neuroses: a deconstruction, a praise poem

today I forgive myself

for my trembling voice

my quaking fingers

give way to the sea change they foreshadow

praise the frayed nerves

the humble tremor of hands

the tuning fork rattle of limbs

keying me in to the vibration

of feelings once muted

all hail the soft mush made of bones

once such rigid things

set to the boom bap metronome

of city masculinity

today they fall apart

fall soft like feather

fall like roll of dice

who knows what will come of them…

this gathering of once fossilized truths

now stockpiling at my feet

I read them like a deck of cards

seek my future in my past

Sankofa the sorrow to siphon a lesson or two

no more the hard brow furrowed

at all that whispers fear

no more the stone eyes gone

cold in all tethered to terror

no more the balled hands

choking on rumors of war

I will live with open palms

freedom splayed as the lifeline across them

my soft voice will crack mountains

my truth, a dulcimer tone

will quake the sky

The Ellisonian Basement is a collection of my writings on Blackness & visibility in the post-modern world, OR Duboisian double consciousness under surveillance.

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