2Q 2024 Featured Poems

June 21, 2024

Missing

By Blanche Saffron Kabengele

Although we teach them that slavery happened,
we fail to provide the detail or historical context
they need to make sense of its origin, evolution,
demise and legacy

              – Hasan Kwame Jeffries

American history books
              buried through omission

the significance of Black history
              packed deep forgotten memories

              like what made Bart,
                            besides his hat, black,

              like the demise of Reconstruction
                            and Black Wall Street,

              like memories stored in the cellars
                            of history books

flung out Black homage toward
              making America great again,

left missing pages paged
              uneventfully between jazz

and peanuts, voided significance
              of the many contributions

toward building the riches
              of this land,

              like babies snatched
              of mothers’ nipples
              to suckle free
              sweet land less liberty,

like Black history
barred omission

Black history is American history!

The poems of Blanche Saffron Kabengele, Ph.D., have been published in several print and online publications, including East Fork: A Journal of the Arts, Verse-Virtual, For a Better World, The Rockford Review, and W-Poesis. Kabengele also has published the poetry collection Quiet as It’s Kept, Me Too, and Other Poetic Expressions of Life! (with Xlibris Publishing, 2018) and the nonfiction book Conjugal Relationships of Africans and African Americans: A Socio-Cultural Analysis (The Edwin Mellen Press, 2016).
“Missing” was previously published in For a Better World (2023). Used by permission of the author.

June 7, 2024

Reflecting on the Journey to Our Posh Vacation Rental

By Christian Skoorsmith

Sitting by, watching the kids swimming in a pool that might as well
say ‘Whites Only.’ There’s more than one way to
segregate ourselves, different kinds of gates.

We didn’t know when we booked the place;
I wonder how long until the kids notice.
The drive south was like sinking, back in time,

quicksand of a quieter kind. In Alabama we found
a roadside ‘pioneer museum.’ In acres of buildings
the only mention, the only picture of a Black body

was a book-cover praising those who fought for the South,
as if to say, by ‘pioneer’ we have something particular in mind.
Outside, we walked between old buildings sequestered and sinking, the humidity oppressive

weighed on us. From under the schoolhouse a black snake emerged like a muscle tensed,
licked the air at us. Some preternatural fear—that goes way back—
threatened our lives, until we soothed our way away. We weren’t accustomed
              to coming so close, having it right there.

It slid to its nest at the foundation, curled around its eggs, held one in its mouth ready
to save at least one damn child. Stared us down. We could see the eyes
but did not understand their blackness.

We meant no harm; backed away. Did not want to disturb.
We were only passing through, after all. In the end
we were in the car and on the road again, air conditioning and tiny

pecan pies as treats for the kids. A Taste of the South, I told them
out of both sides of my mouth. My wife understood
what I said, what we feared passing on to our children.

As we drove, I wondered how many speed traps we rode safely through
because of the paleness of our skin, because the law could not see
into our hearts—or maybe because they could and knew

we were no threat at all.

Christian Skoorsmith is a (cis-, het-, White, masculine-socialized, middle-aged) writer and mental health professional in Seattle, Washington. Much of his recent work has focused on acknowledging, understanding, and dismantling implicit and embodied white supremacy in masculine experience. Learn more about him at www.skoorsmith.com.
“Reflecting on the Journey to Our Posh Vacation Rental” was previously self-published in the chapbook Each Heartbeat a Stone (August 2023). Used by permission of the author.

May 17, 2024

I saw your sign,

By Carol A. Smith

Granddaughter, as you marched in the throng that summer
amidst screams and cries, and some silent tears.
You moved in solidarity with people of color
mourning the loss, protesting the murder of George Floyd.
Its bold red letters against an emerald background
caught my eye: I understand that I cannot understand,
but I will stand with you. Compassionate humility.

Now that the grieving time’s passed and cameras
are focused on other stories, I wonder about that sign.
Have its corners become bent and tattered from use?
Did the red paint fade to pink on other summer marches
or smudge and run during rainy-day demonstrations?
Does it stand sentinel in a dusty basement corner,
hoping for its own obsolescence, but fearing
it will be called into action next time?

