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Cameron Godfrey Mar 2012
You can cry on my shoulder
You can tell me your pain
I won’t let him hurt you,
No, never again
I might not make it better
but I’ll try and I’ll try
I will never hurt you
I’ll never let you cry.
And when you have to let it out
I won’t laugh or stare,
I want you to always know, my friend
That I’ll always be there.
This is specifically to Claire and Arielle, because I know you're hurting and I feel your pain. But to all of my friends, everyone... if you need me, I'll be there.
Love,
Zeba
Tashea Young Jan 2017
I want that kinda love like the way Obama looks at Michelle
I want that kinda love Like Cinderella in her happliy ever after fairytale
I want that kinda love thats brings you Heaven in the mist of all hell
I want that kinda love thats gonna be there for you at the lowest point in your life when you fail.
I want that kinda love that if you start Looking into thier eyes you will be put under a spell
I want that kind of love that Feeds your mind knowlege until you both feel Faded.
I want That kinda of love that takes you high and gets your spirit Elevated
I want That kinda of love that keeps you going and movatived.
I want That kinda love where you keep on all your clothes but still be exposed like your naked.
I want That kind of love thats scared
Yes that kinda of love.
I want that kinda love Fitting me like a cold hand to warm glove
I want That kinda Love expressed through the lycis that Jill Scott sings,
That kinda love of how much joy and life loves brings
That kind of love Manifesting the many blessings
That India Arie Compassionate kinda love
That kindred Family soul kinda love
That make soul glow, and your spirit Grow kinda love
That poetic hip hop lauren Hill kinda love
That Vivian and Uncle Phil, Jada and Will kinda love
Yes That Kinda Love
As it Washes away my pain and let me dance in your love like the Summer rain
Kissed by a rose kinda love
Let's Cherish the day as if were are lyrics to the music sung by Sade.
Old school R&B; kinda of love
That Smooth Jazz kem music kinda love
That maxwell fortunate kinda love
That Babyface Whip Appeal so I know its real kinda love
That Cliff and Clair Huxtable Honorable and responsible Kind of love.
That Unlimited, Unconditinal, Uncommon Kind of Love.

That Purpose driven,
On a Mission,
Bringing The vision to fruition
kinda love
1 Corinthians 13 kind of love
You'll be My King and Ill be you Queen kinda of love
That Hebrew Royalty
Showing loyalty kinda love

I want that nourish your soul like Grandmas Homemade Turkey and biscuits casserole kinda love.
I want that Acts 6:3 kind of man with faith, prayer, and a plan.
I want a God fearing man who genuinely understands.
I want a Relationship like Boaz and Ruth,
Taking the journey together living in the Truth
I want a love that will fight for me just as Jocob did For Racheal and I promise I'll always be faithful.
Let it be Pleasing to God's sight just as Leah
But yet As wise As Solomon and The Queen of Sheba kinda love
I want that 1 John 3:18 Kind of love
That Unforseen kinda Love
As we Build like Noah and Nehemiah,
But Weep together like Jeremiah kinda of love
I want that Serve like Sammuel
And Pray like Daniel Kinda of love.
That love me like Christ Kinda of Love.
Yes That is my Kinda of love.
The kind of love I desire
Madeline Palm Aug 2013
Leadened yet floating
Arie to the eye
Awry to the soothing whispers,
Of the mother’s cry—
Once beleaguered without volition by self
Now with intuition wrought
Of memories of invisible battles both of fighting and of fought

While the sun shines ever bright,
The bustle a lively hue
Behind the fleeting colors lie
A darkness most uncouth

Oh these vivid pangs of the heavy vast
Seem to forever lie
Within the weightless acquaintance of the ever azure sky

The chains so heavy bite the heels,
But ever do the fated wheels
Spin towards the sun in the East
Towards the lively, the impassioned, the Peace.

