Margie Shaheed
The Moody Muse
Everything I Need Is In My Bag
A Sonata for Black Families
The Moody Muse
Like a basket weaver,
I sit pensively in the marketplace
of my dining room, hand picking words.
My smooth brown fingers
rummage through the heap of sound
piled at my feet, weaving bright hues
and alluring textures, enticing me—each sound—
vying to become part of my prized basket.
Fussier words pique my curiosity
with differences
between their denotative and connotative meanings.
I am perplexed, when a pronunciation
or syllabic formation disturbs the rhythm
and meter of my pattern.
Meticulously and happily,
I dig into the mound.
I choose a ribbon, a color, a sound, a word,
and then another,
until slowly, steadily, and surely
my basket takes shape.
When it is complete,
I place it high up on the china cabinet.
I step back with folded arms to get a better
view of woven sound.
As my eyes scrutinize its intricate design,
I wonder if it will sell at the square today.
When I arrive, the market goers rush to my stand.At other times, words hold me prisoner.
Language, the weight of a thousand
sound barriers, bind chains
around my hands and feet.
I sit reticent, in the cell of my dining room, deaf—
waiting for a visitor to call. But, no one comes.
I see ringing, the shape of the letter O,
I see ringing, the shape of the letter O,
it’s grey silence drapes my isolation.
My pen and paper only arms’ length away,
mock my inability to liberate the poem living inside of me.
They improvise a dance in celebration of their hiatus.
And, I am convinced, the sun is complicit in my captivity,
for as it filters in through the window’s vertical blinds,
it casts bars upon my body,
bars that lock me in a quintessential spin.
When night falls, the moon guards my dreams.
I dream of being strung up in the square for all to see,
without sound—naked—I am shunned.
Everything I Need Is In My Bag
I said everything I need in in my bag
My bag is a good badass bag
My bag is black is white
My bag is light is insight
my bag is tight
you know what I mean
my bag is right for me
My bag is badEverything I need is in my bag
I said everything I need is in my bag
My bag is smooth lays right on my side
so when I rise I don’t have to hide cuz
my bag is a fearless bag is a sparkling bag
is a BOO
I see clear through you bag
My bag is blueEverything I need is in my bag
I said everything I need is in my bag
My bag is a dip and a flip is a JuJu music
water bag. My bag is a spiritual jazz
rappin’ bag is a gospel clapin’ bag
My bag is a stompin’ bag
is a new age frontier bag
My bag is a heathen bag forgin’
ahead lookin’ for a place to squat bag
My bag is hotEverything I need is in my bag
I said everything I need is in my bag
My bag is a shot in the arm bag
is a crackweed bag is a empty
refrigerator bag my bag is cold
I mean my bag is hot like project heat
my bag is wet where honeysweet
greets and meets my thighs
My bag is a sure betEverything I need is in my bag
I said everything I need is in my bag
My bag is a childishly grown bag
is a 9mm bag is a will shoot you in yo back bag
is a leapin’, beepin’, steepin’, tea bag
don’t pull the trigga
my bag is a
don’t you hear me talkin’ to you nigga bag?
Down on the ground and don’t look around
My bag is sharpEverything I need is in my bag
I said everything I need is in my bag
My bag is a shitty glittery bag
is a nervous breakdown bag
is a crystal ball will voodoo you bag
I mean, don’t ask me to leave the room bag
if you gon’ do some magic bag cuz
I want to do some magic too
My bag is jitteryEverything I need is in my bag
I said everything I need is in my bag
My bag is prepared to look
life straight in the eye bag
is a shout out to the moon bag
is a looney bag
My bag is a menopause on a pendulum bag
Swingin’ back and forth
Swingin’ back and forth
my bag is a red bloody bag
My bag is deepEverything I need is in my bag
I said everything I need is in my bag
My bag is a fast bag
is a flippin’, flappin’ flighty bag
is an elusive bag
is a rationally irrational bag
My bag is an imaginative bag
is a closely and loosely
related to reality bag
My bag is on pointEverything I need is in my bag
I said everything I need is in my bag
And, everything you need is in yo bag
A Sonata for Black Families
(for Bobbi)
Black Family
Celebrate for you are the spark,
a watermark
the essential pulse of earth’s drum,
it hums your significant songs.
temple of frankincense,
the music, your story
a fragrant note,
manifest magical spells.It’s sound, a powerful musical potion,
the terrain, a prosperity of soul,
vibrates in landscaped memory,
a foundation of creation
shaped into a place where
everything has music
everything is music
right down to the grittiest bone.Black Family
your shadow, possibilities’ dream
music of godliness
booming crescendo
a world religion
a never-ending fermata
Awakened to the essence of your truest spirit.