Tag: freedom

Mothers On Mothers Day

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MAMA. The maker and destroyers of destinies and worlds. -JBHarris

Mothers On Mother’s Day

If I tell you happy Mother’s Day,

it means I see you sis.

It means I see you

doing is best you can

as long as you can,

and sometimes you do the can

even when you don’t know

where the rest will come from.

When I tell you

Happy Mother’s Day,

that means I believe in you,

that I want the best for you,

know that there is no one quite like you.

If I tell you Happy Mother’s Day,

that means I see all

you will become,

all that you’ve had to overcome,

even when no one

would come to you

when you needed them.

Even in those darkest times,

when you wish

the love of a mother was yours —

you can share mine.

When you didn’t see

your way clear,

when the world gave you

dark when all you needed

was light —

and you persisted.

Through rain and sleet and snow, thunderbolts

lightning crashes,

and its flashes,

taking everything from you.

And you persisted.

As godmother,

as foster mother,

Adopted mother

Bonus moms

as a sister from another mister—

You are the being essential as

part of a village.

Seeing the children in your world

as those who could never leave it,

leaving your love in their bones.

You see, no mother works alone.

You are needed and necessary,

And necessary to be needed.

And in the need,

in the try,

you still manage

to wipe tears from your own eyes, to

plant trees that you may never feel the shade from.

But all eat the fruit thereof.

Fighting wars that were yours never to be won.

Through stress,

Strife, causalities,

The skies burning—

Or falling!—

And the 10,000 falling

By your right side

And stride forward.

Through grief and loss, you still are called mother.

The repairing,

Generational curse breaking

through the apprehension,

even through sometimes

active addiction,

someone called you: MAMA.

Through trauma, you showed up…

And even through that

As the children who survived

and remain forgive you

when you couldn’t do anything…but give up.

Happy Mother’s Day

is complicated

because that’s the title

even if you die—

no one will ever take away.

Or replace.

-JBHarris, Mother’s Day 2024

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 30: Love Letter To Lost Work

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The old texts say

It is appointed unto man

Once l to die

and then the judgment.

what happens to writers

who leave the world

And in the contents therein

with their mouth full.

Their desks full of papers

And pens

And post-its….

Of jump drives, and

Missing chairs,and

Desks never cleaned out.

What happens to the work when the worker is gone?

When that writer

finally drifts away,

and moved to

Avalon or Valhalla

or Nirvana

or wherever it is

writers get to rest.

Our only regret

is that we had

Only one life to write

all the lives in us down.

In the quiet mind

Of the poet,

there is a graveyard

they forgot to write down.

Novels unfinished.

Thoughts and essays

That they never managed

To submit…

calls, answered from editors or fans.

Scripts that never materialized.

Yet it we could leave

One word for those

who endured our lives

as both person

and immortal vessels

filled with language

it would be this:

Remember.

Remember

how we tried to put

everything

into everything

Ran and out of time.

Remember that we loved

As this truly as we could

and our heart was broken

1000 times…

Remember we tried

to put fire into paper

and try not to burn ourselves.

Remember sometimes tears

Became the water you pull from,

In many a well.

We wrote to live.

We wrote to stay.

And for this great cause

Did we not throw

it all away!

if we could leave

But one love letter

What to you will

find in our wake,

Is tried to correct

every mistake.

to bring back those

who were lost

at the cause of war

Or famine

or evil…

to make the good

Loud and present, and

the fear understood.

We tried to put everything right

to organize

so you can fight!

we did our work

so you could do yours too:

because now our time is come

And this is all we have

to give back to you.

Our only regret

Is we had one life

to write everyone else’s

-JBHarris, 4.2024

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 27: Light. Heat. Smoke.

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He said

My mouth was slick,

And I was always

Poppin my shit!

You think that

Him knowing me

As long as

he knew

Himself would prepare

Him for me to

Always come

Ace High,

No chaser —

Hot.

Smooth.

And…

Thick!