The choice lies not within the sky,
Nor in the mother’s tearful eye,
Nor in the darkness of the cloud,
But in the fire refusing the funeral shroud.
Tashea Young Apr 2017
I'm
I'm from the land  overflowing with  milk and honey and my mind is more rich that The Europeans useless green paper money yes far from a dummy and like the dawn of day my personality is Always sunny.
I am a rare soul
On the outside I am just another hueman but on the inside I'm a being of the supernatural
I am a radiating rainbow
Shinning in between blue and purple
I'm the canvas of the star child so paint me Indigo.
I'm a lantern in the darkness of the heavily wooded forest, I glow.
My heart is as pure as the whitetess  snow
I am a farmer planting seeds, So, I reap what I sow.
I expand my horizons because the more you know the more you grow.
I am  vibrant just as  the stained glass window.
My soul is  a strong and fierce bolt of  lightening, quite powerful.
I am Fearlessly and wonderfully made in the image of  The Most High, Quite beautiful.
I'm an individual whose  energy is a current thats just flows.
Maybe because Love is My religion no matter where I go.
I was Created from the particles of stars hidden in the cosmos
Mixed with the elements of earth
Descended from the heavens, past the galaxy and from the wombman my spirit and body became one at birth
As it bursted thru my Earth mother, The Universe.
this body became both a gift and a curse
My life became as song unrehearsed
I guess thats why they nicknamed me lyrics because my words were my  hook and verse.
I am like many phases of the Luna very diverse
I am the moon that rises to rest in the midnight sky upon the evening shore as the cool ocean passionately kisses the sparkling sand.
I am the wombman with a vision and a plan.
I am India Arie, boosting your souls immunity. Healthy for you like vitamin C.
Loving me unconditionally
Embracing the Queen in me.
I am free!
I am Lauryn Hill opening your eyes to see the things that Are Real.
I am the peace that is still.
I express the way I feel.
I am Jill Scott giving you some food for thought.
Pay close attention because lessons are being taught.
I'm am Erykah Badu giving you something you ain't use to.
I'm Alicia keys Feeling the music putting my mind at ease
As the nature gives my skin goosebumps with its cooling breeze.
I am Janet Jackson giving you that that fire and passion.
lacing it with that poetic justice style and fashion.
Yet  I will have you talking to and looking at that man in the mirror like Michael Jackson.
Nat Lipstadt May 7
Adding minutes to a lifetime (saying magic words)

”And you, dear poet, friend of many years,
have given me so many inspirations, birthed within
us words,so oft, and so well, that your pithy observations,
manufacture time, add minutes to lifetimes

<>

wrote these words without thinking,
they’re sweet and neat, trivial but incomplete

but upon rear mirror review, Mr Poet
re-thinks, perhaps deserved of another serving,
curvy white, soft-to-the-lips, a moist vanilla kiss,
excellent ice cream in a sugar cone, words irresistible

for the sweetest poem sparks multi-coloration-explosion
of sprinkles ‘pon  a skin’s surface,
uprisings of what lurks in the centrum of your
embodied universe and disembodied soul,
shockingly uprising from an internal fulcrum,
sea~tossed flotsam of a jagged life, now, all recovered
words sprinkling, beach treasures, and yet,
*
adding minutes to a lifetime…

reliving old reels, is time recaptured, creating a
certain robust additive to thine cranking and
cranky engine, that’s logged much more than
a picayune hundred thousand miles on a voyage
of e i g h t decades, you employ ten fingers to
calculate your fugue of multi-voiced numerations!


can it be? it cannot be! millions upon millions of
minutes, possess and passed, yet highlight feature
films, enabling reliving so real that by watching,
seeing, believing, re-reading it is as if one is earning
life extensions…adding minutes to a lifetime…


‘tis true, rereading every small scrip, every poem,
returns one to prior-places, each a datum,
a particular spot, a point upon a schema of integrity & integration,
that rule the visions, a message of individualism
in the largest context of a true vision(arie)


“chacun un point dans une peinture pointilliste…”
“each a point within a pointillistic painting…”

in a few years, a stumbling upon shall here return me here,
and I will smile with great gratitude for the life extended,
accepting with gratitude,

these few seconds, a last lasting chance,**
to say some magic words
with a great vanilla whispering
adding minutes to you life as well


nml
may 5~6
2024
Kata Jun 2017
Of all the things I hate about people
It’s that when things are bad, we forget that they were ever good.
Our inability to say thank you for ever being.
Blinded by winter, we act like these barren trees
Weren’t once littered with flowers,
And their lush greens didn’t once smell of hope.
I understand that in winter, days move slowly and minutes are forever
But India Arie once sang, that after winter must come spring.
So put a jersey on, boil some water
And don’t lose sight of your humanity.
Of all the things I hate about people
This is the saddest
- Kata
When it's time to hurt, you will hurt.
When it's time to be happy, you will be happy.

