POETS CORNER

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Comment by HoodWrittens on December 14, 2011 at 8:30pm

What happened to the hunger for me that I use to see in your eyez,,

        Did it like time flys leave too?

I still have that hunger in my eyez for you.

   Familiarity can bring scorn,

Make you rue the day you were born,

  And I see disappointment and something else in your eyez,

               What can I do to make you realize,

We won't always be where we are..... My love for you has lasted thus far...

    What we strive for is not behind us...

What must I do to remind us,,,, If love looks for us will it find us?

   If love looks into every part of me: Love will find that,,,,,,,,,

 You're the heart of me!!!!

Is the hunger and passion hiding behind a mask,,,,,

                                           Why you ask?

I can't see it, it's in disguise..... But still I keep looking for it in your eyez....

           Should I just stop and let it be,,,,

All the while asking; where's your love for me?

                               Fuk that.... They say the soul is in the eyez...

But sometimes they even tell you lies...

                         I'll end my question and answer session,,,

I've already learned my lesson......

      The love of people is a fickle thing,,,,

Look at all the shit loving others bring......

      But this I have to say............. Love rules the day!!!!!

Comment by HoodWrittens on November 28, 2011 at 8:33pm

How do you mourn the death of a dream,

           especially when it's like your life is bursting at the seams?

How do you go on when your passion dies,

          How do you face the world when your grief shows in your eyes?

When the dream dies do you die too,

          Remember first and foremost that the dream is you?

The passion to live your dream is laying up in the morgue,

        An autopsy in store, to find the cause of it's death and resurect it once more.

         My dream still lives, frail, weak, disoriented and out of sort,

                      For now it's in I.C.U on life support! 

Comment by HoodWrittens on August 24, 2011 at 10:47pm

Human is the name we share in common, but does it actually describe us?

Are we still human when we do shit that makes others despise us?

Hue means color and heaven knows we come in every shade, but so do animals that were wonderfully made.

My folk need to know that even when your acts are those of an animal, that ain't you man! We are the first folk, from us we gave HUE to MAN! 

Comment by HoodWrittens on August 24, 2011 at 10:38pm

I'v been blessed with the opportunity to witness overt racism as well as covert. I'm a child of the 60's and I must give thanks for still being here when so many of the ones I knew are dead and gone. I've studied the his-story of my people and it saddens me that we still suffer from the residual of slavery. Every ethnic group that arrives on these shores know that there is strength in numbers. We who have been here for over 400 years seem to be getting our info from a different source. Our support of each other is shameful to say the least. We got it twisted!

Comment by Nanette Buchanan on June 28, 2011 at 12:04pm

Are We Truly Blessed?

 

 

When we say we are blessed, what does that mean?

Health, wealth, resources, finances? 

Do we say we are blessed because we merely survive, because life's turmoil has not defeated us? 

Do we say we are blessed because of comparisons, because of what fate has granted?

Because of what has been bestowed upon us?

 

When we say we are blessed is our faith a must?

Must we pray every night, every day?

Must we attend Sunday services, tithe, serve on the ministry board?

Must we tend to the sick, feed the hungry, and carry our Bible when we leave home?

 

When we say we are blessed are we seeking respect?

Are we expecting to be treated differently?

Do we have the desire to be separated from those who know not their blessing?

Do we separate ourselves and shut out others?

 

When we say we are blessed do we truly believe it?

Do we hesitate to say it to some but emphatically announce it to others?

Do we understand everyone is blessed and not just us?

Do we expect the blessings of others to touch us too?

 

You see when someone answers the question "How are you?"

And the answer comes back as, "I am blessed"

A blessed spirit would also add "and you."

A blessed spirit glows well before the answer is given

A blessed spirit extends themselves, to touch and move the blessing on.

 

Are we truly blessed if we are not willing to share our blessing?

Are we truly blessed if we are not able to simply say, "I am blessed and you"

And you......And you....And you......

Are we truly blessed if we block the blessings of others?

For you see, I am blessed, and you are too.

 

 

 

Nanette M. Buchanan, author

Copyright 2011

Comment by Nanette Buchanan on June 9, 2011 at 6:00pm

If I gave you my hand as we walked through this life; would you hold it and be my guide, never leaving my side.

If I stepped close to the edge and told you I knew we could fly; would you hold on as we soared through the sky.

If I flapped my wings as said there, I think where we should land; would you squeeze my hand telling me where we left we should have remained, never flew, just continued to stand.

I let your hand go so I could explore.....

