Debra McIntyre

I Am
The sum of all equal parts
That make up the universe
Are you versed in the rhthym
...

Nothing ever sounds so sweet
As the pitter patter of Little Feet
Up and down well travelled stairs
With padded feet and braided hair
...

I am Queen Black Mocha
From the jungles of these urban streets
My spirit over shadows the southend brownstones
It's span reaches up to the murderous Mattapan streets
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Inaz was a people person
Who trusted a smiling face
She had a lot friends
That she met in cyberspace
...

Closed minds see the body of a female bent and broken at the waist
Delivering babies
Food and shelter to the anonymous faces in a society blinded by the truth of a lie told over and over again
Leaving out the most validating parts of who stooped her shoulders
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I was born on the first Sunday
Of the ninth month
On the eleventh day
In the fifth hour a.m.
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Once loves passion has been all but consumed
And,
The mention of your name draws a curtain on past commitments
I summon the courage to tell you that
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Unknown artist canvass city scapes
In search of passions full embrace
Of color
Too perfect for an artist brush
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I am A Good Woman
A Good Woman who deserves
A good man
I deserve every chance
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Midnight soirees and magical plum orange colored skies Intoxicated me
Sensuous jasmine resting lightly on my wrist
Neck and supple bosom waft through the summer breeze
Summoning my mandigo warrior
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Evening comes late on your shoulders
I am saddened by the news on your face
Love once again has passed you by
Your Glimmer of hope has been erased
...