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Good gawd O' lawd
I can't hide it.

Suppose to be doing other things.
Here she go again
Showing her face.

She packed her bags.
Left before the door could close.
Left fa' anotha man.

Lawd A mercy
Here she is again.
Showing her face.

I can't hide it lawd.
Catching the door fo' it close.
Suppose to be doing other things.

Find these old receipts.
Piece my heart here and there.
Good lawd I hid it from ma' self

She claimin' she leavin'
Come back wondering round
Showing her face.
Lawd A mercy

Left before the door could close
Left fa' anotha man
Lawd A mercy
Here she go again

Here I go again
Catching the door fo' it close.
I want the seat closest to the window.
Boat, plane, bus, passenger seat
Ma'am if you don't mind,
could you please scoot down
while I take my seat.
My feet are tired.
I have been standing on this concrete all day.
Almost sleep on my feet,
The same problems exist at the front of the bus
just as the back.
If you could see past me, you'd see.
Yet you turn your nose and grab your purse.
All I want is a seat to rest my feet.
Lay my head back and dream.
I don't want to wear your chains today.
The chains used to justify what you see on the news.
How you can't see anything past me.
How you've wrapped me in chain from shoulder to feet.
You don't try to hide your look,
I can feel the heat on the back of my neck.
How you pick and choose what you like,
There is no difference between you nor I,
Except color,
Other than gender.
You watch me from the corner of your eye while I take my seat.
There once was a time when I'd have no choice but to sit in the back.
Now that I take my seat in the front you move to the back
A look of disgust across your face.
Boat, plane, bus, passenger seat.
Ma'am if you could,
would you please scoot down
While I take my seat.
All I want is a seat beside the window without having to explain why
I want to sit this close to the window
Lord oh lord,
Lord oh lord
Between heaven & stars,
Clouds near & far

Turn down the stars
Turn down the stars
I gots ta' find my loves heart.
A light that shines bright.

Through prayer & bent knees.
Bent knees and loose shoe strings.
I look but can't find
My loves heart.

These old shoe strings
stumbling, falling
Looking up at the stars
Clouds near and far

These old loose shoe strings
These old loose shoe strings.
Lord if you can
I gots ta' find my loves heart
Put me to sleep
I says put me back to sleep
and lock the door

I got some place to be
Got someones to see.

You can't understand
You surely can't understand

I needs to dream my same dream
I needs to dream my same dream I says

This old life does me no good
My eyes, they need to be closed I says.

Finds me a woman I met sometime last night

No madder how I tell it,
You can't understand this thang I know fo' certain.

I says put me back to sleep
I says put me back to sleep
Can't you see
I got some place to be
Got someones to see
Danielle Jun 2018
The night is dramatic
Awash in silver and black.
Without the stars
The full moon glows,
Singing to you, lullabies
To ease those skulking dreams.
A poem written as a kind of response to Quiet Girl by Langston Hughes

I would liken you
To a night without Stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.

-Langston Hughes
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
In the morning her eyes paint the cities horizon.
Stretching and yawning.
Getting dressed; Her blue tapestry.
Opening the door to her apartment
She climbs down broken stairs.
It's payday Friday.
The mail man is late again.
Opening her box closing it right back.
She considers direct deposit,
Climbing back up those old creaks in the stairs.
To a notice on the door.
Excessive noise complaint
Rent past due
Tieran Nickel Mar 2017
Has to be served
'Cause it is deserved.

America is a place
To express
The emotions you face.
Inspired by "Democracy" by Langston Hughes
ᗺᗷ Nov 2013
I dream a world where hunger-
A forgotten feeling guessed.
Where insides never rumble,
All the frigid bodies dressed.
I dream a world with Love
Tattooed across our open eyes.
With fingers locking one another
Until we’ve reached the skies.
When money keeps us warm,
As it lights the fire place.
And mouths in key of Kumbaya
While it burns without a trace.
With Hate removed from language  
As we teach the boys and girls
That every color of the rainbow shines-
Of such a dream, my world.
Dreams of Sepia Aug 2015
She tells me not to talk about my life
true poets write of other things, she says
then reads a poem about her marriage, husband

I'm reminded of Sylvia Plath's struggles
how she would not have followed such advice
or else not become the icon that she is

besides, as Langston Hughes said
' No great poet should ever be afraid of being himself'
or something like ( replace that with 'herself')

& does not a life contain universal topics
that ties us all together in one universe
so all I say is write, write what you know
Elaine Feinstein is a prominent British poet currently writing today.
erin kingham Jun 2015
The instructor said,
    Go home and write
    a page tonight.
    And let that page come out of you—
    Then, it will be true.
I wonder if life could really be that simple?
I am twenty, confused, and clinically depressed
I went to therapy, then to inpatient, and now I’m home
to this house that I’ve known since birth,
Depression is not the only thing I feel, so it is not all of me.
But the path down this road has been long, and dark,
Going up hills and making turns, that got me lost sometimes,
But I’m starting to see the light of day,
Everything happens for a reason they say.
My journey isn’t over yet, but I’ll tell you what I’ve learned:

I’m not easy to understand, but nobody is,
at twenty, my age. But I know I am not  just what
I feel and see and hear. Instead I am also  what
I think, and say, and do. Aren’t we all?
The things that define me, aren’t only in my head.
They can be read, and heard, and seen,
My words spoken out loud, or written down are
The decisions I make, such as letting go, or fighting;
Telling a truth, or a lie;  giving, or taking
I guess having depression doesn’t make me a good or bad person
Despite my disorder, I make ordinary choices.
So will my definition of me be alright,
Even if it means, I’m not always delighted to be here.
But I will be here
Just like you are, instructor.
You might be happy with life---
Yet you have your troubles, just as I have mine.
That’s human.
Perhaps you don’t want to be a part of some sad occasions,
Nor do I often want to be a part of them either.
But we are, and that’s life!
As I learn from my mistakes and hard times,
I guess you learn from yours—
although you’re older—and wiser—
and I have less life experience than you.

— The End —