Due Mercy

Written after my ex-husband’s wife threatened to call the police on my daughter for screaming at her brother, making a bad joke, and her stepmother of a decade became Carolyn Bryant.

The incomparable Zora Neale Hurston.

To the White woman
who tried to call
the police on my child—

The prophets tell us
that there is
nothing new under the sun,
and because there is
nothing new under
the sun,
It is of great
and grave expectation
that Black woman
are never dumb.

But you
like me
who hold life
on the inside of you,
yet you pull death
from your mouth,
aiming at a child
who is defenseless
in this world,
whose only
recourse is to
Call the only name
she knows other
than God—

Mama.

And her roar be but
whisper to you
and hurricane wind
to me
and I will sprout up
as wings as eagles
as Isaiah spoke
about to see
where the tears
have come from.

hiding her behind me
I stand in front of her
and death daily —

You do not scare me.

I push death back
into your mouth
that you may breed
and birth it as you
and all your kin
have known to
do for centuries.
you will not devour mine.

She knows who she is
to whom she belongs
and she knows
that she is part
Of Maya’s 10,000.
Plus 1.

She has my blood in her
Divine Father on the inside
of her
and how dare you
try and stifle life
in her that has
already begun!

Because when Black women cry,
even in girlhood,
they summons
the 10,000 who will
protect her
arm her
show her the faces
of enemy from a long way off.

These ancestors which
she will take with
her always,
and as the prophet said,
there is nothing
new under the sun
In life and death
is in the power
of the tongue in
those who choose
we eat the fruit of it.

Your fruit is chosen—
curse is already on your line.

Me and mine?

We gon be just fine.

-JBHarris, 5.25.2023

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River Deep, Mountain High (Elegy for Tina Turner)

It is of the rolling of

Water in muddy rivers

That give the rebel

To the Belles along

Mississippi banks–

Give roar to what

Should have been

Whisper.

Gave power in havoc

Passion in chaos

And Anna became

Tina to tell us

How to get over

And the end of

One life is the

Gift of another.

The ancestral is God’s memory after all.

that is memory

Is gifted as

Music.

-JBHarris, 5.24.2023

Written after the passing of Tina Turner at age 83. STL KIDS CHANGE THE WORLD.

Final Reflection

This year was introspective for me.

I was forced to think about things I was scared to, while making room for myself. I think the presumption is poets will have this never-empty, never-ending reservoir to soothe or settle those that read our thoughts.

I’m always humbled for it by anyone who reads my work or is inspired by it. Sometimes the wells we pull from for others, are dug by our own hands–watered by own tears!

Yet, we write.

We create.

We serve. Make no mistake: a poet is a servant. Perhaps this is why Baldwin said it is a horrible tragedy when a nation ceases to produce poets.

The poet remembers what everyone else forgets—and gives light when all is lost. On this, perhaps, hangs humanity.

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 23: Ghosts

What do I do

Now when what you

Left me with

Haunts me…

And with all resolve

As faith gives

I send it back to

You.

The love was mine—this is mine.

I give this back to you!

I will not leave you to rest!

When it calls to you

from the depths of

what you thought

was dead

to quicken you

with kisses warm

and love a deep

reminding you of just

what you held on

for the glimpses of

future hidden in

past if I were

To just give you

more time

“You know

I love you

You know

she cannot be

what you are to me…”

Wait for me

you are my heart

love of my life…

there’s a chance

wake me from

summer willing my heart

to start all over again

so the wedding

won’t be so hard

this time perhaps

-JBHarris, July 2021

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 13: Our Hours

Note: This piece will be in THE DEATH OF PETER PARKER & OTHER FAIRY TALES (August 2023).

In the myriad of hours

that I count since

counting you

as part of my hours

And days taking

your smile

your laugh

your joys

into all considerations

I wonder

is there ever truly room

for me in your hours

And days

to be counted

important among?

Counted enough

to be worthy

to be chosen.

