5 Stages of Shango for Mercedes Holford

i

behind her smile

   is a rage

hand her my axe

  as we ride

adorn her neck

  with the red and white bead

 whisper the wisdom

once more in her ear

    she is my cedar

       planted in kansas

   the white egg shell

      smudged and reborn

  in every heart that knew her

 the consort

of Black Valhalla

my warrior child

forever

ii

and somewhere

  beneath that rona tragedy

    is mother and daughter

no killer found

    who stalks her memory

without knowing

   Shango

kabiesile!

lifted seat

  lifts axe to you

foul and cruel

      lava burn your eyes

   carved grooves in face

your judgment

breathless gasps

     child smiles tattooed inside your eyelids

the city

topeka

that fails all you touch

   that takes all you nurtured

and renders it dust

a balloon in the sky

      that flies raven

forevermore

til it falls like acid

like justice

 on heads unwashed

uncleaned of wicked

    not-snitched

we’ll find you

       warrior sister slayer

Shango have mercy!

iii

restored mercedes

to her rightful throne

     fixed her crown

        and makeup

   repainted her smile

she no longer dies

she is again who she was

    laughing in hallways

    dodging homework

    the jump up to goat’d beats

Black girl magic says 

     she’ll live forever

if her sister mirrors are made whole

iv

the nothingness of tomorrow

   of the Black girl in constant suspension

  the SRO who cuffs her soul

        too powerful to be detained

so 

     we lost

  for all our fighting

    and the guns always win

      our cash crop

    must flow i guess

for american greatness

on ventilators

  and a balloon is all we have to remember

forever

v

but if she has to go

    she should know

 that smile

was all i wanted

       that now we know

  just how hard the heart can rip

  just how easily life can slip

  just what we saw

     hiding behind that smile

and i’ll see you

   in the lightning and thunder

 riding with Shango forever

Mercedes

Things I Can't Tell My Daughter

When I was Black

I had a tear

That swept

Beneath the skirt

Of the ocean

It lays in rest

With the souls of Black folkx

Who knew

What survival might cost

When Breonna Taylor slept

In dreams of a family

In arms of a lover

In shelter

In alarm

Woke

To bullet pounding

Info terror propaganda

Whistle blower PD parties

Black woman lost to the whims

Of a thirsty media demon

Fed with likes and sad faces

And a people too tired and hungry to stand up

When Black men search for birds

Their phones should be fully charged and live camera capable

They should always beware of unknown white women

With god complexes

And should never attempt to correct them in any way

Lest they end up like Christian Cooper

Lest they want the noose

When we don’t mourn

A cop kneels firmly on our neck

And a no-knock

Carries us down the river

To ol’ massuh’s house

Where the sun don’t shine

And the bees don’t buzz

And ain’t no way to know

What it means to be Black

Ahmaud Arbery

If I were lynched in the streets

My children would avenge me

The moon with her sling 

The star with her bone

And my wife 

River

With a cauldron

What I mean is

Hands off the black godhood

Because you see

If

We had trapped a white man

Between two cars

And shot him down

No guns fired

I’d be in a black site jail

Until the klu klux klan

Had their grand jury

Instead I put my head

Between two lips

And wait for corona

To take my six times more likely black self

To sankofa

Sankofa, a Black person’s Valhalla

And if you don’t believe me

Believe that for running

You can lynch a Black man

But we won’t stop running

Not when cops say

Drop your skin or we’ll shoot

Not when doctors claim we don’t feel pain

Not when billboards say we don’t father the children we raised

Not when jobs burn the names off our applications

Not when crack blocks are our stimulus package

Not when American flags stretch our necks to pledging

Not when our children are sold, our mother’s confiscated and our backs stripped for a name

Ahmaud Aubrey

Say his name

Stations Underground: The Greatest Friday

By Tai Amri Spann-Ryan

Yo your laws

Have passed us over

You call us brothers and sisters

But our ancestors were called a scourge

Disinherited

Dispossessed

Wretched

Betrayed

You fell asleep on our needs

Now the reaper comes

But here

Hear my guilt

There was no way to freedom

So we built stations

Seven in number

Live from the underground

Straight from the sewers

Live from the underground

Straight from the sewers

Live from the underground

Straight from the sewers

Live

Station 1

See my street clothes

Meth mouthed

Track marked

Youth excommunicated

Fire and brimstoned through the system

Pastor’s kid

Abomination

Found family

In non blood

To stay alive and thrive

Station 2

You was my ally

Marched left and right

By my side

But when ICE came knocking

You didn’t know my name

Station 3

If I were to say

There was a priest

Who sells clean souls for a profit

And preys on the young

And a politician

Crying, “Pro-Life!”

For lobbyist payouts

Who’s to say

I wouldn’t get the electric chair

While private prisons get Swiss accounts?

Station 4

I’m purpled

Like a stranglehold

The beating gotten when I don’t follow massuh’s edicts

The beating when I do

The Black girl

8 times more likely suspended than her White counterpart

Wet’suwet’en

Jailed in pipeline legislation

Carlos Gregario Hernandez Vasquez

Collapsing in captivity

Queen Candy

In a hotel room

Station 5

Carried Guadalupe

Tattooed on my back

Carried a cradle over the border

Carried a coffin back

A slave sent

To pick my strawberries

No soap

Just bags to carry

No amount of oxy

Can erase the memory of a child

Separated

I carry the loss

Of 9th great grandparents

Removed

To a southern slaughter

Station 6

In Juarez

There is a femicide

When we think of our own oppression

In St. Louis

All COVID-19 deaths

Were Black

But the news

Won’t show

What’s through the torn veil

Station 7

Women

As usual

Are the ones who see the truth first

That there’s nothing inside

The promises are hollow

The Dream’s infected

Death’s a cycle to life

That when they buried us

They didn’t know we were seeds