Poetry

An ode to my mother..

I close my eyes and imagine..

I imagine you at 16 carrying this unborn being.

Breathing..

Beat by beat..

Imagining..

Imagining a petite young teen, looking out at the world knowing that life ain’t gone quite be the same no more. 

I now imagine you at 17..

Rushing to Hurley Hospital to give birth to your first child.

I imagine tears.. 

Tears of pain and joy..

Tears of the unknown.

Mama, I’m filled with so much gratitude.

Reminiscing on days where it was just me and you.

Imagining..

Grasping ahold to you..

To this young petite beautiful queen..

You were an amazon to me..

My everything. 

Maneuvering through this jungle of a system.

Of poverty and welfare..

Branches of public housing..

My mama..

Years later moving to the street of Kellar..

A home. 

My home. 

Your home. 

Our home. 

Memories..

Yelling..

Laughing..

Crying..

Nearly     dying..

Oh mama..

I am you.. 

for you are your mother 

And she is her mother 

Ancestor galore

Jewels..

Oh mommy..

 I’m so proud of you..

A hardworkin, 

Pepsi drinkin,

Gum poppin, 

Nail paintin,

Skin glistenin,

Woman. 

I wonder.

I wonder if you know how beautiful you are ? 

Your smile..

Your sense of humor..

Insecurities. 

Ha.. 

I be just like you huh? 

Guess them there church folk was right when they say “girl you is yo mamas daughter”..

An ode to my mother..

Whom deserves it all..

An ode to her mother and her mother..

The very essence of why I stand tall..

I’m carrying y’all.. 

weight.

Of insecurities..

Mental instabilities..

Sexiness..

Womanhood. 

Mama.

I breathe for you..

I live for you.. 

I fight for you.. 

I read for you..

Attempting to receive this education..

A student of life..

Of hard times..

for surely.. 

I am you..

Mama. 


“Your like a book of poetry.. Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni, turn one page and there’s  my mommy” – Kanye West


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