Bev was my best friend. Although she lived on the opposite end of my block in West Philadelphia, where I was born and raised, our paths never crossed until I was in my late teens. I was the smart kid who got teased a lot and kept to myself. She got the nickname Queen B because she would walk around the neighborhood like she was royalty. She was always laughing and would strut down the street with her hands on her hips, and it seemed to me that she never let what anyone else thought about her, bother her.

I was the smart, quiet teenager with hardly any friends, and she was the loud, charismatic, funny popular one with lots of personality, and introduced me to the cool people on the block. When I was hanging with Bev, I felt popular and protected. She wouldn’t let anyone say anything bad about me and my Mom treated her like family. My brothers were DJs so there were always turntables set up in our basement, and Bev and I and whoever else came over from the block would put on our favorite albums and sing, drink beer and laugh. She wanted to be a star and she had such a beautiful light within her. We lost her at the age of 40 and I now carry her light within me. Each time I walk on a stage, I think of her and this is one of the poems I wrote in remembrance.  Happy heavenly birthday Bev!

I Remember You (basement duet for Queen B)
 
We sang into West Philly-bred microphones
Scents of stale beer and cigarettes floating under our basement borne concerts
Roberta Flack
Natalie Cole
Teena Marie
They were us we were we and we were free
Imagining concert halls filled with fans gasping for gardenia scented motions of us
We danced swaying under water pipes and wooden rafters
Dressed in summer swag, tossing braids and permed ponytails while we bumped hips and dipped knees
We were stars on the dust filled unfinished basement stage
It was all we knew
We were inseparable until you strayed
We went our separate ways
You succumbed to painful nights soaked in old men calling for you to dance again
Asking for alley romance and offering snow dust dreams and green smoke behind masks
You danced to stale music with no voice
Now you’re gone and with you our Webster street duet
Yet
I still hear you
We walk together in a parallel universe
Pushing my stroller under the suburban sunshine
I think of my sister pushing through the door at the crack of dawn
Both rising to meet our children
Both trying to define success in the way we could see
Yet
I still see you 
 
Walking alone waiting on the bus stop in clothes wrinkled in the scent of cigars and whiskey
As I secure the seat belt of my luxury car at the corner of my single home
We both sit cloaked in sadness
I walk with you though you don’t see my journey
Resting in the sorrow of acceptance that I could not save you from yours
I remember you
I see you
I carry you
I sing for you
I write for you
I swing my hips for you
I inhale smoke filled rooms and sip beer through a straw for you
I plant my feet and grab the mic in remembrance of you
You support me
I carry you
I love you
I remember you
I REMEMBER YOU
 
12/11/15  © M. Tonita Austin aka Toni Love