Monday, May 5, 2014

A Poem with no name


She was the period at the end of the sentence,

as she referred to herself,

or the answer to my question

as I referred to her

since before her I was stuck in a rut,

looking for women in whose eyes I could see my future daughter Maya Angela George and/or future sons Daij Langston George and  Malcolm Wesley George,

or any names she would want the kids to have,

as long as they were ours.

I’ve since had to erase the period.

I wouldn’t say that God came between us.

It was religion that tore us apart.

I’ve had to erase the period,

Changing it to a comma,

waiting to complete it:

 changing it to a question mark,

looking for an answer.

I’m dating every chance I get,

but I’m not seeing  Maya or Daij or Malcolm in any of their eyes.

Dear Lord,

I’m dying a thousand times.

Please bless me.

Isn’t it about time?

I’m the only one I know who has not been divorced,

or isn’t with someone they wish  would leave home and never return.

(I guess that’s a good thing.

Right?)

                                         today she called to tell me she and her husband was having a son,

And if she could name him Malcolm Wesley Muhammad—
and I died inside again.

 

 

 

1 comment:

  1. I don't know you and won't presume to say I feel your pain but what I do feel is heartbroken. Heartbroken for a dream unfulfilled, a vision that won't be realized. God will bless you. It will happen when it will happen. It's a wonder why God doesn't allow us to navigate our lives or bring to fruition our hopes and dreams. I guess it's because He has a wider scope than we do. He sees the big picture while we see what's before us. You are truly talented and thank you for sharing. I'll continue to read.

    ReplyDelete

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First of all, I love GOD. Proud Christian here! I love the smell of baked goods, seeing dads with their sons at the barbershop, couples walking down the street holding hands, I love my friends and their kids and their dogs and cats and my cats. I love poetry, jazz, old school R&B, Hip hop, Gospel, House, architecture, writing, and baking. I love compliments about my baking, I love Paris, Scarborough Ontario, Latino culture, nappy hair, and the sound of kids laughing. The first thing I do every morning after I crawl out of bed is get on my knees to thank God for letting me see another day. I invite you to join me on this journey on this thing called Life, where you might laugh, cry, and perhaps be enlightened along the way! I might be enlightened as well, based on your responses to my posts. For collaborations: daij62@gmail.com