Patrick Sep 28

Hardwood floors scratched up from the dog’s claws
As he chased after us, panting and slobbering
Because he was the Dragon
And we were the Knights

You told me we could slay the dragon
And one day he wouldn’t haunt us
And one day we’d see the sun seep through the storm clouds
And we’d feast like Kings and Queens

We’d read stories in the summer heat
Under the shade of our Oak
Sweating glasses of lemonade by our sides
Stories where the good guys won
And the bad guys stumbled home
With sagging shoulders

But the years went by
And you let them gray your hair
And kill your flame

Get up, the fight isn’t lost
The dragon can be slain
Get up, Mom
The dragon can be slain

IndiGo Aug 12

These decorative shackles I wear
Make me feel superior I know if my ancestors were to see me, they’d look in despair
I wear my diamond choker
And my gold rope chain slangs
I can’t wait for chaining day as I pride fully walk to the jeweler whistling and sing
These decorative shackles I wear
Ease the generational pains of the slave and tribal warfare
I know if our ancestors were to see us now, they’d see kings, queens and heirs
I sail the Atlantic ocean in large ships in awe at the view and the majestic blue
Ironically my ancestors sailed before me, but in slave sloops
Forgetting that this water tells my story, his-story and has my blood too
Only the strongest melaninated few surpass this ocean leaving a few behind
The only time they were freed from their shackles was when death took over
Deposing them over board
Never to see beyond that blinding hopeful horizon line
These decorative shackles I wear
These expensive whips I own- merely make up for what my ancestors never owned
If our ancestors could see us now
I wonder if they’d be proud
Perhaps they would frown and say
“You’re the modern day slaves now.”
From chains to chains you see how the cycle of black lives go
We’re the new era slaves this story is yet untold
These decorative shackles we flaunt and wear
Help to make the
European man billionaires.
These decorative shackles and chains make me feel free
It’s like I’m buying my form of freedom concealed as luxury.

Demmi Joe Jul 23

When I was young,
I had long curly hair
That cascaded down my back
Like an ominous waterfall;
So dark and thick, it seemed to go on forever.
But, when I was in school, it was always tied up.
It was a challenge for my mother to tame it with a brush
And keep it in the confines of a bun.
She said it was to keep my hair
from getting to my and others’ faces.
But some people still managed to make me feel bad for having such “unruly” hair
when the most it’s been exposed is when I take out my hair tie just to tie it back up again.
For years I tried to straighten it;
Hair rebonding every year,
Straightening iron ever morning,
Damaged hair and damaged pride every day.

They say a woman’s hair is her crown;
She must wear it with her chin up
And flaunt it unabashedly.
This is to the girls who do.
This is to the girls who dye their hair magnificent colors
To match their colorful personalities.
This is to the girls who cut their own hair
Because hair salons charge so much for a trim.
This is to the girls who shave all their hair for charity
Or for support of the girls in chemotherapy.
But this is also for the girls in chemotherapy,
Who are still thriving even though they’re suffering.
This is also to the girls whose hair are being treated like an anomaly,
Their braids being pulled and afros being patted.
This is also to the girls who can’t land a job
Because their skills were degraded by their “unprofessional” hair.

A woman’s hair is her crown
But a queen does not need a crown.
A queen is not just some girl with a shiny thing on her head.
A queen is a figure of power, compassion and grace.
She wears the crown, not the other way around.

a poem about hair
Jim Hill May 1

“The street is dangerous”
the boy says to his sister
in hand at the crosswalk.

It is 2pm on the corner
and the school kids
begin to pass the cafe.

Strollers and stragglers
others bounding alongside
their tired mothers.

Some gaze upwards
stretching their arms
towards buildings and lights,

things they cannot
reach but hope
to one day grasp.

Others absorbed
into small devices
held in their hands,

things they cannot
touch but will try to
for maybe a long time.

So many come still
all at waist height
in their multicolored jackets,

Pokemon backpacks,
and Spiderman sneakers
that drag along the sidewalk.

And finally the little girl
who touches all she passes —
the iron fence, my chair,

the table — as if the world
only becomes real
under her palm.

Mrs Charming Apr 22

Hair of a thousand silver strings. Her beauty forged from fallen stars. A present from the sky, too precious to be held forever.

