Monday, March 16, 2009

What is this?

What is this dream we believe?
What is this vision we believe?
What is this promise we believe?
What is this illusion we believe?

What is this empowerment we feel?
What is this involvement we feel?
What is this supremacy we feel?
What is this inspiration we feel?

What is this victory we forsee?
What is this success we forsee?
What is this peace we forsee?
What is this greatness we forsee?

What is this?

Black n Proud!

Some say colored, some say dark skinned
Others say mixed and some say “milky”
This must be the best time to be me
I'm black and proud

Yesterday there were places I couldn’t be
There were spaces I couldn’t fill
There were buses I couldn’t ride
And my life was less than a stride

Today there are places am needed to be
Spaces all mine to fill
Buses all mine to ride
My life I take one stride at a time

Tomorrow there will be places made for me
Spaces am begged to fill
Buses branded with shots of me
My life, too much to take in one stride

Who am I? I'm black and PROUD!


Am human and sometimes weak
Am human and sometimes worried
Sometimes broken and sometimes sad

Am human and sometimes insecure
Am human and sometimes not so sure
Sometimes scared and sometimes not bothered at all

Am human and sometimes all alone
Am human and sometimes like a clone
Sometimes wet in tears and sometimes with no clue at all

Am human...but He asks me daily “where is your faith?”
And I say am human, it doesn’t come easy at all

Am human so I pray, Lord give me the faith.


Life is the biggest puzzle...
Different pieces of different species
Built on a good foundation,
All the pieces can fit together
Finding the pieces is one thing
Fitting the pieces in the right place is another
Which ones match and which don’t
Which look so alike and which don’t
Which could we force-fix
And which must we find the right piece for
It could be fun and exciting
When all the pieces we pick
Seem to be the right piece
It could be even more fun and exciting
When all the pieces fall in place
And the picture begins to show
It could be sad when all the pieces you pick
Are not the right fit and
Even more sad when the picture doesn’t seem right
And when the puzzle is almost fixed and just one space remains
One thing is ALWAYS sure,
The puzzle is never complete without that one piece

A Writer’s Blight

Am not blocked and am not blank
I know words and I have them
I see things and I feel them
I hear voices and I listen to them
what is wrong?

Am too open and have too much in mind
I don’t know which of these thousands of words to rhyme
Am not sure what am seeing and I can’t tell what am feeling
The voices are too many and I’m not sure to which to listen
This is wrong

Am thinking of what has happened
And resounding what I have said
Am straining to see and hurting with feelings
Now the voices are screaming

Not sure what it is that happened
And reflecting on the reality of what I have said
My eyes are teary with what they see
And my heart is speechless within
Trapped in a world of uncertainty
This must be wrong.

A Writers Nightmare

Its dark, the eye sees nothing
Its extra quiet, the ear hears nothing
Its empty, the body feels nothing

The page lies empty with no words to fill
Lines lay easy with no weight to them
No power and no real meaning

But the mind is full
It sees, hears and feels
The mind if full but nothing seems to come out

Where is this place and where did all the words go?
It must be what they call a writer’s nightmare

The Lost Writer

What should be written, and should not
What should be fought and brought to thought?
Where are the words, where have they run to?
This must be a writer’s nightmare...
An inner overflow of emotions
But an outward desolation and an imprisoned resolution
What is this feeling that can’t be written nor spoken of?
But very present and very felt, very strange and very scattered

The Fullness Of Your Emptiness

You may think you have nothing,
Life is tough and all odds are against you
No new deals , only lost contracts
The body is weak and weary
And all you think is: “emptiness”

How empty? How nothing?
Do you not have water,
with which you quench your thirst
or food with which you feed your hunger
or that place to rest your body?

This is emptiness:
The man who has not even a glass nor clean water
At the point of thirst
The woman who has not even a spoon nor salt
To hope for food
The sick child with no doctor nor diagnosis of his case
Or the street child looking down at her nose
And all doors have one sign saying closed
That is emptiness

Always remember "the fullness of your emptiness"