We sit in the heart of darkness

In musical theatre characters break into song because words and structure are not enough. Though I'm not a poet, as a writer, poetry is a way for me to sing when simple words and structure are not enough.

This is in honor of the 11 victims of the hate crime at Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, the passing of iconic playwright, poet and feminist Ntozake Shange who inspired generations of black women women (including me) to glory in their majesty and Maurice E. Stallard, 69, and Vickie Lee Jones, 67 the victims of a white supremacist in Louisville. 

May they all rest in peace.

Heart of Darkness

We sit in the heart of darkness.

The bowel of fear and pain.

What matters revenge if we know it can happen again?

There is so much father pull.

Not enough mother pull.

Inspirations die.

Ntozake. Shange.

Leave us behind.

To fend without.

Where is the light?

Where is the light?

Where is it?

I know where love is.

It is not enough.

He cannot lead us.

Yet he drags us.

We list the names.

Downcast our eyes.

Where is the sun?

Where is the sun?

Where is it?

What makes us powerful most?

One step.

Two steps.

Back to what?

Were we ever?

Oh Dear God.

Most high.

Wherever.

The heart of darkness is not a dwelling place.

No justice.

No peace.

I want justice.

I want peace.

Maya says, "Each one. Pull one."

Pull.

Pull.

Reach.

Reach.

Climb.

Walk.

Forward.

Go.

On.

 

 

 

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