Black History Month. A Poetic Finale
A poem by My Faith Heels author and Dominus Vir contributor "The Godmother" for more inspiration check out Myfaithheels.com
Black History Month or BHM; As we now call it.
Only 150 years of noted freedom of which 90 years ago we chose 7 days to highlight
Negroes who were absent
From books but very present in the lives of a society built on our battered bodies and blood
Bent down but not over
Dr. Carter G. Woodson who was
Black all his life still felt it necessary to choose February which some now call Fab-u- ary
Though some don’t want to discuss the Fabness of us in their vocabulary books rather Facebook-ing statuses instead of Facing Books that status is unworthy of mention… #BHM
Continuing to reduce what we’ve been given watching us fight for our live- in freedom with Jada’s “Pinkett” sign asking Stacy to Dash away from Black unity
you know Rumor has it - Black Girls Chatter
though you say Black Lives Matter and Black Women’s Lives Matter too
After all BHM makes more sense than Black History Month… Right?
We’ve already forgotten Trayvon’s Hood and the Gray lines of Freddy because a million dollars is enough to Garner you from eating Rice and Spam; the junk not on the net
Rather, we fill you with realities you want on TV,
introducing Mrs. Bojangles to move you on up to the Rich Side leaving your pride behind and your sisters too
Truth be told Harriet wasn’t around to come back for you
And, it’s only 28 days to talk about 28 things that maybe 28 Negroes or Negro-ettes did to help America…
Right? The Wrong!
Don’t get caught up in 28 days or 28 ways to minimize “yours and mine’s” history especially knowing we have always mastered taking the little and turning it into much.
