The Black Heart of a Dark Matriarch
So deserving of sung praise to be caroled is
your name to be heralded
That this symphony’s taken a quarter of a century to write.
For your plight is to be the last because you were the first –
My first thirst to touch the essence of birthed life.
From the moment you witnessed
my pain of being circumcised –
You cried… over my forfeited fights as a toddler you wept.
It’s from such observed absorbency
that I’ve been acquainted with black love’s enormity
through unfathomable fathoms of depth.
You even risked death to grant my first breath
In the face of personal risk and mortal threat –
You took my first momentous chance.
Is there’s any room for doubt
how I’ve come to expect so much out
From my true view of absolute romance?
Only a heart blackened as yours could I come to adore –
there’s no void when such an entity absorbs all
to surpass connotations of such negativity.
You are my first love and only mother,
above you I can place no other –
through both my Fathers I cherish the spirit you delivered into me.
Your dark matriarch sparked the part
Of my shadow that engulfs my art –
In love, prose and self discovery.
From my need of discipline and adept appraisal,
From my successes to my failures –
I thank you so much for tough and touching love to me.
You are integral to the formation of
Our enriched heritage’s nation –
your matriarchal Phoenix flares
Light in our ascension to heaven.
Motherly love floods forth new meaning with
The insight gained through your streaming –
My zenith cup overfloweth in folds of seven.
Pride also floods my eyes when you confide
In me your wants and desires –
Both for yourself in health and for your only son and daughter.
I can’t believe that you deem
The confidence seen in me to be so serene
in my extra second chance that’ll make
distance between us so much farther.
My path is set to reinvent and reincarnate
what you placed as my heart’s base –
In time, I hope not to replace but to extend what you’ve created.
For your support I’ll always trust you,
for your resort I’ll always love you…
No matter how I may portray this, please never debate it.
**
Matriarch Butterfly
Sheltered beneath your wings
I’ve learned so many things.
Through your monarch I can spread my own with the throne of my Queen.
For my lessons of love first bloomed
In the cocoon of your womb…
You prepared me from birth to seek the true worth of warm rings.
In my own investigations,
I often lost myself in my impatience.
I often wandered in bewilderment from your guidance.
But your inheritance stayed in the face of weather hectic
And sent a warning message though I couldn’t properly detect it…
Though now I’ve learned to respect it as even at a distance, I’ll be right beside it.
A re-known and renowned crown
I recently brought home to share.
For I wanted you to see what has lifted me
to new heights in our climbing heir.
But with your wisdom you’d already sensed some of her inbred royalty.
I can’t continue this dynasty with another
without having been blessed with the queen of all mothers…
So if that mean’s I’ve been buttered and smothered,
then I thank you for spoiling me.
**
Nursing Refined
From the time I heard my first nursery rhymes
To the time I got the nerve to verse my first deep rhyme,
I’ve rehearsed street wise beats designed to honor Ma Goose.
I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout some standardized sonnets
From some gander’s wife who dons a bonnet…
I’m talkin’ honest regards formed in a modest barrage for my Mom’s dues.
She deserves a corsage like a prom beaut –
Nothing cheesy or crummy like a fondue.
She’s beyond dues – a mink coat’s the tip of the iceberg.
Everyone likes her – she’s top gun like Tom Cruise.
Her insightful words are hard to refute…
She’s got a calming mood, but c’mon dude, it’d be faux pas to abuse –
so you’d best not excite her!
Pluck the right nerve, and she’s a hard bomb to diffuse.
Forget Tyson biting what you heard – my dad’s chest hairs were lodged and removed!
My Mom chewed ‘em through – this deed was both literal and metaphorical.
Forget Hannibal’s fava beans –
She handled my father’s teat…
Considering my father’s features, that’s a hard feat like zebras on metal floors and stone!
I thank God for her true sense.
I’m glad she saw past my youthful dawn of nuisance.
I evolved and grew since I stuck my tongue out and she almost chewed it.
If not for her, I wouldn’t have sought a true glimpse
Of what God has honored in unlocked and hewn sense…
I’m wed-locked with Quiana’s movement because I’d seen what womanhood should be
in its art from truest.
That’s what I call nursing refined.
Though she may have went to college for nursing and declined,
She rehearses the theme fine when it comes to her grown children.
Her resilience could darken Zeus’.
She deserves original literature beyond that of Dr. Suess’…
For she’s the new spruce fused in Big Momma rooted –
becoming a child of destiny as she helps her own to build some.
**
My Mother’s Day
a.k.a.
A Star at 59
On 6/10/45,
God sent in an important life.
He christened and fortified it to be a spectacular Person.
For grace, He sent in an abnormal size
to lengthen her forming strides…
She could’ve been 6’10” or portly and wide
from the additive matter that He inserted.
To strengthen her mortal eyes,
Her intuition was formalized.
This fruition and devised her significant glimpse.
Far beyond the extent of a normal guise,
The stars of her eyes exist to be more than wise…
As even in dormant times, her vision’s hardly an insignificant sense.
She even listens with importance devised –
(Though the expense of this sense can horrify!)
Her ear channels sear annals into her mind’s expansive chambers.
Couple a sixth sense with her being more than nice,
Her heart extends to friends in morbid times…
As she sets trends that glorify how God fantastically made her!
