My HOME, My RAGE

i am not a visitor

this is My home

this space of love

a shelter for which

i am

grateful

it is Mine

i own it

born with it

i am not a visitor

 but this home is not always

sunny

it is dark

shades drawn in fear

people falling around me

snatched

forsaken

this home has pain

in this skin

there is rage

black rage

in My home

that which you fear

is that which i have become

in My home

in My space

My temple

you bought me here

sold this body

you gave me this black rage

when you violated my space

took me from My home

brought me here

worked me

and when i screamed black rage

tearing myself from your grip

daring to reclaim my home

My space

looking for

My people

My own land

My own language

you hunted me down

beat me into submission

left me on our knees

taught me to pray

and i got trapped

in your gospel

and now you sell me from behind bars

cheap labor

another price for my body

but black rage is not a commodity

it cannot be sold to the highest bidder

you created this rage

you are the birther

now you see me dangerous

regardless of how

i decorate My home

my space

because you never set me free

when you see me

you see My anger

you want to douse that flame because it reminds you

that i may

some day

grow fat with black rage

tear down My own space

because i am afraid to tear down yours

we are not safe

she did not deserve to die

he never fought back

black rage tells me to light the match

my awareness of oppression

tells me to blow it out

for if i don’t

this is my home

My space

i am not a visitor

this is the skin 

i am in

this is my black rage

i have rights in my home

this is my space

My skin

you try to stifle me in my home

but your hidden truths come out

the sore has oozed onto

streets

exploded in our institutions

you cannot spin it in the media

now we use your gift of

black rage

against you

i know this home

this is My space

and i cannot live in darkness

aware of my karma

My humanness

your being

running from end to end

in this space

with black rage in my heart

i am thrown to the floor

i am threatened

pulled from My car

forced down in My classroom

called nigger on college campuses

i cannot breathe

My black rage

in My throat

knocking on the inside of my teeth

holding in my tears

belly tight with aggression

i scream black lives matter

i scream for the children afraid

i scream for church folk dying

in My home

in this body

how can i not be enraged

it is in these still moments

that the ancestors

swoop down from the trees

wrap their arms around me

comforting this home

this body

leading me to the light

they guide me

protect your home they say

face your rage

speak to it

so i call to you

black rage

invite you to stay

for if you leave

i may forget

why you stir

why you hover

in my home

without you

i will not say

hell no

i will not stand

in my black rage

which i have earned the right to have

this is My home

i am not a visitor

i am now the calm

inside the rage

so watch out

this rage is coming for you

Patricia R. Corbett is a MFA student at Goddard College in Plainfield,Vermont, studying Interdisciplinary Arts.She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from Virginia Union University in Richmond, VA. Patricia is a artist, storyteller, professional writer, published author, womanist, educator, and motivational speaker.  She utilizes storytelling, writing, speaking and networking to create paradigm shifts in education, business and the community. Patricia's writing and artwork takes a critical view of social, political and cultural issues through storytelling. She self-identifies as a queer black woman whose projects challenge systemic societal problems, stereotypes, conventional thought/wisdom, religion and values. Patricia's quest is to expose and uplift the stories of marginalized populations while redefining what is aesthetically beautiful.