* Author's Note: I am a classical poet too by the way

I know that fear makes or made you go mute,
something inside you always unsettled since then.
Wanted it resolved without you being in the dispute,
waiting patiently (sort of) on braver men.

None to come or ever stepped up so it seems,
Ms. Ruby and Mr. Adams whispering bout ghosts.
But the truth haunts more than just their dreams,
I know it even if their mouths don't boast.

No one white nor black really is ok with this,
both races of human feel death the same way.
Know that no matter the color loved ones do miss,
cry for and talk to the lost when they pray.

Please stand up and speak to the silence if you can help us still,
give the fear up to God and let Him heal it like His word says He will.

Got word today of something that penetrated my wall
can't begin to tell you why it never crossed my mind at all
the victims had children that grew to be men
my baby too falls in the same class as them
the son of a murdered father for whom there was no trial
everyone knows who did it but no charges have been filed
as if the system is saying their lives were worth nothing
but to these children they were more than just something
they were role models and personal heroes
robbed of the opportunity to watch their blessings grow
the news hit me heavy in my heart and deep within my soul
giving me that much more urgency to ensure that their story is told
not just that of my husband of these victims too
I was asked to do something that had I known I'd have volunteered to do
I know how the holes never close and the pain makes you numb
no one had to explain to me once from which angle to come from
my pen speaks for my heart when my voice won't be enough
and both want them to know that we support them cause I know it's rough
in the same shoes myself in a way and it is a long road
full of emotions that never are the same always in tow
through every stage and phase of life as we progress
leaning on faith when there's nothing else left on which to rest
these weary spirits and heavy hearts on hard days
these kinds of things stay with you and manifest in so many ways
I know cause my baby too has a similar story to tell
or at least he will when he grows up like Roger's son did -
to tell of the day his daddy fell.

I imagine
as poets tend to do
if impossible were possible
and was thought to never be
could for just a minute sit
where I can see
what would Mr. Adams silence say?
45 years it spent stuck
buried deep within the soul
of a man who's own eyes
had had his childhood stolen
in a mere blink of those same eyes
he ran for cover and tried to hide
but when that that you run from
lays inside
you can not escape
there is no place that feels safe
and over time
the silence began to sprout vines
reaching toward the heavens
by way of his mouth
his body still shivering
as if it remained in the south
the words began to dance cross his tongue
as the now older man tell the story
of where that boy who saw it all
had come from
and where he went after
why never again the same
was the sound of his laughter
the silence spoke the close of that chapter
as he finally recounted what he saw
that hot summer in July
if Mr. Adams silence spoke
it would say the truth that was sought
but was too afraid then to even try

I sit and imagine that day
after Mr. Adams told the FBI
what he had to say
I'm sure both he and the silence
sighed and cried

Ms. Ruby remembers
that day in July when
those cars came rambling past
caught up in her cotton
didn’t second guess then
why they were driving so fast?
nothing more than the usual
to be thinking bout
feeding children and
holding on to faith in the face of doubt
round about the same time
Mr. Adams as a young boy
had the misfortune to be standing
where he could see what she’d heard
his own spirit too a victim
as it died a bit as he held onto
what he’d seen

Moore's Ford Mission Project Poem #1
and never said a word
unable to erase what took place
from his memory – the pain
from his face
thought to be just four lives
lost that 25th day
in 1946 at Moore’s Ford
but Mae was with child
8 months was the word
so five souls lay in unrest
Ms. Ruby and Mr. Adams
already have offered their best
they told the truth
to see that through to justice
has been endowed as our test
Ms. Ruby kept them alive in spirit
now we must give them peace to rest

