Friday, June 3, 2016

what grew me

February 25th, 1964
dad in his sorrowful mode
a night like every other night
in the projects where men
check their gloom
my father my hero
alone in the living room
me, in the kitchen
learning to fly
when a man who is beaten
slumps angry and eaten
by what he thought
he might become by chance
or hard work if he tried
until the day he died
alone and resembling
the rumbled and cursed
that day Clay became Ali
our carpet in the projects
was linoleum and free
I stood under the shelf
silent in the kitchen
where the radio was housed
quiet as a mouse
my hero my dad
was grumbling and lost
I cheered in silence
for the man who said NO
I took on my roots
I began to grow in the way
I had done since birth, since impression
I bent to the win
I learned silent  aggression
works wonders when honored
and renewed my lifelong affection for wonder
cheering the man
who fought to be free
of war that enslaves us
that black men and white men will dance
for the masters to ponder
I learned to float like a butterfly
and sting like a bee

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