Poetry by Farah Lawal Harris

Posts tagged “economy

Incognito


at night, i feel hesitant
about the confines
of tomorrow’s business suit.
i’d rather be barefoot
or better yet swimming,
traveling laps as i count
the waves of the sea.
but we don’t always get what we want,
do we?
my pinstripes are jail stripes
and i wish to break free
but it’s hard to wave goodbye to benefits
with today’s economy.
so to my cubicle cell i report early in the morning,
knowing that the stars will soon come
and i will join my nebulous family
in the galaxy–
we will soar past impossibility,
bursting in the heavenly skies to be seen
by everybody.
right now i am discrete
as to not alert those around
that they have a comet in their midst.
i keep a low profile, smiling politely
all the while knowing that when evening comes
i might be flying…
in my dreams i am climbing,
eyes closed because even i
am not yet adjusted to the shining.
i am stepping on the footstools of regularity,
grabbing onto the rope of extraordinary,
making my home high up in the atmosphere
and saying goodbye to everything
that rests here.

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Black in America


is blackness a curse?
they’re trying to kill us.
the darker brother and sister are put on display
like slaves
in an open market.
they’re trying to kill us,
letting us choose our own death
whether it’s how we ingest, protect, or have sex,
it all results in the same effect.
Uncle Sam is the overseer,
lashing us with the whip of the economy,
sugar cane is liquor and weed,
cotton and tobacco is money,
our diet is poison
and we are our biggest enemies.
we are trying to kill us.
is blackness a curse?
a voodoo magic trick
to be put on display for the world?
as much as and as often as i
would like to deny
connection to what is plaguing us,
i can’t.
i am part of the family put up for sale today
and there’s no possibility of hiding,
my dark skin gives me away
and there’s no way to move past
calls from bill collectors every day
so i too am a slave,
moving between the field and the house,
moving between my dreams and security,
between reality and fantasy,
fighting the notion
that blackness is a disease.
but perhaps we are airborne
because parts of us spread into society…
we all breathe
in the blackness,
breathe out the oppression,
breathe
in the beauty,
breathe out the lessons,
breathe
in the answers,
breathe out the question:
is blackness a curse?