***So I'm trying to publish a book of poetry about motherhood, this is the first poem I wrote on the subject which made me wanna keep going. Comment please***
Holy Mothers
She wishes you'd
SCREAM...
As loud as the deacon's sunday best.
As long as the sermon.
Sitting under a nonexistent fan
As the preacher preaches about a "Godly man"
To the woman folk and the four old men, who actually attend.
Side eyes to the only female minister who can't become reverend cause she never went to school
She wipes clean her dingy white shirt of baby drool.
This store front church,
"Sittin at God's Feet! Baptist Church of God and the People"
...and my momma and 'em..
The preacher man spit flings as he condemns a haughty woman, who is unclean.
He straightens his gold and platinum wedding ring.
Plays with the knot in his tie.
Wipes sweat from a furrowed brow.
The sisters in the front row
Don't notice these things
All they see is a man of God
Who drives a BMW, got a good job, and power
....and a wife and kids
They admire him among other things.
Ample behinds and lace covered legs shift during sermons.
Moisture in inappropriate places on a sunday morning.
The reasoning behind why his following consist of women. Beautiful women who wanna live right
But can only find corner boys for husbands, if they're that lucky.
Coming to see the pastor is their religion, his sweat, vigor, and rhythm.
Throw a hand in the air, instead of panties.
Holy Ghost orgasms and heels cracked from stomping.
She wish they'd...
SCREAM...
For her when she preaches.
But, she can't get a hand clap
Or respect.
Bastard of a four year old child, and she's only 20.
Look down through your nose at her, it's the only way momma and 'em would ever see her.
They don't scream for her
Momma and 'em only scream for the Pastor or Jesus.
But nobody can see just how much Minister son look like Pastor, except for me.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
In Case You Care
Seems as if im about to make this blog more of a poetry blog.
But just in case anyone cares about me personal life
1. Going to UMBC! spring semester 2010
2. Started a poetry club at my job. I love it!
3.umm...I'm happy for the first time in a long time.
that's it!
But just in case anyone cares about me personal life
1. Going to UMBC! spring semester 2010
2. Started a poetry club at my job. I love it!
3.umm...I'm happy for the first time in a long time.
that's it!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Daddy's Lil Girl Pt. 1 (premature pregnancies)
(this will probably the next poem i try to remember, if i ever get the nerve to go and perform at a slam)
It just came outta me,
Like a premature fetus
That splattered were my feet was
It called itself the light.
And gave me a twenty dollar bill, so I can get some change.
And now that I got mines I'm tryna get you yours.
But these girls don't seem to understand me, or even speak my language.
Can't look past my articulation or college matriculation to believe the words I say.
I had a confrontation wit a young girl one day.
She was this tall, brown skin, brown eyes,
And she cut me like a knife when she broke down her life; told me that she couldn't even begin to tell me how many times she cried in her room cause some nigga didn't want her, couldn't love her, only wanted to fuck her.
And I was her.
I was you little girl...till something miraculous came into my world.
Till this thing I birthed pushed it's luminous light out of my body, and I've been trying to tell everyone since.
Will you be the first to believe that I accomplished this feat, something like learning how to ride a bike without my daddy behind me.
It was healthy and brown, and there is no father around.
I did that shit by myself.
Pregnant by my pen at the tender age of twelve, and I started showing, so you could say my pride started to swell. The pregnancy was long and hard and sometimes even lonely
See daddy couldn't be there even if he wanted, he was six feet under before I was in the double digits, left me scratching a round belly asking what is this?
My questions were left unmarked like a sat problem, and instead of asking for help, I did that shit myself.
Wrote my name on the test and drew stick figures out of the bubbles.
My mentality was fuck it, ill solve my own troubles.
Fuck a daddy, if he can't be here. I'll be my own damn daddy, and make sure I never go without.
Fuck a test, fuck statistics and fuck all that doubt.
I brought a crib wit the money I got from pawning my barbie dolls.
And took my mom to Lamaze classes.
Stopped hanging around those people that were influencing me to abort it,
Said it wasn't my responsibility, said a father is supposed to provide a young girl with emotional security and self esteem.
And that its not right to do go about it alone.
But there was no father, and the boys I wanted didn't want a young girl who was to proud and pregnant with possibilities.
It just made their job harder it seems.
So it was just me.
Until the delivery, which happened before I thought it would
And it was right and it was mine.
This was my light, my truth, my way, I didn't owe this to no one but me.
My self-esteem didn't come from a loving daddy.
It came from me.
Spawned by my imagination
Fertilized by a mothers faith
Covered in the blood of Jesus
And spoken into the world by me.
It just came outta me,
Like a premature fetus
That splattered were my feet was
It called itself the light.