I'm reaching for you now, let go of your fears, let's soar.

 

If I gave you my wings, my strength, my guidance, my insight, would you be discouraged or empowered by my light.

If I lead you with knowledge, my experience, my willingness to teach; would you feel unwilling, unable to speak.

If I shared my possessions, all that I have, all that I've done; would you be content with having nothing, refusing to say I gave you, my last, I sacrificed so we could be as one.

I let your heart go, beating its own beat......I'm hearing it now, you are whole, you are complete

 

If I gave you.......me as an offer of peace; would you see us as enemies, bring the drama, never wanting it to cease.

If I gave you.......what I long for, desire, what I have acquired and need; would you show compassion, realize your actions are the result of jealousy and greed.

I give you this thought, these words you need to hear......I am with you always, but I harbor no fears.

I soar because it is my destiny to rise above the rest, I long to be of the elite, one of the best.

I hold your hand, touch your heart, your soul, your mind......and if you still don't understand me......

you will, when you're able to fly.

 

Copyright 2011 Nanette M. Buchanan

Comment by Nanette Buchanan on June 1, 2011 at 11:57am

Words From The Cell

I took the opportunity to read the paper this week
No, seriously read it from sheet to sheet.
Figured I would see what was happening in my home town.
Figured I’d take a media glance since I can’t go out, ya’ know roam around.

I listen to the news from time to time,
hear some of the cellies talking about back in the hood crimes
Didn’t need no names, faces of those that don’t communicate.
That’s how it is when parole don’t even have your date.

I shocked myself reading everyday from front to back
I was even more surprised when I thought, damn everybody must be on crack.
The system is in place to do its thing,
But the crimes of today, what the hell do they mean?

Never mind the murder, muggings and senseless killings,
Smuggling, car theft and the usual drug dealings.
What’s up with the gang banging, initiations, and turf wars?
What’s up with mothers and fathers offing each other, what is that for?

The kids that are being abused, used by adults.
They’ll never survive mentally, always remembering how it felt.
The politicians can’t shuffle the cards fast enough to give a raw deal.
Boys they hired are pulling their plugs keeping it real.

Skeletons are falling out of all closets, even those held most high.
What’s up with the teachers, priest, and rabbi’s?
I’m reading this from a jail cell where I will live probably until I am old.
From this cell I can feel that the world has grown cold.

I cry at times when I think of the fate I chose in my youth, the decisions I made.
Losing my golden years in life is the price I paid.
But for you who are free, and choose what appears to be correct.
You live daily, trying to understand what man calls living perfect.

How perfect can it be with all your fears,
You check yourself and your neighbor daily, just as I do here.
Living not knowing whether the next confrontation may cost you your life,
Praying harder daily for your loved ones, husband and wife.

Wondering if your children took heed and listened to your word of wisdom,
You’re living daily on edge, full of stress and unwanted criticism.
Yeah, I live here, it’s obvious I have been deprived from day to day.
But you who are free what a price you pay.

If you educate your child you will pay a kings fee.
And that payment still don’t guarantee they won’t end up like me.
What about those seeking employment, the want, need, desire for better jobs.
You get your pay only to find with the deductions you’ve been robbed.

Those who look, and talk like me.
Those who are feared by the intellects those who fulfill your society
Have said lock us away and toss the key.
As I read the papers I wondered what is the new punishment to be.

Just a few words from my home this six by nine concrete cell
You think you’re living better,
after reading the paper I can’t tell.

Nanette M. Buchanan
Copyright 2010 Quiet Times, A Journey in Poetry

Comment by HoodWrittens on April 26, 2011 at 10:52pm

Can you truly relate to the struggle that's mine alone, or are you too concerned with the struggle that's yours alone? Can you feel my disappointment when I don't hear from you, Or are you too busy to even find out what I'm goin through?

I miss you even though we've never met, you ask how I can miss someone I don't know yet?

Well that's not difficult as far as I can see, I miss you cause you're a part of me!!

Comment by Carmen M. Hall on April 25, 2011 at 9:53am

                                                    EXPRESSION

 

Look into my heart, not my face, because the look on my face is that of total disgrace.  My heart is crying not my eyes; my face displays that of someone who died.

 

My heart is calling out for someone to love me; my face has a look, of someone who left me.  My heart has all the feelings that my face should express; my heart has felt every emotion that my face rejects.

 

 

Comment by Carmen M. Hall on April 21, 2011 at 2:36pm

I'm looking forward to reading that.

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