I know I have been bombarding you all with lots of these spoken word stuff. I was going to stop for a while but I found this really beautiful one.
It’s like the reverse of the one that I put yesterday by Falu. This piece is probably one of the best spoken word poems I have ever heard. Every Black woman needs to hear this. In fact, listen to it every morning so that you can realize how special you are.
I couldn’t stop smiling as I was listening to it. Anyway, listen to Joshua Bennet praise the black woman.
As usual, Ill leave the transcript below for those that prefer reading it.
10 things I want to say to a black woman.
1. I wish I could put your voice in a jar; Wait for those lonely winter nights when I forget how God sounds like; Run to the nearest maximum security prison and open it. Watch the notes bounce off the walls like ricochet bullets, etching key holes into the sternums of every brother in the room, skeletons opening, rose blossom beautiful to remind you that the way to a black man’s heart is not through his stomach but its through the heaven in your ‘hello’. The echo of unborn galaxies that pounces forth from your vocal cords and melts ice grills into oceans, baptizing our lips and so harsh words fade from our memories and we forget why we stopped calling you divine in the first place.
2. When I was born, my mother’s smile was so bright, it knocked the air from my lungs and I haven’t been able to breathe right since. It’s something about the way light dances off of your teeth. The way the moon gets jealous when you mock her crescent figure with the shape of your mouth, queen. You make the sky insecure, self conscious from being forced to stare at your face every morning and realize that the blues of her skin was painted by that symphony doing cartwheels on your tongue.
3. Who else can make kings out of bastards? Turn a fatherless christmas into a floor full of gifts and the kitchen that smells like the Lord is coming tomorrow and we must eat well tonight. I used to think my sister was a blacksmith. The way she put fire and metal and made kitchen miracles at 14. Making enough food to feed a little boy who didn’t have the words to say how much she meant to him back then or have the backbone to say so the day he turned 20.
4. Your skin reminds me of everything beautiful I’ve ever known; The color of ink on a page, the earth we walk on and the cross that held my savior.
5. I’ve seen you crucified too. Spread out on billboards to be spiritually impaled by millions of men with eyes like nails who made martyrs of your daughters. So I’m sorry for the music videos;For Justin Timberlake at the Super Bowl and the young man on the corner this morning. Made you want to shed your flesh and become invisible. Never doubt that they only insult you because…men are confused and we are trained to destroy or conquer everything we see from birth.
6. If I ever see Don Imus in public, I’ll punch him in the face; One time for every member of the Rutgers and Tennessee basketball teams. Then i’ll show him a picture of Phylicia Rashad, Assata Shakur, Eartha Kitt, my mother, my grandmother and my seven year old neice whose got eyes like fire bombs and then dare him to tell me that black women are only beautiful in one shade of skin.
7. You are like a sunrise in a nation at war. You remind people that there is always something worth waking up to.
8. When we are married, I will cook, do the dishes and whatever else it takes to let you know that traditional gender roles have no place in the home we build. So my last name is an option. Babysitting the kids, a treat we split equally and our bed will be an ancient temple, where I construct altars of wax on the small of your back and we make love like the sky is falling, moving to the rhythm of bed springs and Bel Biv Deveo, angels applauding in unison, saying this is the way it was meant to be.
9. My daughter will know her father’s face from the day she is born and I can only pray that the Superman complex lasts long enough for me to deflect the pain this world will aim at her. From the moment she’s old enough to realize that the color ‘brown’ is still not considered human in most places. But my daughter will have a smile like a wheelchair and so even when I’m at my worst, when the kryptonite of this putrid planet threatens to render me grounded, The light dancing off her teeth will transform the shards of my broken body into heart-shaped blackbirds, taking flight on the wind that reminds me of my savior’s hands, my daughter’s smile and my mother’s laugh when I was in her womb.
10. Never stop pushing. This world needs you now more than ever.