Full-bodied

And smooth

…like he likes

All desirable things

He believes

Belong to him.

He brave enough

To say I, too, belong

To him—

Who am I

To argue when

…he be right?

-JBH, 9.3.2023

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 23: Suvivorship

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Fun fact: the name Zachary is from Zachariah which means the Lord remembers.

Note: This is my first husband’s real first name and I never took his. He is remarried to another woman, has children with her, and makes no attempt to have a relationship with his children. As you read this work, with this backstory, it will make more sense.

He left us on

Constructed wings

Of wax to wain

Leaving us to watch

To see

the sea

Welcome him.

There is no love lost

When the man you loved

No longer exists—

If he ever had.

The name

The Lord remembers

Corresponds to

The same Icarus

Who left me with

The daughters

Held in body

And heart.

The same one

Who now has

Made his tribe

Complete with the

Sons be craved

So that his line

And its curses

Might not die

With him.

Tied to you by time

As my ancestors were

The language and land

Foreign because I

Never was supposed

To be here alone.

To rage, rage against the

Dying of the light!

I swallowed the salt water

For my children to breathe.

Pressing –

Swimming –

Towards the Son

With the

These two

Cleaving to me

To make their

Mother a mermaid

to bring them to

Dry land

To make the milk and honey.

My fins are feet

and feet are fins

The traversing between

The world given

And the world that is.

And taught my daughters to swim.

Their father is Icarus.

Their mother is Yemoja.

The death he wanted

Was his own —

And he can watch

from the bottom of the sea.

-JBHarris, 4.2024

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 19: The Mammy Of A Burning House

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America is a plantation:

It just depends on where you sit.

And from where you sit,

It is the speed at which

they will give you bullshit.

The fact there are

Skinwalkers among

the safe places and

Spaces of Black people

should be a not shock to you.

Because —

You know —

They lied and betrayed Jesus too.

Understand that

Skinwalkers have always

Been among us!

Ever since Massa

Found one’ah us

Willing to betray

all that he is,

All that she was

in order to get a little bit more

Of where they got theirs from—

understanding all that they have is stolen.

You worship the oppression

and wonder why your life

is in ruin—

at the same time

Want protection from

who rescued from your

Own doin’!

You have to understand

that there is no room

For you at the inn!

That you have found yourself

Among thieves and robbers

and the same time

you wanna clobber us

For all that we have garnered

and say that we are lazy!

Have you been so far

From your mother’s table

From your father’s arms

You no longer recognize

I am you?

because I recognize that you are me.

And in that same breath

In the same life’s brevity,

I understand the same documents

That you worship?

They will hang you with.

They will use your blood

to keep the flag red, white and blue.

Red for the Blood shed

Here, there, and everywhere abroad.

White for ten same

Colored people who

Stole it and erased

All others,

Chaining the remaining as

If we had no mother,

Treaties as broken

As the husks of cicadas.

When you are

Hallowed out

Wiped and rubbed clean

Of blackness and its cause eternal

Blue is what you succumb

And remain

Once they hang you!

It is not my job to make you comfortable—

But to remind you of

All that is within you

That your rescue has

Always been in the room

But you continue

To your doom

but you must understand

because White father has

told you that black is bad .

And yet —

When the house burns down

You realize that we

are all you ever had!

But at the same time,

I had you your broom

Back to you!

there is no one willing

to stay here with you!

The plantations are burning!

Massa is dead!

And we have long time

before we go to bed,

so we have to keep going.

You sweet ‘round this porch

because this is what you wanted!

What you have worked for!

To be the best one

Outta all of us

And I say—

By that game you’ve won.

So, gone head and sit down some.

Rest a spell!

You gon need it for the

War yet to be won.

Because trust and believe

They’ll put your

Black ass at the end

Of a gun!

understand that you

Cannon fodder for

The cause of whiteness

because you have decided

To sacrifice all of yourself—

For all that they are!

And when the house burns down

Stay in there!

