Newspaper Page Text
fPagt 5
November 19, 1990
Let My Woman Go
By Korby C. Marks
Let my woman go
For since the beginning of time
You’ve claimed her as your own
When she was naturally mine
Let my woman go
For you’ve stripped her from her land
You’ve denied her of her culture
And parted her from her man
Let my woman go
For she was once my queen
Now you have her in your fields
Where her beauty can’t be seen
Let my woman go
I grow weary of telling you
For when my chains are off
I’ll be after you
Let my woman go
Don’t force her into that shed
Why dbn’t you just go home
And make love to your wife instead.
Let my woman go
Leave her and my daughter be
Touch them once more
And you’ll hear your woman scream
Let my woman go
She’s a fighter and deserves to rest
Step in her path,
And there’ll be a knife in your white chest
Let my woman go
Allow her to be free
She’ll soon again regain her strength
And come back to rescue me
Let my woman go
For the plantation’s not her home
And when my woman’s free
Leave her the hell alone!
We’ve Got The Power
By Angela Glover
The strength of the black woman lies
not in the hundreds of years of pain,
of turmoil, and humiliation surpressed upon her
by the brothers of pilgrims and English teacakes.
woman lies in her ability
to manage, supjjjgrt, and deal with the black man.
In his periods of strmffa for superiority,
In his periods of ethnic conflict
In his periods of upheaval between his brothers
the strength of the Bladt woman is revealed.
m Motherhood
Leadership
Lover
Sister
A Buttri Hlekher people.
He Only Wanted To Stick IT to me.
By Kalla Spears
"My Cup Runneth Over..."
by Sekou Morrison
cup runneth over, and yet I am not
fihed
can this empty feeUng in my breast
not be kiUed - ?
1 am naive to think happiness
n always be mine
God, why hasn’t it come with the
assing of time
fact, a hving death - there is
in my eyes
ay upon my pillow and
I softly cry
ething - but for what I
ow
!nd it I’m sure I will
y pit of loneliness, sorrow, and
e, my Lord, this is one fight
can not win
just a part of the boy they
call Kou - ?
to happier feelings will I one
day be true - ?
cup runneth over, and yet I am
not full
But maybe, Lord, it would be better
for my cup to be empty and
my soul to be fuU.
He touched me last
He touched me last night until I remo'
He caressed me as if I had consented and
wound had not healed from the last. He wanted to stic.
or at least he wouldn’t be able to explain himself if I had
me...one thing about me. He can’t understand what it feel
as he sticks it to me, then he is content, even if I left n
could he? Only one night had passed. He could have d
stick it to me. His words were, "Let’s get busy." He n
me, but only assure himself that he had warned me that — * ^ UJV1V ,
trying to stop him with my silence, "What if he sticks it to me?. ; .while my eyes are closed? Will I respond to
make aware my consciousness, so that he can pump harder now that I know what is being done to me? I told
him no with my silence. I didn’t want him to stick it to me. He had no right...I hadn’t even healed the last.
He told me that he wouldn’t touch me, that it made no sense to sleep on the floor when there was plenty of room
in the bed. We were friends. He gave his word. I should have known...he only wanted to stick it to me.
deeping. In fact, fwas quite conscious.
ft respond when he asked if I was awake,
him. He wanted to stick it to me, but my
file my eyes were closed, but he couldn’t,
or^jitoeone had walked in. He doesn’t know
inot to be a u, but it doesn’t matter, as long
mt copsent."^^ may have Loved me, but how
orf lusted me, but NO, I think he just wanted to
" as if he really didn’t want to wake
to stick it to me. I thought, laying there,
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