Moore's Ford Mission Project Poem #1

Some think it taboo to discuss their political affiliation,
but I think that's part of why we make such poor determinations.
We don't talk about the parties and who we vote for,
and so they get away with so much shit cause we not paying attention anymore.
Having been raised by black Republicans I knew black folks were getting used,
by the Democratic party and the Republicans sat back amused.
How quick we were to give our unfounded loyalty,
to a party that wasn't even the one that set our people free.
See before Wayne Perryman wrote the book,
the truth was always there had you taken a closer look.
The Democrats didn't fall in love with black people they needed us,
they needed our votes and we gave them for some reason our trust.
Forgetting that most politicians are like used car salesmen,
they'll tell us whatever they have to just to win.
But after generations of ignorance being passed down thru our race,
we turn our noses up to black Republicans and say that they don't know their place.
Always throwing Bill Clinton up as our favorite President of all time,
and against our people he has committed the biggest crime.
To date...still - no President has built as many prisons as Bill,
and what color do you think the skin is of those that they were built to fill?
So while we liked him for smoking weed and cheating on his wife,
he was handicapping our whole race by taking the other half of how we make life.
And when the black men come home still won't matter,
they can't vote anymore so they don't make any clatter.
But Uncle Sam is sure to get your tax dollars though,
cause you gotta get a job and let Parole & Probation know.
For the record I am a registered Independent,
cause neither one of these parties have shown me anything consistent.
Before I start aligning myself because of misplaced resentment,
I prefer to stand alone because no one shares ALL my sentiments.
Stop looking at parties and look at your history,
then why all this is so important may shine thru to you clearly.

Dear Bob Johnson:

pardon me if I don't
bow at the feet of the man
that created us a whole station
then only broadcasted our lessor selves
acting a fool for the camera
as if that was showing
pride in our people

but you sir,
make me sick
didn't say shit
(poetically I mean)
bout you selling out
by selling us off
to the highest white bidder
ready to come in
and exploit us some more
but now you backing that bitch?

Going before the caucus
you playing Brutus
threatening to turn on
our brother if he don't
pick that woman
no where near our sister
or kindred spirit even
if he don't fall in line
like you did
for that check we know you got
to demand she save face
and get to stay on top
by being on the ticket
when really
she should have been stopped
long before now

tell me how
you even look yourself in the mirror
knowing you are like
the leaders of the tribes
that sold us into slavery
thinking only of
how to expand upon your billions
so your wife can keep taking her
monthly half
and you don't have to
sell a yacht or two
or the Bobcats?

For real man
it's people like you
that keep our people down
keep us from coming around
when it's another Black person
trying to build something
cause you left a
bad taste in our mouths
so we figure if you were their
role model than
they too must only know
one way how
to get out the grind
and get to the good life

but if you don't mind
on behalf of my son
that will still have to live here
when your dirty work is done
stay the fuck out of politics
and do what you do best
keep finding new ways
to let our stereotypes
find no rest
and selling it to the enemy
cause when you went off
bout her being the VP
you my dear - weren't speaking for me
we in Black America
are far more than you ever chose to see
and from where we sitting
you ain't got no idea
bout what we trying to be

for our seeds...

True,
they may not
build to compete
with the foreign automakers
but those are choices made
by people that won't suffer as bad
if something is not done there.

Please don't these people,
become pawns of politics
too much is at stake
see we are talking of manual labor
in a specific industry for many years
not college educated kind of knowledge
and finding other work almost impossible
but still
they have families to feed.

I know,
the cars they build
burn up gas and don't last
as long as a Honda but
the fact that they are built at all
keeps 3 million people employed
directly or indirectly
and they deserve a second chance.

Not to mention
it's the American thing to do
when anyone else does something wrong
they are ordered to restructure their lives
report to parole officers and piss in cups
like they could start building better shit
give Honda something to compete with

but

like anybody else
that makes good with a
second chance

they gotta make bail...

Every now and then
I take a deep breath and
jump in the bottom of the well
deep inside myself where
the lesser seen parts of me dwell
wading in pools of darkness
dimly lit by daring to sing out loud
and lay down in the echo
of my own inner most thoughts
cradled in vibrations and sensations
rocking me back and forth gently
flowing but never anywhere going
unless brought up to the light
long enough to wet the lips
and elongate life once more
before being plunged back into
the place made just for
things and thoughts like these
fluid and free...someplace to call home
far from captivity
my soul is the well of me...

