National Poetry Month: History

April is National Poetry Month, and I'm working to finish putting together my second book of poetry.  In the meantime, here is a reading from my first collection, I Wear the Colour Green (2008).

History

I pricked my finger,

Out spilled blood.

Thickening history ran

Massahs and missus

And cotton,

On which I wiped

The dripping blood and read

The pages full.

The back doors

Of the alley ways

Swing segregated freedom,

Different water,

Different air,

Different jobs—

In court a separate Bible.

In church a separate God.

My God said be gentle,

His God said be fierce.

White cape, rope in hand.

A structure crackles deep in flames,

Deep in flames.

The massahs and missus are gone now,

Only a couple to spare.

Yet, in my blood

I’m toting on.

I feel the wounds,

But looking back will

Salt them even more.

Dripping blood

Reality

Can lock the alley doors.

by Cedric L. Jones