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Spoken Word: “Y”

by | Jun 28, 2021

Rising Davidson senior, Chibuike “ChiChi” Odo shared his spoken word poem at the Juneteenth Celebration. We are honored that he shared it with News of Davidson to share with our readers.

 

 

My mama always said that “Y” has a BIG mouth and very LONG tail

That the tales that “y” tells are like unfinished stories that fly off the shelves

That “Y” is the best-selling author to empty books that sell because we want so bad to fill in the blanks ourselves

Imagine imaginations running on the elliptical, burning calories with circular thinking

Training their whole lives to track down ellipses for answers at the end of “dot” “dot”

Dotted lines that ask us to agree to terms and conditions we frankly never signed up for

Life is a lot like reading over a fresh set of MAD LIBS

An outlined story with holes as deep as a wishing well, we throw our time, effort, pennies into this pit because we hoping that God is listening to our prayers for a pencil

Because if we just had some graphite, some erasers, a time machine we would

Rewrite the settings, crop out the conflicts, and pick out a better plot

We would stop  staring into these blank spaces that takes us to the Moon and back,

Buzz Lightyear’s infinity and beyond

Sometimes beyond words for the silence that seems to scream inside these vacant lines likea

Surround system that sounds like the answers we can’t find

Clarity so we ask again in case we read BAD LIPS

But its loud and clear that life’s MAD LIBS often come with SAD TWISTS

Like I had this, but I lost it

Like I once was, but now I’m has been

Time has stolen, COVID has stolen, injustice has stolen,  and the present words have spoken over me have lasted

Long enough to let the past win

So I can’t help but askin God “Y”

Why aren’t we back to normal?

Why did they have to die?

Why right now?

Why doesn’t freedom feel as free some days?

Why isn’t every mountain brought low and every valley exalted?

Why am I like this?

My voice, my lips– why don’t I feel comfortable in my own/black skin?

Why can’t I see you?

Why is all I see suffering and selfishness, why is human trafficking, poverty, and homelessness a thing

Why, if you control the weather does it earthquake, landslide,

rain cats and dogs drops and claws that only leave question marks on the good as to why the evil are just given Umbrellas

Because It won’t stop raining and I could really use one of those umbrellas right now because

Y has a BIG mouth and he spits when he talks

a very long tail so that I can’t see the tail end to all of my questions on this side of Heaven

(Which is hard because) I question Y, but time has also taught me to take y

Two hands lifted in surrender, feet firmly planted to ask three more things

God grant me the serenity to accept that who, what, when, where and Y are in the palm of your hands and I am there too.

God grant me the courage to turn Y into “why not” “Why can’t these hands, wrestle,work, realize that they can bring about change in the alphabetic order of things because it’s the Idle hands never stretched wide enough identify the questions worth asking

So lastly God I’m asking that with serenity, courage, and the sum total of all of my questions that you grant me the knowledge, the grace, and  the wisdom to know the difference

My mama always said that “Y” has a BIG mouth and very LONG tail

That the tales that “y” tells are like unfinished stories that fly off the shelves

That “Y” is the best-selling author to empty books that sell because we want so bad to fill in the blanks ourselves

Imagine imaginations running on the elliptical, burning calories with circular thinking

Training their whole lives to track down ellipses for answers at the end of “dot” “dot”

Dotted lines that ask us to agree to terms and conditions we frankly never signed up for

Life is a lot like reading over a fresh set of MAD LIBS

An outlined story with holes as deep as a wishing well, we throw our time, effort, pennies into this pit because we hoping that God is listening to our prayers for a pencil

Because if we just had some graphite, some erasers, a time machine we would

Rewrite the settings, crop out the conflicts, and pick out a better plot

We would stop  staring into these blank spaces that takes us to the Moon and back,

Buzz Lightyear’s infinity and beyond

Sometimes beyond words for the silence that seems to scream inside these vacant lines likea

Surround system that sounds like the answers we can’t find

Clarity so we ask again in case we read BAD LIPS

But its loud and clear that life’s MAD LIBS often come with SAD TWISTS

Like I had this, but I lost it

Like I once was, but now I’m has been

Time has stolen, COVID has stolen, injustice has stolen,  and the present words have spoken over me have lasted

Long enough to let the past win

So I can’t help but askin God “Y”

Why aren’t we back to normal?

Why did they have to die?

Why right now?

Why doesn’t freedom feel as free some days?

Why isn’t every mountain brought low and every valley exalted?

Why am I like this?

My voice, my lips– why don’t I feel comfortable in my own/black skin?

Why can’t I see you?

Why is all I see suffering and selfishness, why is human trafficking, poverty, and homelessness a thing

Why, if you control the weather does it earthquake, landslide,

rain cats and dogs drops and claws that only leave question marks on the good as to why the evil are just given Umbrellas

Because It won’t stop raining and I could really use one of those umbrellas right now because

Y has a BIG mouth and he spits when he talks

a very long tail so that I can’t see the tail end to all of my questions on this side of Heaven

(Which is hard because) I question Y, but time has also taught me to take y

Two hands lifted in surrender, feet firmly planted to ask three more things

God grant me the serenity to accept that who, what, when, where and Y are in the palm of your hands and I am there too.

God grant me the courage to turn Y into “why not” “Why can’t these hands, wrestle,work, realize that they can bring about change in the alphabetic order of things because it’s the Idle hands never stretched wide enough identify the questions worth asking

So lastly God I’m asking that with serenity, courage, and the sum total of all of my questions that you grant me the knowledge, the grace, and  the wisdom to know the difference

 

See more photos of ChiChi and others at the Juneteenth Celebration in our special gallery

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