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  Haydee R. Souffrant


​Musings:
A Blog of Works and Thoughts in Progress
​
​All work + writings posted on this blog are copyrighted.

the things i fear

8/9/2018

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when the night comes
the fears come on.
the breathless heap of things asked of me
the fear, once mirror, now a siren.

i fear the courage that had wrapped me
in the boldness of myself.
i fear the longing i deny for the things
that close in.

i fear the wakefulness of the dreams
i cannot bury
that instead claw themselves to the
eyes blinked open.

i fear the joy that comes
when my skin darkens in the sun
"don't get too black, for they won't love you"
the terror that comes.

i fear the rapture
that takes over, when my hands hold
myself,
deeply.
wholly.
holy.

i fear the fear
has no home in this body
and the fear
has feared me back.

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Aint No/Shade/On Dis Side

5/17/2017

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Ain't no/ shade/ on dis side/ of the water/
            Ain't no/ shade/ on dis
 side/ of the water/
They came alone.
They came together
in pairs
in clusters
buzz
            buzz
                  buzz

tap tap tap tap tap
I'm with you but they're somewhere else.
Ain't no/ shade/ on dis side/ of the water/
            Ain't no/ shade/ on dis
 side/ of the water/
This sun makes it hard to see my little life
He couldn't survive the night
Rolling down the hill
precarious steps
I want to lead
I don't know you
              why are you so far behind
Ain't no/ shade/ on dis side/ of the water/
             Ain't no/ shade/ on dis side/ of the water/
Is this the side that looks the best
one two three four five six
the birds brought some dance to the scene.
I picture you picturing the water
Hoping that this place looks just as different
            As everywhere else.
No silence but the blue.
No silence but the heat.
Cause ain't no shade on this side of the water
                      Ain't no shade on this side of the water...
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Why We Dance (For the Brown Kids, Weird Kids, Lost Ones, and the Ones In/Between)

2/25/2017

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We dance to shake dem woes
that be terrorizing we sleep. 
Lord dem woes become louder than 
da blood beat of our people.

We dance cause we scared. 
Scared that the boogie white knight
gon come get us in da dark. 
Even though we see them, 
and they know it. 

We dance cause we mourn. 
Our kinfolx dead or lost.
But we gotta shake off we tears
before they see. 

We dance cause we still alive-
ever searching for one more thing to
our belief to. 

We dance to live for yet another moment
​while we still can. 
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They'll Always Come.

1/28/2017

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A response piece to our Muslim families currently banned and torn from us.
--One by one
they throw the bodies in.
Never looking over the ironclad money built towers
to see the faces.
An old auntie once told me that if they come for them,
they'll come for us
cause they always come.
When they fear the tides of change-
that KKKKKRAACK! from Oya's whip-
they'll come.
Where they fear the magic of the she-
whether gifted or crafted,
earth made or self made,
they'll come.
When they hear the roars of the mother languages of homelands they'll never know,
they'll come.
When they see who carries the people-
the tired, the lost, the dark, the foreign, the dwellers inbetween,
they'll come.
When they wonder how to steal our essence and kill our life to sell,
they'll come.
When they see the cloaks of those who sing love songs to God(e)
with "Inshallah"
best believe they'll come.
And when they do,
it will be under the guise of salvation.
The mask of greatness.
The cancer of whiteness on high alert of the fear of no longer
knowing what home looks like
cause they done forgot to praise their ancestors the first time around
so they make sure to kill ours.
They'll come when their frightened.
But they'll come for them first.
They'll come for your brother miles away.
Then they'll come for your school teacher.
Then they'll come for your neighbor.
But by then, after the bodies are thrown in
You know you will be next.
And then you'll wonder how you ever forgot that they'll always come.
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Envious Roots

1/27/2017

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It's taken me 27 years to truly understand what envy really means.
But lemme tell you I still haven't gotten to the bottom of it but I know where it starts.

It is a weed.
One that you have to time, after time, after time learn to pull out of your earthen body. Where you, down on your knees, have to pray to God and ask that she forgive you and risk telling the Holy Father all that is wrong within you so that you no longer carry it alone.
Why you can’t love as you thought you should.
Why you aren’t in center of the fold.
Why you aren’t the center of the fold.
Why you aren’t their dying breath.
Why they don’t ache from the lost memories of you.
Envy
Is that deep longing
For what you already have, thinking that it looks better in someone else’s house.
Envy is the fog that keeps you from seeing the beauty in the chaos, the swirls of God mixing her spoon in she pot. Letting it simmer.
And you instead grew hungry from the gnawing sensation that you just gotta have it.
Now.
Yesterday.
Ages ago.
Envy is the rushing of what looks like gold
but turned out to really be dust.
A film over the dreams you tossed to snatch someone else’s.
Envy takes a long time to clean out of your house,
but is so easy to let it settle in.


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    HR Souffrant

    Sometimes writing gets the better of me, but it's often showed the rougher pieces.

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