This Is Not a Small Voice

My writing is in hiding.

Not really, I suppose it’s been plenty exposed on here, but recently some of the work I’ve been doing has been feeling shy. I’ve been trying to put the final touches on some pieces to be submitted for publication or read at open mics. So I’ve been reminding these pieces that they’re potentially about to be put out for the world to see and judge and possibly reject, but in the meantime they prefer to keep to themselves. It’s like my writing is a stripper, about to proudly step out on stage and let the world see her body in its most natural, most vulnerable state, but if you catch her in her dressing room before she’s ready, she’ll gasp, cling to her robe, and politely ask you to let her have this moment to herself.

So instead of my own work, today I’m going to share a poem by someone who inspires me, Sonia Sanchez.

This is not a small voice

you hear          this is a large

voice coming out of these cities.

This is the voice of LaTanya.

Kadesha. Shaniqua. This

is the voice of Antoine.

Darryl. Shaquille.

Running over waters

navigating the hallways

of our schools spilling out

on the corners of our cities and

no epitaphs spill out of their river mouths.

-

This is not a small love

you hear          this is a large

love, a passion for kissing learning

on its face.

This is a love that crowns the feet with hands

that nourishes, conceives, feels the water sails

mends the children,

folds them inside our history where they

toast more than the flesh

where they suck the bones of the alphabet

and spit out closed vowels.

This is a love colored with iron and lace.

This is a love initialed Black Genius.

-

This is not a small voice

you hear.

©Sonia Sanchez 1999, from Shake Loose My Skin, Beacon Press Books

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