FOR HER, THERE ARE NO WORDS
By GR8BLACK1
All Rights Reserved by Author
I see her, this Beautiful, Black, Female work of art -
and with all my heart I want to free her -
from all the mental anguish and pain of watching we . . .
be these little boys as we play with our little toys,
guns, cars, clothes, money, jewelry,
and the rest of our worthless boy joys.
She watches and waits while it's our own people
we continue to destroy and hate -
but in order to free her, I must see her with more than just my eyes,
but with my mind - and I must be kind, with more than just my words,
but with my actions - and I must become that African Man,
with more than just perseverance and inner-searching,
but with the help of the Creator, the same one that made her.
I know I can, I must earn her trust -
because her history has determined that she
has earned the right to be free, and it is my responsibility
to evolve to manhood and see that she lives
with peace, harmony, and prosperity.
I feel her more than I ever thought I could,
because there was a time I never thought I would.
It is not a physical thing, but a spiritual feeling
that comes with listening to my consciousness . . .
and the stress becomes less and less and
because this is just a quest . . . I repeat, this is just a quest to quell
the unruly seed that fuels the unruly need for greed, I cannot rest
until I relieve myself from this mess,
and my mental fights with wrong, become mental rights -
and before long, my mental lights come on and I finally begin to see,
It is only she . . .
This Beautiful, Black, Queen, who can truly make me happy.
I smell her . . . and think of all that is good
as the aroma stopped me right where I stood,
and I began to wish that I could and should be the Best-African-Man-That-I-Can,
at the wedding, at the park, when it's dark, in the light . . .
as long as anyone's in sight, I just smell her . . .
and to her delight, I want to do all that is right,
all day and all night - and there will be no fights,
'cause she'll have the green light and I will follow,
and wish that she'll still call me after last night.
I hope it's today, 'cause I'll be crazy by tomorrow,
'cause when I smell her . . . oooh, I feel so good!
I worship her, because I know without her, there would be no WE . . .
from before Slavery 'till after BET -
There would be no Blues, Bojangles, or tap shoes, no Jazz or Hip-Hop,
no Rap, Missy, Puffy, or Biggie, no Rock-n-Roll, no James Brown, Reggae or Soul,
no R&B, MTV, or Muhammad Ali, no soccer, tennis, or basketball shorts,
'cause there would be no sports . . .
no Malcolm, Martin, and Marcus,
and there would be no History or Ancestors for us,
no Rosa, Harriet, or Fannie,
Black Man, what is it going to take for us to see
that this Beautiful, Black, Woman in our midst is responsible for
everything that is . . . has been . . . and will ever be . . .
because, here on Earth -
The true representation of the Creator . . .
It Is She.
When I hold her, there is a feeling of numbness, followed by
warmth, passion, and dumbness . . .
Because I know I have become less than
my Ancestors definition of a true African Man . . .
One who makes a stand and takes control of himself,
embraces Africa, and puts that european bullshit on the shelf,
builds a family on a foundation of morals, values, and principles
that are never compromised, pays no attention to those who ridicule and criticize,
forever strives to become more conscious and wise -
Instructs young Queens and Kings that with knowledge of self,
precious goals and dreams can be realized -
Defines his own wants, needs, and desires,
creates his own businesses, and it's his family,
including those that look like, and support him, he hires . . .
Yes, a true African Man passes the test, the knowledge, and all his best -
down to the next generation, so that once he retires,
the family's quality of life continues to rise higher and higher,
and so on, and so on, and so on . . .
And so as I attempt to put into practice what has been said,
I repeat this knowledge over and over again in my head . . .
so that when again, I hold her . . .
I Feel Complete.
I will protect her Until The Death . . .
Until long after I take my final breath -
and yes, this implies until there are no more compromises,
blue skies sunrises or surprises,
no birds, bees, or trees -
Until the lies, the lust, the limelight, and the lawsuit loot is gone -
Until there are no more sad songs, and lovin' her is right and not wrong -
Until all oceans and seas become sand and dry land,
and just remnants of what was once man -
Until the idea of hot and cold become ancient stories only told
by those more than ten thousand years old -
Until it takes more than putting a hole in my tongue, private parts or face to be bold -
Until the final race, the final chase, and the Last Lawyer's Last Case -
Until all Ghettos become Boardwalk and Park Place
and all wicked white people disappear without a trace . . .
Until the Last Supper, Revelations, and the Resurrection -
I . . . from now . . . until . . .
Will be her protection.
I want to get to know her, get to show her, how much I owe her
the right to relax when I come her way,
and not turn to her girlfriends and say,
"Her comes another sorry brother ready to wreck my day."
I want her to feel like flowers greeting the sun,
or when the "car payments" are done, :-)
like the smell of fresh, hot-buttered popcorn,
or when that first child is born -
I want her to toot my horn -
To see me as a breath of fresh air,
make all her friends stop and stare in our direction,
'cause our connection is the right one,
our relationship . . . it's a tight one,
I am hers and yes, she is my one and only,
and even when I am not there, she's never lonely
because her thoughts of me take her to ecstasy -
Until once again, I am there for her to see,
pleased with my presence, to the extent that I too, am pleased to be present,
and mutual feelings are so intense . . .
It makes no sense to be this confident -
'cause I just want to see what she wants me to be,
and if it makes us both happy, and she finally trusts me,
and I am worthy . . . I don't know . . . we'll see . . . but maybe . . . just maybe,
She'll Marry Me.
GR8BLACK1@aol.com
This poem was written to all Beautiful, Black, African Women
World-Wide
It is my humble attempt to put into words how I feel about you all.
Please pass it on! :-)