i woke up
or did i
i stood up
do i
i asked myself a question
who am i
the sum of my fears
the accumulation of my tears
the weariness of my years
am i my mothers child
does her blood course through my viens
or did i spill it on the tracks at angorra terrace
is her pride my power
or did i sell mine 4 acceptance
i remember vividly my mothers walk
not her everyday stroll
the defiant stroll
the stroll she had when sporting black eyes
eyes that dammit refused to cry
in public
to hell with perception
she would say
my pride is my protection
and she would stroll like a queen
work like a fiend
and wait....until daddy slipped
u see men forgive
women never forget
my dad is getting up there now
life
strife
hard work and a stroke have diminished his bite
so to have the marks of my mothers wrath
the burns
the cuts
his body is a map of a mans stupidity
long ago i looked at his body
and said defiantly
not me
not ever
i must be better
am i
who am i
whom do you see
he has marks on his body
i have a mark on my soul
he bled out
i bleed within
he fought my mother
i fight my fathers dna
damn...why am i here
i wonder
defiant black men raised in philly
refusing 2 budge
prepared 2 die
knowing nothing of living and what love is
in a constant state of battle readiness
hell no
i should be dead
or maimed
or blamed
or shamed
or insane
who am i
5 strong
5 belong
my family creed
5 against each other and the hood
kill each other sho nuff
but you cant
the bajan blood is hot like afternoon sand
mess with us
i dare you
you know what the world says
okay we will
my blood spilled
and my soul continues 2 bleed
the war outside has become the battle within
and each day i peer into the bathroom mirror
i ask myself
who am i
a father
hell yes
proud of that title no doubt
a husband
nah..i failed at that
or should i say she and i couldnt
communicate with all of the noise
from my battle within
a battle i couldnt hope 2 win
was she a casualty of war
hell yeah..
how could she not be
because see
unlike my daddy
i didnt strike with fists or slaps
these words you read
are docile
the intent
well now that depends doesnt it
after all the mirror never lies
who am i
last night my daughter heard me cry
she came into my room
and asked why
i held her and said
men like me cry when there is no war
when we store
pain
shame
blame
when we are maimed
internally
and she gently
laid her head on my heaving chest
and said quietly
daddy
you have me
yes i do baby
i thought 2 myself
dee
not dgreaves the poet
not darwin
not the defiant one
not the failure
not the assailer
not the perpetrator
nor orchestrator
of of my demise
the mirror reflects my eyes
weary
teary
angry
hopelessly lost
the cost
who cares
and as i stare
into the mirror
i am fully aware
that i must leave my doubts
my inner fears
right here
because out there
is a world just waiting 2 define
in rather unkind
ways
who i am
who am i
who do u see
the man i am
or the man
i refuse 2 be

All Poetry by D.Greaves/Darwin Greaves by D.Greaves-Darwin Greaves is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at dgreaves.posterous.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://dgreaves.posterous.com/pages/dgreaves-tos