...and he

he be whomever I pretend to see
in the puddle at that moment reflecting me
back how I want to see who I am
shifting slivers of light until his eyes
are seeing what I see as if he were in me
looking back out over the world
pouring passionately purpose into the people
at precise times in line with planets
aligned to christen the space and place
where the well and the water that runs beneath
come to meet...

blank sheet after blank sheet

*inspired by Bassey Ikpi...loved the concept!

This is a poem to the
dreamer of all dreamers
daring to dream beyond
those of herself
to include the dreams
of those she dared to love
documenting them on
paper with pen
daring to dream that
their dreams could live forever
in poetry....

This poem is for
the woman that forgives
but never forgets and yet
holds no grudges in the long run
always able to look back
and say she learned something
from where she came from
and smile....

This poem is for
the survivor that
refused to ever be a victim
so she revolted and yelled
everytime she was wronged
instead of folding in a corner
and stands tall
still...

This poem is for me
that loves helplessly
and reluctantly at times
learning to live with regrets
each and everyday that I breathe
and still be thankful
that I loved at all...

This poem is the thank Him
for still not giving up on me -
and bestowing upon my soul
infinite mercy
despite all my sins
waking me up
and giving me the chance
to do better
again and again...

This poem is for
the misunderstood
often misjudged woman
dwelling within a shell
that too often outshines
the essence of this spirit
that draws her energy
from her faith
when all else fails...

This poem is for me
to remember that in
all my tears throughout the years
came blessings on the other side
a reminder that no matter the trials
to never lessen my stride
because despite all the failed attempts
at something beautiful or great
my testimony is one
in which I can take pride...

This is a poem
for everything I've ever been
or hope to ever be
to remind me that no matter what
when no one else is there to
to always
always
love
ME!

Revenge of the Smart Chicks
name of an album or movement?
Depends on how much of it you take to heart
I see this sister as the Tyra Banks of poetry
trying to unite and enlighten woman
by what she can do with her voice and pen

Beautiful

understatement
also unrelated
cause she market her mind
not the curves of her hips and behind

Brilliant

now that sounds more like it
thru cyberspace she sends me
pieces of home to cure the sickness
of missing poetry as I once knew it
with all it's richness
so it's almost like I'm right there
back with my people

Inspiring

She sure is
make me remember
I was protesting the prostitution
of person's person via the pen
long before I joined certain
"poetry" sites
so I am indeed inspired
by this poetess

Enlightened

with the wisdom
that it will take a village
to raise our seeds and more than
hot lines on a mic to fulfill our people's needs
and those of all of humanity
and I almost put the pen down
but then I started reading her words
and the confirmation of God
that I was on the right path
was all I heard

Blessed

I am to have met her
is E to have her as his partner
are we that she even cares enough to share
demanding genius as if it's a dare
and dismissing genre without a care
cause she know like I know
keeping oneself in a box
limits the ability to grow
to full potential

Thankful

Indeed I am
and I want to thank you ma'am
cause you reminded me I do this
like I do this - and all won't like
but I'll always have the love and support
of my fam
and that's all I need
so into 2009 with a renewed resolve
to piss off whoever wants to remain ignorant
I shall happily proceed
preaching peace and prosperity
to the people
praying that they take heed

and to you Queen...

I just pray you touch everything of which you have ever dreamed

Have you ever heard of her?
She that is one of us
a poet - like you and me
only the 4th poet in history
to be asked to read
at an inauguration in history

Allow me a moment
to school you to she
that teaches and reaches
with pen and voice
accredited around the world
Nobel prize runner up
and keen technique
to sum the black experience up

If never before
than let today be the day
that you went in search
of what this poet had to say
she speaks for us
unasked and unapologetically
as revolutionaries often do

we can't wait for invitation
not in the face of moral devastation
while so many revel in
victim's jubilation
we still got work to do
even though we are "free"
I told you
she's just like
you and me

And Tuesday afternoon
she will be standing on the stage
a part of history permanently
a poet embedded in it's page
from now until eternity
if you don't know Ms. Alexander
than go and learn about she
the poet and the woman
that is one of us
scribin' to survive
and change the world
one line at a time

just like
you and me