Sarah Jane Black
Biography of Sarah Jane Black
I was born into a broken family. But it would seem that most of us were in this day.
My mom held us together like tattered glue holding splintered wood stuck in the shape of a block. She made a world built entirely of our own imagination. We glimpsed the Beast, but never truly conceptionalized what roamed through life with us. Then, it all came out. Years of pretending, years of denial in order to survive, years of mistakes and hard feelings...it all came out. Sometimes, I wonder how I'm this whole. Other times, I still feel that I'm laid out in the words that were spewed all over this town- in what feels like the world. I believe that we are the very creation of happiness...sometimes it just takes some of us longer to discover this, and believe this. I'd like to believe that I'm almost there. But this is life. Life is a song, that no scientist can sing. We all go in and out of rhythym.
- Words of a Silent Poet
Sarah Jane Black's Works:
Seven. Destintale. Black Chix.
Sarah Jane Black Poems
WE think. We are not mindless, Yet somehow we sneak into the pretense That we are.
Language Of Black
Come. Resting peacefully I come.
The Silent Poet
Her hair- Knots. She knows that she has forgotten
We were in the stars. On the edge of a sandbar, more close to the real world than any girls our age could have been. We prayed at the beauty; the beauty that so many had talked about, but had forgotten in the world that we knew as home. They talk about footprints. How there was one set, because a man, who had suffered so much grief was being carried by Jesus. Out on that island where we stood on a ground of broken shells, moonbeams, and flecks of gold, God was showing us a small piece of heaven on earth. I discovered that there were footprints all over the world, all of us being carried by the same great God. I wondered how one man could stagger underneath all of that weight, but was reminded that He was no man. To bring us all back together after years of unrest was a testimony of our story tattoed across the sand. Divine intervention had made our set of three footprints not walk along the beach- no. Those footprints were scattered around the sand like the sun was scattered on our skin.
The Blossom In 1944
I found her in 1944 She was tall and could Easily be mistaken for a man If looked at from behind
The Undetected Angel
Her wings were folded. They seemed to be white but from my view on The ground, they were
She always knew the world was there— A constant drum beating in her inconsistent life Who she didn't know, was, Right. Right was beaming on her like the full
I could no longer wait- The wait for those months kept Weaving into the Pattern of an endless
A La Distinction
She stares in the mirror— This girl with multi-hued hair This girl with bluebell eyes that Subtly shift colors with the colors she
The Vow To Me
The vow wasn't long or tainted with Words dripped and clad of false enamor They were tattoos - Small scrawlings scuttled across my chest.
Free Wings Burn Up The Skies
FREE WINGS BURN UP THE SKIES. I once flew up to the cloud That kissed the top of the mountain above my house. I expected to explode in purple, orange and red because that was the color the cloud was made from the sun.
The Undetected Angel
Her wings were folded.
They seemed to be white
but from my view on
The ground, they were
like dark flecks
Of yesterdays beatings pinned
Limply on her back
She didn't fall—