harvest of hurt

A Poem Inspired By Kendrick Lamar's Opposites Attract

I was listening to Kendrick Lamar’s song “Opposites Attract,” which dives into the paradoxes of love and hurt, and it got me thinking about my recent essay on my complicated relationship with my dad. In the spirit of Lamar’s raw and introspective style, I’ve crafted a poem that mirrors the conversational theme.

My poem imagines a conversation between a gardener and their garden, reflecting on the frustrations and hidden sustenance found in their relationship. It’s about the give-and-take in our connections and how, even when things don’t turn out as we hoped, there can be a quiet kind of nourishment and growth. It’s a dialogue about patience, struggle, and the often-overlooked value in the work we put into relationships. And who knows …. it might even sound fire on a beat.

Photo by Neslihan Gunaydin on Unsplash

We tend to gardens that never bloom,
But we ripen in the space where we make the room. Sometimes
We hurt people that love us, love people that hurt us,
Hurt people.

And so the gardener said:
"Why won't you ripen?
Why don't you ever let me be a titan?
Why I gotta wait with empty hands,
After tilling all this land, so hungry and so frightened?
Tell me why the fuck your fruit ain't never sweet.
Why I got a garden, but I'm steady eating meat?
Why do I pour into your roots, and bleed over these shoots,
Only to find you giving less than you promised me?

Why you always seem so empty, though I give you all my might?
Why you never show your bounty when I toil through the night?
Why you taunt me with your silence, while I water every seed?
Why you leave me in the shadows, when I stand right here and bleed?
Why you turn away from sunshine, when I’ve worked to clear the weeds?
Why you let me break my back, yet never meet my needs?
Why you make me chase the seasons, hoping for a different tune,
The truth is buried in the soil, but the harvests come too soon.
That's why I let my faith decay, and let my hope run dry,
That's why I doubt the fruits of labor." The truth is sometimes

We tend to gardens that never bloom,
But we ripen in the space where we make the room.
We hurt people that love us, love people that hurt us,

And so the garden said:
"Why you always doubting me?
Why you ain’t ever praise shouting me?
Why you always focus where I fail? Why you never been through hell?
'Cause the leaves and roots (that I bleed to produce)
were there to cushion every time you fell.
Why you curse the barren branches when I’m still standing tall?
Why you blame me for the seasons when I'm giving you all my all?
Why you mock me and berate, and doubt the promise in my buds?
Why you let your hope decay, while I’m working through the mud?

Why you only see the bitter and never taste the sweet?
Why you question all my bounty when I gave you what you need?
Why you always seek perfection in the fruits that I present?
Why you fail to see the sustenance that’s growing in the bent?
Though the harvest may be humble, and the sweetness not yet true,
I’ve kept you through the seasons, and I’ve always been for you." Sometimes

We tend to gardens that never bloom,
But we ripen in the space where we make the room.
We hurt people that love us, love people that hurt us,
Hurt people that love us, love people.

You say you'll ripen.
You whisper you’re still striving,
That in shadows you’re working, quietly surviving.
You say you’ll ripen, that you’ll sweeten in time,
But my stomach steady rumbles.. was these fruits ever mine?

You say you'll ripen.
You say you keeping me alive but shit, is that enough?
If you eat poison, become poison, does doing that make you tough?
You say you'll ripen. But I gave you my life and
I still don't know much about harvest.

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