poetry by robert anthony gibbons

“Alas! and am I born to this.”

I was born; I had no choice in the matter; I had no choice that my ancestors
were Southern and they came from the slave borders of South Carolina through
the migrant camps of Georgia over in Florida; it is a migration; it is a
sanctification of the Florida sun, but it is the rhythms that called me out  the
hinter lands; a blend of black bottom; teeth the color of bales of cotton; they are
packing corn in my background; they shell peas and grew collard greens; I am
born for this; in this quest of the silver fleece. 

buried beneath the double consciousness; the blunders of the middle passage;  the last
of the vestiges; I am born for this a dismissal of my humanity: the blood-stained 
banner of a crucified neck lied on my heritage, but my people came from the free.
They came from bent knees and a broken back, but they came to say Amen
and Jubilee.  They came to say yes I am born out of this mess of greens and okras mixed in
a simmering crock pot. The background lets the enemy know they will seek freedom at
any cost; will never be beneath them; will never be lost; come from the free; always
liberty; always equality.

a homage to Benjamin Brawley

“We will not have his body removed from the grave for it lies surrounded by his brave and devoted soldiers—we can imagine no holier place than that which he lies among his brave and devoted followers, nor wish him better company—what a bodyguard he has,” - from Frank Gould

for those of you who are social justice; the ones that have written from the Birmingham jail; the
bombs that fall in the church of Alabama; all the men of color behind the slammer; we know the
fires in the ghetto; the fires of Soweto and Lesotho; we know the fires in the ghetto; want let go—
want let go; for we know the midnight train; and the crucifixion of a chain gang; the criminal 

records; the pants hanging below dissension; the fires in the mission district; and if I am a stop
and frisk; and, if I am a special education; then I am at risk; then I am a ride on the yellow bus;
and I must be a behavior; useless; with all these labels; this is fire in manacles;  but we won't let 

go-we wont let go; on this mis-education of the Negro; this background reparation; I am catching
a ride with Garvey; my state seal in poverty; it’s a Mississippi and a god-dam; to the people I call
fam; have shorten it; and, sweeten like ice tea; before your political lynching bee; the fire is a
liar; in this trials of the century; names me menace and thug; boogey man and Sug; bury me 

with all my brothers; the ones the color of a dug rag; and, afro sheen; mean what I say; with this
fire in the ghetto;  if the pain just won't let go; and if I seem  disconnected ; then  the liberation
has been resurrected;  want some freedom down in Florida; then the feds have to order it; don’t
Harriet  Beecher Stowe me; this is not about docility; twain can’t Huck Fin me with Faulkner; 

because I am just as Southern; who said you hold the dialect; last I heard they called us geechee;
see we are not asking for no revival; the freedom fighter found beneath the river; we are asking
you take down your flag; we still counting all the toe tags; there will be the  preaching of Nat 

Turner; the murder of Emmett Till; we want to fill our tobacco bags; way down in Waco; Texas;
tell them about Juneteenth; we are not going to secede; this blood from the fifty-four; not a spook
by the door; but I am running with Dred Scott; name etched in the cemetery plot; do not archive
Harriet Tubman’s gun; until the race is won; it’s the fire in the ghetto and we will not let go.


Robert Anthony Gibbons  has been published in over thirty literary magazines and in several notable anthologies. Recent publication credits includes; Killens Review, Tribes, Involuntary Magazine, Peregrine, Expound, Promethean, Turtle Island Quarterly, Killer Whale, and Suisun Valley Review, Voices of Lefferts and the Bronx Memoir Project: Vol. 2 published by the Bronx Council of the Arts.

Robert Anthony Gibbons’s  first collection, Close to the Tree, published by Three Rooms Press (2012). His chapbook, Flight, published by Poets Wear Prada (2019). You Almost Home, boy, published by Harlequin Creatures (2019) with Brooklyn based artist, Amy Williams, “Some Little Words”  published 440 Gallery, Brooklyn (2021). His most recent manuscript, Whom the Higher Gods Forgot will be out early 2022.

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