In happiness, never forget your pain.
In pain, never forget your happiness.
Balance is key.
Niesha Radovanic Apr 2019
19 trips around the sun
I have conquered 6,935 days
burnt caramel skin hiking the nights
where I thought I would never reach Everest.
Lists of trials and tribulations laced
through my pantyhose
another trip all the way home.
Awake with the owls
scribbling poems and sketches
of the singing animals.
The buzzing of the bee kissing
the nectar of the new morning.
Another rebirth.
Another step closer until
this Arie burning goddess
can caress the sun.
A full embrace fire passion meeting star.
I have a star.
In a universe bigger than me or any problem.
I am a star.
Learning how to love and lift
the flowers in all gardens.
Planted in all different soils
but still will be sun kissed by my sugar lips.
A year of another chance to full bloom.
My petals open wide to possibilities.
A chance to unravel the hidden
petals of my mandrake.
To taste the juice of fruits
I did not know existed.
In a garden filled with wounded flowers
I will choose to love and honor this Eden.
To be a guru for those in need
of energy healing.
Using my garden therapy palms
to bless the scared soil of every
beaming brave being.
Coating their petals with lavender dust.
Relax my flowers I am here to love you
down to your roots.
A chance of courage.
I am warrior here to take on
the battle trips around my sun.
I will hold you in my palms.
Let your fire ignite
my dreams into realities.
Between sun and waxing crescent moon
I will chant the seven chakras.
Shout to my spirit guides
to take me on this adventurous ride
through the garden
under the sea
rocket ships to outer space.
Until I can make all my flowers believe
in this energy we hold in our stems
waiting to breath.
An inhale of tree and exhale of free.
We are flowers.
Dancing in the garden of life
Illuminating in the art of self love.
Be here with me in this very moment
as we embrace the
holy sun in gratitude.
Thank you for forcing me
to wake every morning
to triumph the days into the sunset
so that our fiery hearts can meet again
every April 8th.
Noah James III Feb 2020
When you return home, they see who you were and not who you are.
2. Those you've lost along the way were never really there and were always far.
3. Guard you heart, Keep your art safe.
4. You are only as progressive as your thought patterns, negative ways are only a waste.
5. Time will always tell and will never wait on you.
6. Befriend therapy and consulting without think its evasive.
7. "Can these wings fly?", asked the eagle right before falling out of the nest in the mountain.
8. "I am not this skin. I am the soul that lives within."-India Arie
9. This history month is FUBU...
10. Rihanna even said to imagine what we can accomplish together.

You must accomplish within before you can outwardly.
focus, goals, February, lessons, 2020, fresh
Jonathan Moya Jul 2020
You were unburied
10 years before I was born,
pulled from the Arie riverbed  
the day Nagasaki burned.
You died like a samurai
in your daughter’s arms,
bowels flowing,
head severed cleanly,
falling to the water
amidst the silence
of dead human trees
with their bark skin turned inside out,
among the screams of the living
realizing that not even water
can stop their burning away.

You were unburied
65 years before I was born,
killed by the big guns
with Conestoga wheels in the
ravine near Wounded Knee Creek.
You died running with your nursing infant
in your arms trying to touch the flag of truce,
your child still suckling long after
the Great Spirits call—  still suckling
as you were piled in the mounds
of mothers with no ghost shirts.
Others children’s children still
Ghost Dance and tell your lore.

You were buried
32 years before I was born,
shot in the back after
you had dug your own grave.
Shot in the back after
you had watched your house
burn in a kerosene blaze.
Shot in the back after
you knew the children
were safe in the swamp.
Shot in the back after
all of Rosewood burned
from the fury of white rage.
Shot in the back
until you were erased
from existence
except in the memory of tears.

What am I meant to do?
It’s summer and the
magnolias are blooming,
the cherry blossoms are ripe,
the black hills spruce
admits its forever mildew stink,
reminding harvesters not to
ever make it a Christmas tree.

I call out not knowing your names,
giving you invisible ones
that will reflect your death and life.

What am I meant to do?
Your unburied ash, spirit,
your buried charred bones
exists in wretched longing,
your names bleed into
the riverbed, the ravine, the clay.
I mourn as I freely travel the spaces
that others had trampled over you.

What am I meant to do?

— The End —