Poetry Friday

I Like The Sound of My Voice

I like the sound of my voice- blue, blue black
factory bent, southern descendant- mama’s
hopes tied up in three little brown faces.
Hips swayin', dashki wearin’,70s’ sexy sangin’
Davis’ fro pickin’ & Panther dreams explodin’ .
It’s about the Revolution, baby & love & baby-makin’ .

This is me with my rhythm;
I write my own anthem.

I like the sound of my voice- click, click, heels
on stairs stepping into the blue lights in the basement.
Come on baby & slide, come on baby & slide.
It was Strawberry 23 the first time you kissed me;
Stevie was blaring ribbons in sky, ribbons in the sky,
ribbons in the skies of your love-
between my thighs.

This is me with my rhythm;
I write my own anthem.

I like the sound of my voice- sista in locs and Birkenstocks
in the blue lights at open mic. How I wish I were the cup
that touches your lips. Scented locs & anks & incense burnin’
Come on baby, I don’t have much just a little beans & wine.
Politics & Love Jones. More Jones. Wanna be the funk in your thigh.
Let’s celebrate Mandela’s release; revolution is won, baby.

*This is me with my rhythm;
I write my own anthem.


Reposting this for Poetry Friday. *Writing prompt at readwritepoem is to write a bop. We also had to borrow two lines. My *refrain comes from participant rmilana. Poetry Friday is hosted this week at Live. Love. Explore!