domingo, 16 de junio de 2013

"On Coming from a Broken Home" by the late Gil Scott-Heron

                        I

I want to make this a special tribute
To a family that contradicts the concepts
Heard the rules but wouldn't accept
In addition, women-folk raised me
In addition, I was full grown before I knew
I came from a broken home

Sent to live with my grandma down south
When my uncles was leaving
And my grandfather had just left for heaven
They said and as every-ologist would certainly note
I had no strong male figure right?

But lily Scott was absolutely not your mail order room service type cast black grandmother
I was moved in with her; temporarily, just until things were patched,
'Til this was patched and 'til that was patched
Until I became at 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 10
The patch that held lily Scott who held me and like them 4
I became one more and I loved her from the absolute marrow of my bones
And we was holdin' on,
I come from a broken home

She had more than the five senses
She knew more than books could teach
And raised everyone she touched just a little bit higher
And all around her there was a natural sense
As though she sensed what the stars say what the birds say
What the wind and the clouds say
A sensual soul and self that African sense

And she raised me like she raised 4 of her own
And I was hurt and scared and shocked when lily Scott left suddenly one night
And they sent a limousine from heaven to take her to god, if there is one.
So I knew she had gone
And I came from a broken home

                      II

And so my life has been guided
All the love I needed was provided
And through my mothers sacrifices I saw where her life went
To give more than birth to me, but life to me
And this ain’t one of the clichés about black women being strong
Cause hell if you’re weak, you’re gone
But life courage determined to do more than just survive
And too many homes have a missing woman or man
Without the feeling of missing love
Maybe they are homes that are hurt
But they are no real lives that hurt without reach
But not broken
Unless the homes of soldiers – stationed overseas
Or lost in battles or broken
Unless the homes of firemen, policemen, construction workers,
seamen, railroad men, truckers, pilots
Who lost their lives – but not what their lives stood for...
Because men die, men lose, they are lost and they leave
And so do women ...
I came from what they called "a broken home"
But they ever really called it "a house"
They would have known how wrong they were
We were working on our lives and our homes
Dealing with what we had, not what we didn’t have
My life has been guided by women
But because of them – I am the man.
God bless you mama – and thank you.

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