I’ve Decided
8:46 moment of silence and remembrance, McCarren Park Gathering, July 2020.

I’ve decided to part my lips so my mouth can echo love

the type that may warm a room up

I’ve decided this may be enough for the night

for the pleasure of the sky when it lights

and the sanity of my mind.

What is my Black if not browned skin made of mud from the finest soil there is around

on the shores called home

I have never been to Haiti, or Ayiti

name the Indigenous knew

before occupied and made bankrupt

debt of pursuing freedom and justice

Why did we think they’d treat us differently in their territory?

My Dad Black skinned

My Mom Light Brown

birthed me somewhere in the middle of it all hoping on this side of the ocean we’ll get a shot at something

maybe there’s a hidden Dream somewhere

we just gotta be lucky

What is my Black if not dropping the accent of my name I forget it’s there most days

I forget where I am

My Mother’s tongue is not foreign

It’s only lost its way finding the route to my mouth

in ginger roots

soup joumou and bouillon

My Haitian is superstitions

dreams as warnings

concoctions made tea

rub oil on the feet and chest when sick

puffed pastry patties

bannann peze

maís con ti sel

coming home and finding mama Marie-Thérèse waiting for me to feed and feed and feed.

What is my Black if not care,

if not clinging to joy when it comes around

Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala, knows it may not come easy.

I find joy on lips of a woman whose touch reminds me of Earth we come from

whose hair may curl differently,

but whose meaningful stare stresses our struggles are beyond borders

I cling to this joy,

Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala, knows it may not come easy.

What is my Black if not impulse then,

if not listening to music as empathy in rhythm

if not being the best dancer but moving like I got every answer when beat drops of Konpa, Reggaeton, Hip-Hop, R&B hopping in my duffy

melodies of Ne-Yo blasting in mornings through my little ears

as my sister gets ready for high-school in the room we shared- I think, what would it mean to get that big?

To be 16

What is my Black if not looking forward to the future

that’s what they least expect

this Black is queer is

procreating life through art to save my soul

(it may be working)

is like forgetting about time like it’s all alright if God got us in Her hands of eternity where nothing too large, too great a burden shall overcome our souls

She made my skin hard to withstand the fire of the sun and soften when wet cuz trust is all we got with each other

My Mother’s tongue is not foreign.

It is finding its way.

I’ve decided my Black is to part my lips so much my mouth will echo love

the type that can warm a whole room up

I’ve decided this will be enough for the night

for the pleasure of the sky when She turns on the dim-lights

for the sanity

sanctity of my mind

I’ve decided.
['Nathalie Amazan']
['Politics', 'Poetry', 'Life', 'Haiti', 'Resistance Poetry']