by Jacquese Armstrong
If you hear the dogs, keep going. If you see the torches, keep going. If there’s shouting after you, keep going. Don’t ever stop. Keep going. If you want a taste of freedom, keep going. —Harriet Tubman
i hear her last instructions
trumpet-blaring
keep going
no matter what
but i got hellhounds
on my trail and the blue intrusive rain falls
daggers/each drop
a deadly reminder
(keep moving)
found a murky freedom-filled river to
wash away my scent
fell in the clayed mud dried
on my skin but
i keep runnin
labyrinth times 100
circles running endless
closed latched doors
shouts from open windows plague
an already worry-soaked mind
the wind is not
my friend
i don’t concentrate on trees
i follow deep blue black skies’
Star tellin me
hope
freedom
tomorrow
tomorrow and tomorrow
and tomorrow
should i stop today i’ll be
eaten alive
so i will walk/run/crawl
‘cause i hear the warning in her staccatoed voice
pulling my war torn body
KEEP GOING
the hollowed deepness of night
don’t upset me
‘cause i know
morning will come
i got nowhere to stay
KEEP GOING
don’t upset me
‘cause i know
morning will come
i got nowhere to stay
KEEP GOING
angular pain
and diagonal circumference
synapses not communicating
and the laugh/cry thing
is strapped on my back
KEEP GOING
KEEP GOING
KEEP GOING
her pounding voice echoes a refrain in my timid ears
rest…
in the morning
when joy comes
rest
in the morning
when joy comes
rest
in the morning
when joy comes
and then
i hear the last skeleton
words callin out my head
…keep going
if you want a taste of freedom
keep going…
Photo: Shutterstock
Jacquese Armstrong is an emerging writer/poet residing in Central New Jersey. Her poetry has appeared in Black Magnolias Literary Journal, BLACKBERRY: a magazine, Linden Avenue Literary Journal and BlackMentalHealthNet.com.
and diagonal circumference
synapses not communicating
and the laugh/cry thing
is strapped on my back
KEEP GOING
KEEP GOING
KEEP GOING
her pounding voice echoes a refrain in my timid ears
rest…
in the morning
when joy comes
rest
in the morning
when joy comes
rest
in the morning
when joy comes
and then
i hear the last skeleton
words callin out my head
…keep going
if you want a taste of freedom
keep going…
Photo: Shutterstock
Jacquese Armstrong is an emerging writer/poet residing in Central New Jersey. Her poetry has appeared in Black Magnolias Literary Journal, BLACKBERRY: a magazine, Linden Avenue Literary Journal and BlackMentalHealthNet.com.
