O’ leather.

On ‘da’ ground, face down, wrapped ‘round’, 3 times.

As in a leash or a whip

as known as ‘Da’ Slave ‘girlz’

equipment!!!

 

Hide and seek

“YOU’RE IT!!!” ‘Da’ BLIND FOLD’s ready now

don’t you take a peek.

Two rounded pieces of felt folded cloth

or  scarf.

‘Jus’ keep ‘dem’ lips exposed, slave ‘girlz’.

WATCH IT NOW

last man out, you ‘otta’ know.

YOU’RE ‘DA’ ONLY PREY AND THE “SWEET THANG” CAUGHT!

 

Shoop ‘de’ shoop

Hula hoop.

BODY CHAIN

five feet long

Loop ‘bout’ ‘da’ neck

and

throat.

You bet.

Security is key

decorated ‘wit’ wooden beads

and O’ ‘dem’

semiprecious stones

attached to ‘da’ chains

leather in all.

Shoop ‘de’ shoop

‘Dats’ why’ze

us

‘colour’ ‘girlz’

can shake our ‘thangs’ and hula hoop.

 

Shoop ‘de’ shoop

Shoop ‘de’ shoop

Shoop ‘de’ shoop

Shoop ‘de’ shoop

Shoop ‘de’ shoop

Shoop ‘de’ shoop

Shoop ‘de’ shoop

 

No More Chains Holding Me

‘Cuz’

‘Imma’ shake my ‘thang’ and hula hoop

till ‘I’z’ free

shoop ‘de’ shoop.

 

 

 

 

 

The Choice is Up to You?

 

 

“When you hear about slavery for 400 years…For 400 years? That sounds like a choice” (Kanye West)

“NO IT DON’T; IT SOUNDS LIKE SIN” (Renee Drummond-Brown)

 

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

designer irons used for our neck, minds’, hands, and our feet;

anchor ring, ankle rack, belly chains, bending fiber, blindfolds and body chains.

Think I’ll go with the anchor ring?

SWEET!

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose which Atlantic Slave Trans we’d ride

when sailing the soft raging seas;

La Amistad’ or Lord Ligonier (either-one, don’t matter) would certainly be

suitable for my ancestors

and me!

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose to leave WEST Africa in 1619,

an’ settle in Virginia’s extravagant

HGTV’s plantation colonies.

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

those wonderful auction blocks to be sold away from

our natural families.

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

stunning surnames and become “made in the USA’s” private property.

Brown suits my family’s name just fine (by me).

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

gods’

which stripped us away from our spirituality

and separate us from the true God of Israel

who was meant to be.

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

losing our unusable mother tongue;

to speak Ebonics so eloquently.

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

being handsomely raped

EVER so “freely.”

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

picking snuggly-cotton sun-up to sun-down;

wage-free.

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

straightening combs, jheri curls, weaves and perms

I’ll stick to B.D.’s invented braids for sure. No; maybe, swag me

some, blondes have more fun, twisty’s.

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

giving our sweet chocolate milk away

to ANY and EVERYBODY’S babies!

What a willing wet-nurse treat???

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

“our Studs”

to produce more babies

for fiscal slavery.

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

improper foods

for our privileged families.

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

no hats, coats, gloves or Cam-shoes

for our pampered spa-polished feet

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

which whips, we prefer be-used,

WHILE being beat.

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

allowed us to choose

which garden of Eden trees

we’d wanted to swing!

 

The Home of the brave and land of the Free

by all means,

allowed us to choose

400 years of tormented pleas.

 

IF,

the Home of the brave and land of their Free

truly allowed us a choice

to be or not to be

enslaved…

Betta by golly wow; without, a shadow of a doubt,

we’d certainly choose 400 more years of delightful “evil-plagued” slavery

while giving it “our” finest praise and shout!

2 THUMBS UP!

 

SLAVERY “WAS NOT” A CHOICE Kanye,

without a shadow of a slaves doubt.

 

Choice

 

noun

 

an act of selecting or making a decision when faced with two or more possibilities.

“the choice between good and evil”

 

synonyms: option, alternative, possible course of action

“you have no other choice”

 

 

 

 

 

He Beat Me

 

 

Massa please!

Done; done all you ask!

I cooked;

red rice and beans.

I cleaned;

scrubbing ‘doze hardwoods. On bended hands and knees!

Polished silverware for ENGLISH crumpets and tea.

Breast-fed those babies;

while calling ‘em Ms. Missy!

Ev’n listened to Mrs. Millies’ warrant-less pleas.

Stayed quiet while raping me.

Got up, an’ attended your ‘chillins needs.

Picked cotton ‘inna field of fleas.

Ev’n watched a 13 year ol’ Negro ‘swang from a tree;

‘screamin “MASSA PLEASE!” (guess, un-lucky).

Pled the blood ‘fo me.

Plead the sinners plea…

Wondered if a Savior or Underground gone ‘eva come ‘fo me?

 

All ‘dats left to do

is get, the lashes that await me

and start all ov’r on ‘morrows journey.

He Beat Me.

 

 

 

 

 

EVERY MAN IS an Island

 

 

Every man is an island

Alone answering for one’s soul

Alone in the grave

Alone in death

Alone in grief

Alone in sin and furies of insanities plea

 

Alone in truths

Alone in lies

Alone in mess

Alone in friction

Alone in bitterness

Alone in cries

Alone in loneliness

 

Alone in the fight

Alone in shame

Alone in the shuffle

Alone in the whys???

Alone in the night

Alone in the game

 

Alone in wealth

Alone in leadership

Alone in the struggle

Alone in growth

Alone in the climb

Alone in poverty

Alone in schizophrenic mind(S)

 

Alone at birth.

 

No man is an island is a brazen lie

at best. But, alone…

One man can change the world

and make a difference!

 

 

 

 

 

Renee Drummond Brown

Renee Drummond-Brown, is an accomplished poetess with experience in creative writing. She is a graduate of Geneva College of Western Pennsylvania. Renee’ is still in pursuit of excellence towards her mark for higher education. She is working on her sixth book and has numerous works published globally which can be seen in cubm.org/news, KWEE Magazine, Leaves of Ink, Raven Cage Poetry and Prose Ezine, Realistic Poetry International, Scarlet Leaf Publishing House, SickLit Magazine, The Metro Gazette Publishing Company, Inc., Tuck, and Whispers Magazine just to name a few. Civil Rights Activist, Ms. Rutha Mae Harris, Original Freedom Singer of the Civil Rights Movement, was responsible for having Drummond-Brown’s very first poem published in the Metro Gazette Publishing Company, Inc., in Albany, GA. Renee’ also has poetry published in several anthologies and honorable mentions to her credit in various writing outlets. Renee’ won and/or placed in several poetry contests globally and her books are eligible for nomination for a Black Book award in Southampton County Virginia. She was Poet of the Month 2017, Winner in the Our Poetry Archives and prestigious Potpourri Poets/Artists Writing Community in the past year. She has even graced the cover of KWEE Magazine in the month of May, 2016. Her love for creative writing is undoubtedly displayed through her very unique style and her work solidifies her as a force to be reckoned with in the literary world of poetry. Renee’ is inspired by non-other than Dr. Maya Angelou, because of her, Renee’ posits “Still I write, I write, and I’ll write!”