Poetry by J. Joy "Sistah Joy" Matthews Alford
Riverboat Dreams
A white paddle-wheeled riverboat
sits at river’s edge.
Is this muddy Virginia bank
your final port of call?
How did you come to rest here
gleaming bright in morning sun
evoking memories, provoking
made-up stories and dreams
from half-asleep passersby?
How many have you seen or made real?
A chance glance from my seat
aboard the 8 am Northbound 84
permitted this momentary glimpse—
a stolen snapshot from another time and place.
How long has your wheel been stilled?
Do you long for lights and sounds of yesteryear?
Where do the dreams of a riverboat sleep?
Do they echo in time like mine
awakening ever so often
when sunlight or starry night
shine just so?
The muffled song of the tracks
signals our approach to the next town.
Water’s edge gives way to shores
lined by pines and assorted evergreens.
The Chesapeake stretches as far as the eye can see
keeping at bay a distant tree-dotted horizon.
I yield to the lull and rock of the train
and close my eyes
per chance to dream again.
Reflections of a Black Mother
Mirrors aren’t designed
To reflect what’s inside
At best they display
Superficial layers
Loveliness or ugliness
Cropped, propped and
Photo-shopped images
Exposed for those
We naively believe
Care or matter
But internalized blemishes
Fester and reflect beyond
What mere silver nitrate can capture
Gnarled and corroded viscera
Cannot contain the self-hate
Rising from insidiously implanted projections
Where even children’s images
No longer reflect innocence
So deep and inescapable is the pain
That esteem and pride
Are erased and replaced with rage
This is the shadowy abyss
In which too often Black children are raised
Although my mirror may not reflect it
This is my reflection:
Unless this legacy ends
Blemishes will fester in America’s soul
Until the day she implodes
