I went to ma daddy,
Says Daddy I have got de blues.
Went to ma daddy,
Says Daddy I have got de blues.
Ma daddy says. Honey,
Can’t you bring no better news?
I cried on his shoulder but
He turned his back on me.
Cried on his shoulder but
He turned his back on me.
He said a woman’s cryin’s
Never gonna bother me.
I wish I had wings to
Fly like de eagle flies.
Wish I had wings to
Fly like de eagle flies.
I’d fly on ma man an’
I’d scratch out both his eyes.
From The Book of American Negro Poetry (Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922), edited by James Weldon Johnson. This poem is in the public domain.
i.
the seat is upon us again
solemn, yet a reminder of death
faith, love & forgiveness
amplified by stripes sheep, astray and
laid thus that sacrifice unknown foe
pierced six thousand sons on target
to end the population
the nation pain is going on active over
the woods police conformity with law
gain failure marked as Government
protect each other until poses threat
to things that are not like the revival witnessed
dent, again bright on everything
I appeal to you, in the blood spilled on us
ii.
I appeal to you, in the blood spilled on us
come lift lives into absence
wave the organisation to rise tragically
mark a day report a stand
guard the breach disregard the economy
lives steer our nation onto path
fortune is extremely troubling
wearing exceptions with recklessness
majority gathers to eat, drink, laugh and talk
in subject to spite the huge dependence foreign regard
government forging funds for development
short is the capacity to finish
come to life have no doubt
God too shall pass the battle for the night
Copyright © 2022 by Henneh Kyereh Kwaku. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on June 15, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.
She really let herself go.
This story is hard to tell.
When the men you love
insist a woman hold on
never
let herself go
never
let herself loose
never
let herself leave
never
let herself depart
never
let herself mobilize
never
let herself imagine
never
let herself grow
big enough to lift off
the runway
like a jet
full of fuel.
Copyright © 2022 by Stacey Waite. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on September 22, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.