On the contrary, your soul so tattered and weak, hungry with lust. The teeth of her ghost drag across your feeble bones, tasting the desire you have for her King.

Shame on you for playing with things that aren't yours, silly girl. Her howl shifts ocean tides and scars the moon. No universe can survive her thunder. Worlds have been slain and devoured by her wisdom alone.

Selfish child, did you think it wise to compete with the Queen? She will crucify you with her elegance. Her beauty will rip your heart out from your fickle body and feed it to the sun.

sunprincess Feb 9


Olé, Olé,  June 14th, 1946 the coming
Of a new born baby boy, aka Donald J.

Ah, a sweet baby with a cherubic smile,  
Born underneath a bright shining Star

The star was glittering all night as three kings
smiled and says upon the day of his birth

  "This lad shall someday be a fine President,
And the greatest ever to walk this earth!"

Donald J. Trump the man is a great president
soon pronounced the greatest president

Ever born, and the greatest You've ever seen
Born in the Big Apple, born in Queens


Julie Grenness Dec 2016

We three Kings of Orient aren't,
Three queens, we travel from afar,
We arrived on time,
fed sheep and swine,
Delivered the afterbirth,
Cooked food, and then made Peace on Earth, Oh....
(Sing chorus),
Star of wonder, star of light,
Star of royal beauty bright,

We didn't get lost going home,
We didn't leave Mary all alone,
We swept the stable,
Gave her soup in a ladle,
After the afterbirth,
We then made Peace on Earth, Oh....
We three Kings of Orient aren't,
Really three Queens, we came from afar,
We arrived on time,
Fed sheep and swine,
Delivered the baby at the birth,
Then we made Peace on Earth...Oh...
(Sing chorus).....

Feedback welcome, bit of a giggle.

racing across the train platform,
one hand on our heads keeping our beanies in place,
the other clenching each other's

we slid in through the doors,
catching our breath in between laughter
we make it above ground just as the sun is setting over astoria
and i swear your eyes turn golden

my favourite you comes out at night
we lose track of time, put away our cell phones,
and vandalize this whole damn place with our love

carve your name into my rickety old heart like you did the trees
near bethesda
kiss me long and hard, like the winters
just as refreshing when i open the door and seeing you,
my own wonderland

melt this ice pick inside of me
set me on fire, for all i care
everything is dying right now,
but for once, for once, it doesn't feel like it

marïama Sep 2016

In this battle for the freedom of our souls some may think
Maybe I should've let go long ago
From being kings and queens, Chiefs and Pharaohs
To Niggers in the cotton fields
To slaves being whipped and forgotten
We were stolen.
Stripped from our homes and looted of our gold.
Fast forward
Now we are doctors, lawyers, professors
But Don't tell me the cotton fields have recovered from our tears
Our sweat seeps deep into the souls of America
So Don't tell me the cotton fields have recovered from our blood.
Fast forward
"All are equal before the law and are entitled without any discrimination to equal protection of the law."
They tell us equality is coming.
That it is here.
Then let you wait holding your breath
Black boy shot and killed for walking down the street
Black boy whipped and beaten for looking master in the eye
Tell me are you still holding your breath?
Still suffocating
Still waiting for the keys to our chains
Fast forward
Black lives matter
All roads torn down, we've paved new paths  
Stripped from our houses so we built homes
Lotted for our gold but we are golden
Black is hard to get rid of, that annoying stain that stays to long
Black is rough and tough
Black is solid in luring ways
Black lives won't matter until we love our own people
Black lives won't. matter. to. them. because you've called that girl a "Hoe or Thot"
Black lives won't matter until we stop the black on black blood splatter
For black lives to matter...
We must empower each other
Standing together the ground will break recognizing he whose tears, sweat and blood upon which it was built
So take one look at our past
Because this will be the last

Jay Jul 2016

shades of Melanin.

It was gifted to us from the supreme.
It all started from that gift which is only inherited from us;
That we gave the world an enchanting and seductive formula.
From creamy vanilla to lustful ebony.
A rainbow of, melanin.
We are the light and the dark here on mother earth.
We glisten in the sun and glow in the moonlight.
We are the reign of earth and the creators of life.
Thanking the heavens for the shades of melanin.

To be continued
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