Because there is no more room

and we can’t share the air.

You have to understand

that you did this to you,

So sweep around that

front door like Massa

Told you to!

I will not be a mammy of a burning house.

-JBHarris, 4.17.24

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 14: Bitches’ Brew

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Note: this piece is inspired by the album of the same name by legendary musician, Miles Davis.

You ain’t got tell me

God is Black

Because Miles’ and

Gabriel’s horn

Got to sound

The same!

That horn

With the fire

On the inside

To the outside

That announce

The arrival of

Heroes into the Earth.

The poet prophets

The prophet poets

Responding to the

Echo of the 3 strand

Divinity inside them to

Tell you want is wrong —

And how to right it.

When she is woman

— and not man

She is bossy

She is agitation

She is loud

She is rude

And to push

The hush into her?

You call HER a BITCH.

(Beat)

I’ll be the bitch

Stay that bitch

The chick

Which notices

Every ounce of

This bullshit!

Who’s business

Sits on her chest!

And adjusts in

A good Fenty DOUBLE D bralet!

Because:

who The fuck is youPlaying wit’?!

The brew be that

Fire that bring

Light, heat and smoke

To step on ashes

And in my ether

The unworthy choke!

The world needed

Saving,

And by one man

It was done

And this time

At this reclamation

The truth still

Gon come

From a Black woman!

(Beat)

So…

I’ll be villain in ya story.

I’ll be the lie you repeat.

Because I didn’t

Break in half

Die,

Or gravel at your feet!

That truth be

Fire all up in

The EYE

that make sure

The greens taste

Just right!

Pulling in all the scraps

The world gave

Believing my Black

And woman

Would give

Me no haven.

Time and fire

Made the brew

So when I show up

All big in room,

Yall don’t know

What to do!

But know this,

I know what I

See,

And see what

I say,

And asking me

To shut up?

(Beat)

Bruh, aint no way.

-JBHarris, 4.2.2024

1947

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The break of day

Jack sat in

An office that

Would change his

Life and —

I can’t help

But think of the

Hymn that says

The Blood ‘dun signed my name.

A door which would open

For all those

Coming behind

And remembering

Who was in front.

With this signing

With this mountain climbing

This sport that

Puts together ball and bat

Gave us legacy

Of Black and Athlete

To stand up on

Two feet

And there always

Needs to be a

Dodger Blue 42.

-JBHarris

(Written on Jackie Robinson Day, 4.10.2024)

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 8: Donovan

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This conjure woman told me

We got work to do

She said that

You are in me

And I am in you.

She said that we

knew each other through

Life times, and –

Changing tides, and –

You being Air

and I being water –

There can never be

One without the other.

You see—

You are in me

And I am in you

And this conjure woman said

We got work to do.

In this life of perilous circumstance

Has given me my heart,

And a second chance

To know where you are

Is where I desire to be

There is nowhere you

Could ever go that

You cannot send for me.

You being Water,

And I being Air

There is never a time

That anyone else

Can compare!

See-

you must understand

The very meaning of

your name is

who we both are:

which is Black.

The meaning of this

name given to me

by my father,

who has his name

shared with King of Generations,

but yet at the same time

in this inneration of our Blackness

I being Oshun-

and you being Shango –

They can never be any place

Where You are

That I cannot go!

This love I bear for you

Be deep and dark and wide—

Where can I hide

From he who was made

For me?

I have written you in stars.

Sought you in the water

Of my own making.

Seen you in sons

And sunrises.

Dearest of my heart

No comparison

can be

Too fraught!

See you understand

That in the echo of wind

You hear me say

Your name

Which is why

When you

Are with me

There can never

Be one who can

Do the same!

See, while you waste time

Time is yet chasing us!

Thursting is back

Together is

A most Supreme Justice!

So you must understand

What we gotta do!

Because you are in me

And I am in you-

You are in me

And I am in you

And this conjure woman said

We got work to do.

-JBHarris, 3.14.2024