I see the unspoken rhythm in each black urbanite steps,
The way he bops with a beat with each stride…
Maybe his music resides inside his complex soul,
Wanting, needing to be told, and yet I hear his music.
Music that brings about this rhythmic motion-this swaggering movement
I hear the resonance of his music,
Because it emanates with the emotion that comes from being a black urbanite
I hear his cries of frustration, pain, anger, rejection, hope, and despair.
His cries vibrate and tremble with velocity and power as he seeks solace from his
feelings of disempowerment,
The dislocated, the unemployed, the overlooked, the achievers, the tricksters, the
dreamer, and the rainbow makers,
These epitomize the images of the black urbanites
Images that reverberate in the black urbanites’ unspoken music.
By Simone Lyttle
The first time I read this poem, it spoke to me in so many ways. I saw my neighbors, family, friends, and fellow citizen speaking to me from this place. Such raw emotions that leaps out reverberate with a longing that comes from denied opportunities cultivated steeply in a past that now breathes fear. Soul Expression