Liberian Literary Magazine
Promoting Liberian literature, Arts and Culture
All God’s Chillum Got Wings
National Poetry Month
D. Othniel Forte
I got wings
How come I can’t fly
I sing and I sing
With dis weary voice
I do; Lort nos I try
But…..
I sang and I sang
And I made a lot of noise
To the good O Lort I cry
In the end it was only noise
Still….
In celebration of national poetry month,
we are running this piece gathered from
a couple of sources.
These days I only hum
’cuz I got no other choice
I’ve tried my darnest,
As time went by
To give God a ring
Yet….
Ever so oft, I am a lazy poet. What can I
say? Shameful right? Nah, I ain’t
ashamed to say it. I get writer’s block, I hit
the wall and nothing comes, I spend ages
staring at my screen, hoping, wishing and
anxiously praying that my mind would
unfreeze, open up, relax some and let the
vibes flow. But aint nothing more stubborn
than a writer’s mind. When it locks, hell or
high waters aint got nothing on it.
So, I have learned to do this when that
time comes. I go away from the machine
and find me a cold juice or something,
put a movie on and just binge watchthat is if I have time. If not, I take in an
episode of my favorite TV series [oh they
are way too many] and call it a night. For
some reason, the mind tends to function
better when I do.
Well as life goes at times, April 1 met me
in high spirits. I was all gleed up to
participate in as many poetry exercises
as I could muster. Little did I know my ole
boy had plans of its own. Day one ended
and I was already done with three pieces
from as many competitions. I had this
locked down. I quickly placed them into
my upcoming poetry book and NO, you
are not reading them. Did you expect to?
You’d have to wait for the book as
everyone else.
Perhaps I should share one, just not to
be mean don’t you think? Okay, here is
one.
I fluttered and strutted
I cluttered and watered
I muttered and uttered
E’re supplication I ‘new
I scrubbed and cleaned
I was even mighty good
To me master.
I done did all me chores [and more]
I prayed and forgave
Dem white folks for
Any wrong they done did me
I done did me part
However …….
I kept lookin’ up to the sky
From whence cometh no help
So, one thought persists
How come I can’t fly?
Ain’t I supposed to have wings?
I guess God done neglect
To wing them house and field negroes.
Maybe it’s like the massah saids
Niggers are good for nothin’
Negroes ain’t e’ben good for de Lort.
So if you dropped the ball a little or a lot,
don’t despair, try writing as many prompts as
you can. It’ll be fun. I’m already enjoying
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