Corner entrepreneurs stand guard unknown to gay innuendos like
pants sagged below assets of homosexual down lows
with
packs stuffed between squeezed butt cheeks and stiff gym socks
New Millennium kids
going all natu-ral
with no real knowledge as to the dred locs
see I’m thinkin outside the box
trying to contemplate the mindset of the end of days,
a cursed people, who walk around as if with no brains
from
video games to spinning rims
from the hottest Jordan’s to the newest timbs
corner entrepreneurs…. introducing, the black SIMS.
you see this is a place where success stories are only filled with those who are known around the block as the ish,
hood thugs lack motivation……except to be hood rich
and
black girls have graduated from turning the biggest tricks
slapping high fives screaming that’s my (laugh)
kitty fights scratching finger nails sprayed mace and sharp knives
no ambitions of a family
baby mama over wives
heroin addicts too proud to scratch away that last itch,
whoring has no fingers to point,
no preference of where it may sit
sick
sickness embedded in the depths of men’s bones,
spiritual zombies spend cash to sport skull and bones
t-shirts
they are aware
they have no spiritual home
independent black women who pretend not to be alone
400 years,
400 years how long?
how long will you continue to bring to life stereotypes of song singing cotton pickers
transformed into blonde, weave wearing, pants sagging, hood niggaz?
we shall overcome,
but only when some white man has pulled the trigger
and who you’ve mistaken as your own
is referred to as nigga, by the “nonviolent” civil rights leaders?
ya leaders
ya leaders have pulled the trigger.
but when will you take it back?
take back what’s yours
until there are no more
Niggaz.
400 years…
Tag: poetry
Guest Feature-We Love Like the Sun Rise
We kiss like the night
But we love like a sun rise
We love
like were far out there
Like
halos and moon rocks, and cosmos and jelly fish
We love
Like gravity
We love like autumn
the season where everything learns how to fall and we do
Fall
In love that night
You know, one day I’ll understand the earthquake crack from your pulse
I am the rhythm to any love song that made you want to exist.
So when the sun rises–anxious as it always is—
begins to yawn over the cusps of day
I will be here
may the wind lay us back onto our bed spreads where we can hold,
where we can touch,
where we can love
like the sun rise…
– Brook Yung, (excerpt)
In Case You Missed It: Top PBS Poems of 2014
I’m excited to do this for you. I was curious as to which poems you liked most and I found these. Feel free to take another read or read for the first time. They are listed in the order of the most views and feedback. I only included those you seemed to really enjoy:
Give Me Life
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/12/23/give-me-life/
This Hair Will Not Apologize
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/12/26/this-hair-will-not-apologize/
Never Having Been a Girl
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/10/26/never-having-been-a-girl/
Diamond in the Ruff
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/10/28/diamond-in-the-ruff/
Live Words
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/12/01/live-words-2/
These Women
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/12/28/these-women/
The Relationship: My Love Affair With Poetry
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/08/24/the-relationship-my-love-affair-with-poetry/
Un-Pretty
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/11/11/un-pretty/
Insomnia
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/08/21/insomnia/
Too Much Truth
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/11/05/too-much-truth/
The First Time
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/12/19/the-first-time/
I am
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/11/03/i-am/
His Birth Pains
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/12/03/his-birth-pains/
When We Were Colored
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/10/27/when-we-were-colored/
Cousin
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/08/26/cousin/
Mr. Black Man
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/10/30/mr-black-man/
The Unknown Woman
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/10/03/the-unknown-woman/
Courage
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/10/17/courage/
Lines
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/10/23/lines/
Princess
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/10/30/princess/
Language of the Broken Hearted
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/09/23/language-of-the-broken-hearted/
You Can’t Leave
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/09/29/you-cant-leave/
The Broken Tongue- She Was Not A Poet
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/12/11/the-broken-tongue-she-was-not-a-poet/
Genuine
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/11/24/genuine/
Memories
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/10/01/memories-2/
She Rebels
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/11/10/she-rebels/
Consequence of a Lonely Heart
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/11/17/consequence-of-a-lonely-heart/
A Private Symphony
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/11/14/a-private-symphony/
Dear Poetry
http://atomic-temporary-72317077.wpcomstaging.com/2014/11/12/dear-poetry/
Guest Feature – Barter
Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children’s faces looking up
Holding wonder in a cup.
Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit’s still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.
Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.
“Barter”
by Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
These Women
Insolent
like heavy shoulders
hard to bear
weight refusing to be comforted
contemptuous
a rubbed off gentleness
like candy wore off the sugar
like sugar wore off the sweet
when they pass by us on the street
an invisible burden hangs from the creases of their jeans
like expectation scratching it’s nails against the concrete
don’t get this wrong
they’re not bad women
though the accusations scream for merciless understanding
of their calling
these women
are taught compassion in the proverb of scripture
they fight a constant sin but no
they’re not women without hope
women not rotten down to the core
just women whose wombs have never bore.
The First Time
The first time we made love was when you walked into my classroom
your eyes danced and moved graciously inside mine like
dancers carefully twirling to the sound of their own heart beats
and
we were young-er
got lost in your mind and day dreamed about your beauty
could not wait to get to class the next day so that I may immerse myself in your intelligence
and like books I was open
(No wonder I like to read)
If loving you meant I couldn’t go beyond the pupils of your eyelids
I didn’t mind
cause
your lips spoke confidently and proud
so that I hung onto every word
swinging back and forth I was a kid at a playground
your beauty was biblical
from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet this was prophecy
thought the teacher was a waitress asked her if I could have another round of you
let’s be realistic
this thing was futuristic like foresight
every time you opened your mouth I took road trips into your memories
and for my blood racing I could not hide the joy
trying to catch my breath after falling into your smile
we were connected
too young to understand this love at first sight sensation I could have been dreaming
or maybe it was “Just my Imagination”
cause I was dancing
moon walking into complete relaxation
your last name should have been Jackson
cause you was a hit
and I could not lie
cause I ran home just to go to bed and wake up to the sun rise
cause it reminded me of you
you didn’t know it but my nose was so open I took notes
I was singing,
a sucka to every sound of the harmonious humility that escaped like convicts from your lips
I was convicted
cause I loved you too early…
Guest Feature – Mother to Son
Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor
Bare.
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.
So, boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps.
‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
– Langston Hughes