From the pondering

I find myself wanting…again

-JBHarris, December 2021

30 Days Of Jaye – Day 11: I’m Feelin Him

A crush can crush you,

so I’m feeling him

I’m feeling him like Christmas morning like when your edges lay just right like

the best shade of red lipstick to get peoples attention

and also to know

that you’ not playing… I’m feelin him

I’m feelin him and

how I watch him walk into a room and hush comes over it

I’m feelin’ him

like I want to get to know him with

all his clothes on first

I’m feelin’ him

like I could know him for ever,

and he already knew me forever

like time got our name on it

Like I’m feelin him

intrigue and inquiry and intelligence coursing all through me as

thoughts of him and I

and him and me

and this thing called us

And together… I’m feeling him

The butterflies in my belly

Find their way to my chest

So my heart remembers it

Can beat.

And with this becomes

a rhythm that my lips

find smile for

and hold to that same

3/4 time

I’m feeling him…

Damn.

I just might want him to be mine.

-JBHarris, 4.2.2023

Part 4: “Anything You Can Do, I Can Write Better”

The written word will always have power. No matter if it is in pen and paper, light in screen, or pencil etchings, and a notebook. As long as human beings have the power to record their own narratives, there will always be two sides to every story!

for the cars, it is essential that we understand just how important gatekeeping of language is, that language will still always invite intimacy, and it is important for minority people to have their story told as well.

it is for the want to control the narrative that Christ was made white, right?

as long as I as a writer, who identifies as black and female, have the resources at the ready to tell my story? I am going to tell it! I’m going to tell it because it needs to be told. There is an intimacy that goes along with this black, female experience that can only be reconciled, and understood by other Black people, and especially other black women. My language lends itself to, and towards that intimacy and experience!

If you take my words for me, you are actively engaging in my erasure! just because you can use a word that is used by people in a community that you are ingratiate it in, that you grew up around, does not mean you have the freedom to use that language, those words in a contacts reserve just for the people in that community and experience!

It’s deeper than, “You can’t say that.“

You can’t say that because you haven’t lived that.

Part 2- “Why I Say That…”

Language will always yield intimacy and influence.

There is and must be a level of recognition that goes along with language. This goes deeper than why you can’t say that.

What is often not seen or noticed in these discourses is how essential these two things are: experience and context.

In this digital age, so much is lost but the most crucial is intimacy. It is this knowledge which determines the effect of language in situations and people.

You can’t say what I say because you don’t have experience and context. I believe that this is a reason why language is often referred to in a feminine context–things with feminine attributes are capable of growth or change.

Toni Morrison said that language is the measure of our lives. Perhaps this is so because it provides links to past, context to present and perspective to future.

Part 1: “You Can’t Say That!”

I am a believer there is a gatekeeping to language.

That gatekeeping is powered by experience and by preference. This is why saying one word in the company of people you know, and people you don’t know will have different results.

This is why nicknames for certain people only apply to certain intimate circles, will get you fought outside of them.

Gatekeeping of language is a tightrope for writers, but it is a necessary one! It is how we convey thoughts, reconcile written conflict, and make our experiences visible!

When I as a writer whom has the intersecting identities of Black, woman, and writer say, “you can’t say that” I am saying you–whom may not be Black, woman or writer–do not have the authority or lived experience to comment on what I know to be true of my own life.

You can’t say that corresponds to three things:

1.) Violation of boundary. If I asked you not to say something, and you do–that’s a violation.

2.) Ignorance of meaning. You really have no idea what you said and why it’s problematic.

3.) Implied intimacy. There are certain words that are only applicable if you are born into a culture, not just immersed in it.

One of the secret jobs of a writer is to preserve language, which allows a portion of culture to continue. Some things, just aren’t for you. And never will be.

Miniseries Overview: “You Can’t Say That!”

Reference The Writers’ Block Podcast Episode 95, published on February 23, 2023.

As one who happily identifies as a Black writer, language is both color, tool and canvas. There are certain things I as a Black writer will say, do, and use which go along with that experience. Moreover, people whom are non-Black will not get away with those same vehicles.

For this second miniseries of this year, I am going to break down what this phrase means, and why (in certain instances), this a farce.

Part 1: March 4

“You Can’t Say That”

Part 2: March 11

“Why I Say That”

Part 3: March 18

“You Can’t Get Like Me”

Part 4: March 25

“Anything You Can Do, I Can Write Better”

Language is power, and power is language.

Here we go.