And gave me a twenty dollar bill, so I can get some change.
And now that I got mines I'm tryna get you yours.
But these girls don't seem to understand me, or even speak my language.
Can't look past my articulation or college matriculation to believe the words I say.
I had a confrontation wit a young girl one day.
She was this tall, brown skin, brown eyes,
And she cut me like a knife when she broke down her life; told me that she couldn't even begin to tell me how many times she cried in her room cause some nigga didn't want her, couldn't love her, only wanted to fuck her.
And I was her.
I was you little girl...till something miraculous came into my world.
Till this thing I birthed pushed it's luminous light out of my body, and I've been trying to tell everyone since.
Will you be the first to believe that I accomplished this feat, something like learning how to ride a bike without my daddy behind me.
It was the Immaculate Conception when I birthed my self some self esteem.
It was healthy and brown, and there is no father around.
I did that shit by myself.
Pregnant by my pen at the tender age of twelve, and I started showing, so you could say my pride started to swell. The pregnancy was long and hard and sometimes even lonely
See daddy couldn't be there even if he wanted, he was six feet under before I was in the double digits, left me scratching a round belly asking what is this?
My questions were left unmarked like a sat problem, and instead of asking for help, I did that shit myself.
Wrote my name on the test and drew stick figures out of the bubbles.
My mentality was fuck it, ill solve my own troubles.
Fuck a daddy, if he can't be here. I'll be my own damn daddy, and make sure I never go without.
Fuck a test, fuck statistics and fuck all that doubt.
I brought a crib wit the money I got from pawning my barbie dolls.
And took my mom to Lamaze classes.
Stopped hanging around those people that were influencing me to abort it,
Said it wasn't my responsibility, said a father is supposed to provide a young girl with emotional security and self esteem.
And that its not right to do go about it alone.
But there was no father, and the boys I wanted didn't want a young girl who was to proud and pregnant with possibilities.
It just made their job harder it seems.
So it was just me.
Until the delivery, which happened before I thought it would
I screamed, you came to soon!
It said, I came right on time and I've been incubated in your mind and now it's time for me to shine.
And it was right and it was mine.
This was my light, my truth, my way, I didn't owe this to no one but me.
My self-esteem didn't come from a loving daddy.
It came from me.
Spawned by my imagination
Fertilized by a mothers faith
Covered in the blood of Jesus
And spoken into the world by me.
The 13
Today I saw a beautiful black baby boy on the bus and I thought so many things.
By looking at your mother
I knew you never had a chance
She had vengeful regret stains caked around her mouth.
Eyes with complacency filled bags.
Your nose it was runny
White crust around your eyes as if you had been crying.
Where you crying lil man?
And if so what was it about.
It shouldn't have been worrisome because your physical age is only 4.
But it was, cause to your mother your age is so much more.
Your the age that she was when she noticed her surroundings.
Multiply that by the number of times you've been taught your neighborhood gang sign
Subtract the number of times you've seen father
And then your age becomes equal than or less than your mothers.
Lil man, I could rewrite the bible with the story of your life.
It would tell how you were born on what seemed an average night.
Another ghetto black boy born is never a spectacular sight.
But it is to me.
Lil man, I wish I could turn back the hands of time and show you your history.
It's a powerful thing to know your a direct descendant of kings.
It would teach you pride, hope, morals amongst other things.
Teach you that it's never cool to make a woman cry, how you should live your life with honor and go respectfully when you die.
Teach that the alternate high to weed is self-esteem
Lil man, I would if I could, but I can't cause this is my stop.
But the real ride is just beginning for you and I wish you the best of luck.
And I know you can be anything you set your mind to.
Teacher, lover, lawyer, friend, gang banger, baby daddy, drugdealer kingpin.
This world will pull you many so ways, have your mother grieving for days.
Getting to the point where I ponder having children cause I don't ever wanna feel that pain.
So remember all that was exchanged in this ten second glance, and don't forget yourself when your out there taking chances.
Don't let your life become as tragic as the songs Billie holiday used to sing.
You smile a sweet childish smile as my stop approaches and the bell rings.
As if to say, "don't worry about me sis, I'm goin be okay."
What will your life become?
How much tragedy you could bring?
By looking at your mother
I knew you never had a chance
She had vengeful regret stains caked around her mouth.
Eyes with complacency filled bags.
Your nose it was runny
White crust around your eyes as if you had been crying.
Where you crying lil man?
And if so what was it about.
It shouldn't have been worrisome because your physical age is only 4.
But it was, cause to your mother your age is so much more.
Your the age that she was when she noticed her surroundings.
