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Poem for Our Mothers
(to the young ladies of Xavier University Preparatory
School)
By
Professor ARTURO
This poem is for our
mothers
This poem is for New
Orleans mothers
This poem is for New
Orleans women
-true believers and
achievers (keepers of the faith)
who nurtured,
cradled, counseled and comforted…
This poem is for the
satin dolls, the yardbird suite tastes of honey,
walkin’ (all
by themselves) on Green Dolphin Street…
or working in steamy,
hot kitchens and air-conditioned boardrooms
-on planes and
trains, in banks and tanks
-at computer
terminals and behind the bar
(ain’t nuthin’
wrong with that – she just raisin’ her chirrens)
This poem is for the
students of Xavier Prep
(future educators,
legislators, liberators and leaders)
This poem is for Ruby
Bridges, Oretha Castle Haley and Leah Chase
This poem is for the
church women and the street wimmin
(Sometimes they both)
-Oops! My ba-a-a-a-a-ad…
This poem is for
yo’momma
(Yeah, I’m talkin’ ‘bout
yo’ momma – and yo’ gran’ma, too)
-yo’ momma who told
you ‘bout sitting properly (like a young lady)
-yo’ momma who told
you ‘bout how hard she work
to send you to a
quality school (no thugs allowed)
-yo’ momma who told
you how hard it was
when she laid down there and had
you
-mommas who git you
up off yo’ offensive end
so you can be on time
for school
-mommas who say “I
done brought yo’ behind here – and I’ll take you away!”
-mommas who say “I’ma
put so mucha you on the flo’ –
they gon’ think
it’s the Blood Bank up in here!”
(them kinda
mommas)
This poem is for the
mothers who see their children slaughtered
in the city’s
mean streets
-women who cry “My
baby! My baby!”
(when it’s too-oo-oo
late ba-a-aby…)
-women who say “They
needs to stop all this killin’ –
I
thought we had done got way mo’ betta den nat!”
-women who deny
themselves
so their children can
get a good education
-women who make beds
to send their chirrens to school
-women who
“talk-too-much-and-worry-you-to-death”
-women who sing
“ba-a-aby, ba-a-a-by, ba-a-a-by…)”
-women who choose
their men on what they got
what they
wear
what they drive and
what they say
insteada what
they are…
women who run for office
women who run the
office
women who run from
the office…
women who fry chicken
for a livin’
(ain’t nuthin wrong with
that)
-women who have you wear
your clothes properly
(as befits a young
lady)
-women who know ‘bout
“who shot the La-La”…
-women who tell jokes
women who tell jokes
women who tell jokes
like: “Why did the cow get a new house?
-because it had to moo-oo-oove…”
or jokes like: “Name three parts of speech –
-‘My
mouf, my lips, and my teefs’”
or
jokes like: “What kinda rice is brown on the outside and
white
on the
inside?
--
‘Condoleezza Rice’”
(You wro-o-o-ong for that)
Women who represent
women who represent
women who truly
represent…
women like Mary McCleod Bethune and Sojourner Truth
-women like the African
mothers who cast their children overboard
rather than
have them raised in bondage
-women who were sold at
the market
-women who shopped
at the market
-women who shopped at
Schwegmann’s and D.H. Holmes
-women who shopped at
McKenzie’s and Maison Blanche
-women who shopped at
K-B and Krauss (but couldn’t try hats on)
-women who shopped at
the corner sto’ (mostly on creddick)
-women who shop wherever
they wan’ shop
and work wherever
they wan’ work (after “integration”)
-women named “Elsie”
(HOW NOW, BROWN COW?)
-women who sing “That
bo-o-o-o-o-oy went home to Jee-zuss!”
(even though he
was in that dope thang)
-women who get into that
graveyard love (insteada college)
-women with sweet potato
plants in their kitchen windows
-women who call you
everything but “a child o’ Gawd”…
-women who say things
women who say things
women who say things
like: “Don’t be callin’ that man no ‘Dawg’
That
man name ain’t ‘Dawg’
That
man name’ Mr. Dawg’”
(Woof-woof)
or
things like: “Hungry?!? – Ain’t no maids in here!
You best git
you summa that KARO Syrup
and a piece o’ bread –
and make like it’s a hamburger!”
or
things like: “That boy feet done growed so fast –
he tired all the time.”
or
things like: “Boy so dumb, if he was in a hurricane he’d
say
‘Why is it so windy?’”
or
things like: “Boy so slow, he cain’t even read his own
name
in
BIG GIANT BOXCAR
LETTERS!”
or
things like: “Boy so dumb, he couldn’t find a drink on
Bourbon Street…”
Insteada “Arab” they say
“A-rabb”
Insteada “spanking” they
say “whippin”
Insteada “You’re a bit
inebriated” they say “You tippin’”
Insteada “You’re acting
quite odd” they say “You trippin’”
Insteada “You’re making
quite a mistake” they say “You slippin’”
This poem is for the
people
This poem is for the
seamstresses and the waitresses
This poem is for the
teachers and the preachers
for the maids and college presidents
for the wintertime women with the summertime blues…
This is a hurricane
poem…
This poem is for Flora,
Cora, Hilda, Isabelle and Betsy
This poem is for Marilyn
and Carolyn, Yolanda and Saronda
for Zelda and Emelda, for Nina and Tina
for the lovers of life and sages of their ages
for women named “Aunt Sweet”
for Big Momma, Gran’ma, Maw-Maw and Ma Dear
for Short Fat Fanny, Wacky Jackie and BIG GREASY NEICY
for their love hugs and Daniel Green slippers
( the original weapon of mass destruction)
for Doreen’s Sweet Shop and Bertha’s Bon Ton
for Big Shirley’s and Willie Mae’s Scotch House
for Fannie Mae, Annie Mae, Ida Mae, Cora Mae, Dora Mae,
Ora Mae,
Jessie Mae, Bessie Mae
(Bessie Mae Mucho-o-o-o…)
Bay-Bay, May-May, Nee-Nay,
Noo-Nay, Shantay and Ray-Ray
for Beaulah and Eulah, Nelly and Kelley
for Linda, Lydia, Leona and Lorraine
for the cedar robes and the chiffarobes
for Caldonia, Caldonia (What-makes-yo’-big-haid-so-hard?)
This poem is for Gizelle,
Chanel, Creshell, Shantelle, Rochelle, Maybelle,
Annabelle and Florabelle
(DING-DONG)
This poem is for Imani,
Hope and Charity (where most o’ y’all was born-ded)
for Khadijah and Jemima (much more than a
picayune cartoon)
for Hannah, Anna, and Old Suzannah
(Don’t
you cry for me –
‘cause I’m
comin’ from the Ninth Ward
with a
six-pack on my knee)
for Betty, Bessy and Two-Ton Tessie
for Sharine and Jeanine (Last Time, Las Time I Saw
Jeanine…)
for our mothers, friends, aunts, sisters, and
others
-their pleasures and
treasures
-their madness and badness
-their blessings and
bereavement
-their challenge and achievement
-their silences and song
-their faith, everstrong
-their love like no otherso others
This poem is for our mothers…
* *
* * *
posted 6 September 2007 |
