Personal

Brown, a poem

Does my dark skin frighten you?

Do I resemble midnight to you?

Pores so dark under light, they look blue.

Does my kinky hair frustrate your mind?

Why’s it so big and curly all the time?

Are you upset that when I shake my head it remains neat

Instead of cascading down the walls of my cheeks like Niagra Falls’ peak?

I am not my hair, but I wear it proud like my Crown.

I no longer run from rain drops, I reign and the pain stops – it turns my frown upside down

And there you find, my smile.

My teeth are perfect. Every one perfectly positioned.

I shine them and they glisten;

Never had a need for braces, might I mention…

And the melody that seeps from my lips speaks so loud that all must listen

“My you have a beautiful smile.” They say

“I know.” And still I pray

That in some form and in some way

I could transform and be reborn in your ways

Body made of straight lines and just shy of the ideal weight

Wealth flowing through my blood lines that make the perfect introduction to the ideal mate;

Isn’t that the ideal trait?

Thin waist and checks & balances that keep filet mignon on my plate

But wait…

In my reality, my beauty doesn’t seem to fit

The stereotypical prototypes and all that comes with

My high speed signal seems to be larger than the world’s bandwidth

So I venture off into the unknown, both wings erect and not a last look at home

I leave this place in search of where I belong

And there I find Jesus, the welcome mat to my throne.

He calls me closer than close, because I dared to double his dose

Surrendered to my Heavenly Host and now Heaven’s my Host

And I boast of Him boastfully – You might say I do the most

Not that it’s a competition but other God’s don’t even come close

I mean, Shall we cast a vote?

Who’s greater than My God? None!

Which one of your American Idols can do for you what God has done?!

I begin to speak and the lies of the enemies get weak

They told me I can’t but I know he can so I let my victories speak

The will of God reigns down from Heaven and pours out my mouth like a leak

I’m strong – not weak!

The voices of the naysayers fade to black like a stadium with no players

I’ve learned to auto tune out the shouts of anyone whose not my maker

I hold the microphone and I won’t drop it nor waiver

I’m sitting pretty in position with all this melanin flavor

The announcer on the speaker is getting stronger – not weaker;

I’m seated above the clouds not in the crowds on the bleachers

The hand of God has opened doors that no man can close because the Lord is my keeper

And these wings, these butterfly, eagle things

Supernatural transformative change bringing wings

Not made of feathers but built to weather whichever storm comes to tether this Queen

Can you feel my sting?

I am the bride of Christ. The Earth is my ring.

That’s why it’s round

So even the lost can be found

Even the insane mind is made sound

Because The Grace of Love abounds

His Grace is all around

And it sees no color

Hello, Mr. President, you too are my brother

Don’t dare attempt to treat me like the others

We come from the same dirt and call the same Earth, ‘Mother’

Don’t be frightened because my complexion is darker when instead you can be enlightened by the directions of the Father

It may be my voice that finally silences the war in your head

And it’s the blood of my Lord that flows through you though you be The Walking Dead

Has anyone heard what I’ve said?

Why are we who have been set free to live eternally living life walking dead?

No wonder they’re all afraid.

Death can’t do nothing for nobody, but Life can.

Dare to come alive In Christ? Or are you still scared?

Shall the church say, “Amen.”

I am Eryka

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