The creek hollering woman spells play in glass bottles
Colorfully hanging in the trees
Singing whispers of dust roads and glory be’s wrapped up in dirty laundry
Roads and roads left to go imprinted in the seams of hands
And feet water up to knees
My prayers captured in their caps like maps
Face down and the sounds are captured in Oscars
History kinda sorta repeats
For she won’t be stopped
Looking glass reflecting truth sung in Orange Moons to Mississippi Goddamn
I sing in word form speaking in Dirt how the Blues didn’t die with you
Billie, Bessie, Dinah
No creek hollering still Zora surge her eyes watching God and Toni’s Bluest Eye see Caged Birds surely taking out of The Color Purple tie rags round head
And wings round ankles
Brooks cried like creek hollering Harriet, Sojourner, Davis locked horns tried to run the priestess
This world specially this world of red white and blue is crazy, only hope we have is to blow-up enuf dust to reflect what where how when why we are a tortured soul true nature gainst survival Oh~~~but we be the prettiest sad I ever seen
We be the prettiest down and out
We be nothing but bananas and skin
We be nothing but melodies
We be nothing but stories in rainbows connecting oceans to roots to trees to sky to God
In the shadow land they speak to me and if you listen gaisnt fear gainst society gainst the ones you love and claim to love you……you can hear the ocean move from drum to drum don’t know no other way spirits swirl under feet unshoed touching soil touching earth love didn’t drown with middle passages an Atlantis isn’t a dream love didn’t die with hands seeking little gurls gold spilling black gurl juice all over stained floors love didn’t die at the hand of men who promised to love No Oprah, Tina, Iyana we birth on candle sticks wick still lit corn liquor turn to needles and pipes that have the women running from creeks still hollering up praises we still raising Venus, Mary, Kesha and we still losing Evelyn, Anita almost Shakur
Roads still to go imprinted in palms singing songs of learning love hard
No real pedestal to stand on but those of our own
don’t want others flowers waiting to grow to know
……..they won’t but stopped no we won’t be stopped