Black Woman Who I Am Poem by Karen Siewert

Blaze of white against sky of blue
Imitating stationary clouds
Golden light piercing rounded wood
Leaching away its nature
A nature bred upon the plains of a misunderstood continent
The grasses of which are fed upon by the wild underlings of a starched oligarchy

Drums beat against the fetid air
Bringing a rush of wind
That lifts a flock of birds
Upon a wave of dissension

The screams of laboring women and squalling babies
Reminds us that this is a land of people
Not merely feral beings
Your money is of little use here
It is thrown into a smoldering fire
To join the ghosts of unappreciated generations

No more can be done here
For it is a continent of a splintered people


Part II

You walk the back streets of a crippled nation
The flag of your fellow countrymen draped across your shoulders

You kneel upon the ground
Dipping an edge into a puddle of water
And use it to wipe the dust from your face

You've been this way before
You're sure of it
You can feel the remembered loneliness
As unfamiliar shoulders press against you

You're all going to the same place
Even though no one knows where that is
You walk on



Part III

You ask who I am
Do you really want to know?
Do you really care?
Will you be able to handle the answer?

I don't think you will

When I scream you can't hear me
When I talk black you don't understand me
When I speak white you think you know me

Maybe if I speak softly you will understand

What you don't get is
I don't need you to understand
I don't even want you to

Who I am is who I am

And that's all you need to know