Poems

Come, Time

Posted on by A. Long

Come,

time to put away childish things

emotions strewn about the floor

pick em up

shove em into your toy chest

let them rest away

where those who won’t break them

will scoop them up to play

by A. Long

–from “Medusa”

Posted on by A. Long

Dammit, Athena, take away my father’s gold. Send me away

to live with lepers. Give me a pimple or two.

But my face. To have men never again be able to gaze

at my face, growing stupid in anticipation

of that first touch, how can any woman live like that?

How will I be able to watch their warm bodies

turn to rock when their only sin was desiring me?

All they want is to see me sweat. They just want

to touch my face and run their fingers through my…

my hair

is it moving?

By Patricia Smith

Going Back

Posted on by A. Long

I am going back to her

to compare battle scars and sip

double dipped hot chocolate

To rekindle her light

I’m going back to her

yellow princess dresses

black boots, made for stomping

when she was all kinky tresses

To her questions, wonder, and guesses

To when she loved without  prejudice

before any man had come between us

Labels

Posted on by A. Long

give me definition

make me a label

something that molds to fit

tailor suited

call me a feminist

an artist

blackness

thickness

beauty

stereotype me into neatness

shape me

like men’s beards and pubic hairs

Go ahead and tell me exactly who I am

what womanhood I carry

who I should desire to marry, if at all

Look me up and down

and sideways

and frontways

and backways

and longways

until you figure me out

smooth out my rough edges with conviction

Tell the masses you have unlocked the answer

untangle the morass of lies

from those who despise

the vibe off of my vehement pride

whittle some feeble

words that encompass me

hold me in bondage

paint me into a corner

then apply turpentine

to erase every line

that gave me form

because I am without one, like

molecule or matter or breeze

jacoa beans dipped in steam

I am the slip

and putty and change up

in your bloodstream

on the concrete after the rally

And you have yet

And you have yet

And you have yet

to call me by my name

because you know I will answer

 

 

 

Soul Search

Posted on by A. Long

why do you let them?

come and leave?

like them and

love you, too?

what is the reason

behind settling for

sticks and stones?

for dimming your glow?

how come half their heart

is good enough for all or

your soul?

you bend back and break

bones for themin your home–

and yet they are allowed to stay

and make a mess of you.

why do you let them?

by Alex Elle

To August

Posted on by A. Long

Tumbling down

a leaf as i leave you

with smokey memories and warm nights

I guess the Fall came fast enough

but there were days that stagnated

i needed

Reading the signs of change

like clasped hands cluctching knuckle skin

so long summer

catching weedles in the weeds 

stinging needles from fat rains

immaturities

brown eyed honesty

i guess we both knew the end would 

come for us

always,

always and never.