Carol A. Smith is an MFA in Poetry candidate at Arcadia University. Over the past 30 years, she has taught language arts, literacy, and college composition. She writes personal and sociopolitical poems, often reflecting on the tense and unpredictable intersections of the two. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in The Last Stanza Poetry Journal, In Parentheses, Radical Teacher, Mobius: Journal of Social Change, and Sad Girl Diaries. A Philadelphia native, Carol now resides in southern New Jersey and teaches at Rowan University.

April 25, 2024

America’s Unpleasantness

By Taylor Hobby

I’m a feminine specimen
I serve genuine medicine
in my messages
emphasis on gentleness
empowering our oneness
never compare our skeletons
exodus our genesis
creating new premises
America’s unpleasantness
carelessness and recklessness
treacherous and harmful
numbing with the bottle
is this what we model
hostile environment
where’s the enlightenment
I am nonviolent
stimulant my chakras
we are like sponges
and love is wondrous
compassion and justice
isn’t so tough
so grab my hand and we’ll make it enough

Born in 1999, Taylor Hobby is openly a part of the LGBTQ+ community and uses they/them/theirs pronouns. In 2021 Hobby joined the acting company LatinX Theatre Project, which is a community-based group performing original work that uplifts and celebrates culture. Hobby was the program director for Take Space-Make Space, a youth program for the juvenile detention center, aimed at uplifting youth through poetry, hip-hop, and storytelling. Hobby also co-created Poetry & Rhythm, an open mic created to encourage the LGBTQIA+ community and other marginalized communities. Hobby was mentored by West Coast legend MURS.

April 3, 2024

Reparations

By MoPoetry Phillips

Repay me for being underpaid,
the micro aggressions,
the scathing looks,
for every time I walked away
appearing to be unscathed.
Repay me
for never accepting me
as your equal.
Repay my people,
especially our men,
for making incarceration
a slavery sequel.
Repay me for failing to promote me,
for your insubordination
when I was put in charge.
Repay me for taking credit for things I created,
the blatant disregard.
Repay me for always weighing my words on an unjust scale.
Repay me for the times you gave it to me,
but I didn’t tell you
to go to hell.
Repay me for always thinking you are right and
I am wrong.
Repay me
double overtime—
this has gone on
too long!

Repay me for feeling
I’m a threat
while threatening me with
“stand your ground.”
Repay me for every person who feared me
when I was around.
Repay me for the lack of eye contact and acting like I’m invisible.
While you say
(hand on your heart),
“One nation under God indivisible.”
Repay me for your patriotism that patronizes my Black pride.
Repay me for
racist broken systems
set against me
while my reparations are spent to get you higher rents from my neighborhoods
you gentrified.
Repay me
for the whip marks
on my ancestors’ backs,
black tax, and
police brutality.
Repay me like you’ve given reparations to other nationalities.
Repay me for the Fugitive Slave Laws that had us traveling from house to house
on the Green Book,
running Underground.
Repay me
because, even today,
there are still
Sundown towns!

This poem could go on forever
because the math ain’t mathin’ even though
I’m a Mathematician.
Consider this poem
a Demand Letter,
an invoice,
a requisition!

MoPoetry Phillips is an international spoken word artist; cofounder of Regal Rhythms Poetry LLC, which also curates Hit the Mic Cincy’s Open Mic; and president of Arts Equity Collective. She serves on the Juneteenth Cincinnati Inc. board leadership team and Friends of Harriet Beecher Stowe House board and is a Cincinnati Arts Museum standing committee member. MoPoetry Phillips has been highlighted in the Cincinnati Enquirer, The Cincinnati Herald, and Streetvibes and on Urban One Radio, WCVG, and WVXU’s Cincinnati Edition. Her passion is to unify spoken word artists to utilize their artistry to create a greater impact within the community and to connect artists to opportunities.