And began to walk in the path of her mother, as if when she was born the doctor exclaimed
"Teenage pregnancy, let the circle be unbroken"
Multiply that by the number of times you've been taught your neighborhood gang sign
Subtract the number of times you've seen father
And then your age becomes equal than or less than your mothers.
Lil man, I could rewrite the bible with the story of your life.
It would tell how you were born on what seemed an average night.
Another ghetto black boy born is never a spectacular sight.
But it is to me.
Lil man, I wish I could turn back the hands of time and show you your history.
It's a powerful thing to know your a direct descendant of kings.
It would teach you pride, hope, morals amongst other things.
Teach you that it's never cool to make a woman cry, how you should live your life with honor and go respectfully when you die.
Teach that the alternate high to weed is self-esteem
And that when you truly love yourself than you grow to respect all living things.
Lil man, I would if I could, but I can't cause this is my stop.
But the real ride is just beginning for you and I wish you the best of luck.
And I know you can be anything you set your mind to.
Teacher, lover, lawyer, friend, gang banger, baby daddy, drugdealer kingpin.
This world will pull you many so ways, have your mother grieving for days.
Getting to the point where I ponder having children cause I don't ever wanna feel that pain.
So remember all that was exchanged in this ten second glance, and don't forget yourself when your out there taking chances.
Don't let your life become as tragic as the songs Billie holiday used to sing.
You smile a sweet childish smile as my stop approaches and the bell rings.
As if to say, "don't worry about me sis, I'm goin be okay."
Today I saw a beautiful black baby boy and I thought so many things.
The Process
My world is changing.
Faster than I ever thought it would.
Seeing things and doing things I thought I never could.
My heart it beat slowly
Like the calm before the storm
And my eyes stream gently
Bitter sweet tear drops, so warm.
From one issue to the next
From closed doors to bounced checks.
If I don't make it down this road I don't know what I’ll do next.
This is the life I thought deserved, the life I thought I would get, this life could lead to lead me to victory, or even regret.
Lord knows my zapatos aint never been opposed to walking.
But I don't got the stamina
And I hear the vultures squawking.
It's like I'm lost now.
And my great wall of confidence is falling down
All around me
Like I'm blinded by my own light
But my Lord says its not my fight.
And God willing the next time that plane of opportunity touches down, it'll be my flight.
Faster than I ever thought it would.
Seeing things and doing things I thought I never could.
My heart it beat slowly
Like the calm before the storm
And my eyes stream gently
Bitter sweet tear drops, so warm.
From one issue to the next
From closed doors to bounced checks.
If I don't make it down this road I don't know what I’ll do next.
This is the life I thought deserved, the life I thought I would get, this life could lead to lead me to victory, or even regret.
Lord knows my zapatos aint never been opposed to walking.
But I don't got the stamina
And I hear the vultures squawking.
It's like I'm lost now.
And my great wall of confidence is falling down
All around me
Like I'm blinded by my own light
But my Lord says its not my fight.
And God willing the next time that plane of opportunity touches down, it'll be my flight.
Plan B
Plan B is never as good as plan A.
That's why it's plan b.
When dealing with plan B, just try not to be bitter.
But it's hard to remain that same person after you've had your heart broken.
I used to be as deep as the pacific, but life is turning me shallow.
Shallow is safe and safe is good.
Safe is the relief you feel at the confirmation of your suspicions, "I knew his ass was cheating!"
Safe is the comatose like state you drink yourself into after the divorce papers are filed.
Safe is the realization that you don't need a man, cause they all ain't shit anyway.
Safe is telling your daughters that being a doctor is out of there reach and nursing is more realistic.
Safe is ignoring that burning sensation when peeing, cause your afraid to get tested.
Plan A was so much more dangerous. Plan B can only be less.
And all though he doesn't love you like a tornado or overwhelm your senses like a tsunami, he has a good job and treats his mother right.
And a girl can only stand so many sleepless nights of pining away for plan A.
Plan A, now that was a plan.
It was smooth on the inside and shiny on the out, looked like it talked like it knew was the shit.
Plan A was the first thing you thought about when you woke up and sang you to sleep at night.
Plan A was first.
Plan A was right.
Plan A smeared your eyesight so you saw nothing but plan A.
So when plan A disappeared you stop seeing.
Couldn't even imagine what a plan B would look like.
You were like plan B? What's that?
You learned that plan B was the option after the first.
The stars when you can't reach the moon.
Not the silver or the gold but the bronze.
A dream deferred into something less....
You wanted Jimmy Choo's?
But all they got are Steve Madden
You thought he had a condom on? Girl you better get a plan B!
Life is one big plan B.Wouldn't you have wanted heaven?
Is it so wrong to want what you want and think you deserve it?
Your life is a plan B.
Because your dad wanted a son.
So swallow that giant wad of plan B seed, but spit it out only when life isn't looking
Cause if you let it grow inside you
You become bitter with plan B. And good people don't.
That's why it's plan b.
When dealing with plan B, just try not to be bitter.
Bitterness is unattractive, and good people survive horrid situations with the plastic plastered smile of courage on their face.
But it's hard to remain that same person after you've had your heart broken.
I used to be as deep as the pacific, but life is turning me shallow.
Shallow is safe and safe is good.
Safe is the relief you feel at the confirmation of your suspicions, "I knew his ass was cheating!"
Safe is the comatose like state you drink yourself into after the divorce papers are filed.
Safe is the realization that you don't need a man, cause they all ain't shit anyway.
Safe is telling your daughters that being a doctor is out of there reach and nursing is more realistic.
Safe is ignoring that burning sensation when peeing, cause your afraid to get tested.
Plan A was so much more dangerous. Plan B can only be less.
Plan B is safe and simple, the man you settled for cause your ovaries are withered with your deferred dreams of brown skin sons named Rashad.
And all though he doesn't love you like a tornado or overwhelm your senses like a tsunami, he has a good job and treats his mother right.
And a girl can only stand so many sleepless nights of pining away for plan A.
Plan A, now that was a plan.
It was smooth on the inside and shiny on the out, looked like it talked like it knew was the shit.
Plan A was the first thing you thought about when you woke up and sang you to sleep at night.
Plan A was first.
Plan A was right.
Plan A smeared your eyesight so you saw nothing but plan A.
So when plan A disappeared you stop seeing.
It's hard to accept blindness when your whole identity was built around vision.
Couldn't even imagine what a plan B would look like.
You were like plan B? What's that?
You learned that plan B was the option after the first.
The stars when you can't reach the moon.
Not the silver or the gold but the bronze.
A dream deferred into something less....
You wanted Jimmy Choo's?
But all they got are Steve Madden
You thought he had a condom on? Girl you better get a plan B!
Life is one big plan B.Wouldn't you have wanted heaven?
Is it so wrong to want what you want and think you deserve it?
Your life is a plan B.
Because your dad wanted a son.
So swallow that giant wad of plan B seed, but spit it out only when life isn't looking
Cause if you let it grow inside you
You become bitter with plan B. And good people don't.
Good people survive horrid situations with the plastic plastered smile of courage on their face.
Poetry Overload?
I'm emptying out my blackberry with a shitload of poetry
Just cause i feel like it.
Leave comments. And this means you shatyia and jen..lol
Just cause i feel like it.
Leave comments. And this means you shatyia and jen..lol
Running
I thought could run from him
But I can't.
This man who loves me like no other
I was made to love him
Afraid of what others would think of me if I gave him my heart
Ran like hell from what I knew would eventually catch up with me.
I used to wonder why I would be so unhappy,
Expecting the world to pay back what I thought they owe me.
Looking for my joy, in his arms
And their clubs, those shoes, and dollar bills.
Mindless mumbling zombie whistling the capitalism theme song in my head.
Cash rules everything around me, cream get the money dollar dollar bills yall.
But naw, it didn't take away the pain.
Money compared to him is like a band aid versus the cure,
The biggest hit he certainly was, making all other things obscure.
But I was afraid of his love thought I was unworthy,
Thought you had to be pure and whole to be with him,
And certainly I was dirty.
There would be times I would be amazed at his love,
And this impacted my own spirituality.
Times where my whole life seemed to fall in peace,
Sent my mind in spirals tryna to figure out what this was.
Till one day I didn't have to wonder no more,
Cause the love I feel now, it has always been, and always was, nothing but God
But I can't.
This man who loves me like no other
I was made to love him
Afraid of what others would think of me if I gave him my heart
Ran like hell from what I knew would eventually catch up with me.
I used to wonder why I would be so unhappy,
Expecting the world to pay back what I thought they owe me.
Looking for my joy, in his arms
And their clubs, those shoes, and dollar bills.
Mindless mumbling zombie whistling the capitalism theme song in my head.
Cash rules everything around me, cream get the money dollar dollar bills yall.
But naw, it didn't take away the pain.
Money compared to him is like a band aid versus the cure,
The biggest hit he certainly was, making all other things obscure.
But I was afraid of his love thought I was unworthy,
Thought you had to be pure and whole to be with him,
And certainly I was dirty.
There would be times I would be amazed at his love,
And this impacted my own spirituality.
Times where my whole life seemed to fall in peace,
Sent my mind in spirals tryna to figure out what this was.
Till one day I didn't have to wonder no more,
Cause the love I feel now, it has always been, and always was, nothing but God
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