Monday, August 18, 2014

Just Like Me

Some will say
why subject yourself
to so much pain?
Why let a tear fall,
it's their fault,
let it be
their downfall

When the levees broke,
I watched
from the comfort
of my home,
while bodies lay bloated
and afloat
on NOLA flooded streets
I cried loudly,
sobbing miserably
because all I could do
was make a donation
while people
in the Superdome
weeped

When Billie sang
of strange fruit
hanging from southern trees,
I wasn't born yet
but I could still smell the scent
of dead flesh
lingering in the breeze
Those colored folk,
people of great faith
And little means,
they don't mean
no-thing to me

I've glimpsed images
of festive gatherings,
smiling faces
while joyously cheering
the burning flesh
of a young black man
nailed to a cross

I've seen armored tanks,
with gas masked faced
police officers swarming
on a town
of peaceful protesters

Too many names
to list
of senseless murders
of unarmed men, women, boys and girls

Young black babies
used as bait for gators
Railcar porters smiling and cheesing
as they catered
Ms. Rosa Parks,
God rest her soul,
too tired to move any further

Garvey trying to make away
for us to get back
to the Motherland,
only to be stopped
by J Edgar's racist hand
Martin spoke
about a dream,
not yet realized
Even Malcolm
changed his outlook
to give peace a try

Bob's prophetic chants
so many years ago,
so much trouble in the world,
I still feel it
way down deep in my soul

We're always in the back,
behind closed doors
Masta rapin' and impregnatin'
young slave girls
Jefferson couldn't even deny his seed,
just like good ol' boy Strom did
indeed

See,
it's not that
I intentionally
set out to see
or hear
or be
in the midst
of these injustices
and atrocities

I cannot help
but to feel
the pain they feel,
hear what they hear,
see what they see,
I've got sons like them,
a daughter like them

See
Those theys'
and thems'
and us' are black,
... just like me

©Sharbi3 2014

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Father's Day 2014

My youth were raised in a single parent household ...

I am a woman, a mother, the nurturer, the gentle touch, the soft spoken voice of reason. Sure, I've been the disciplinarian, the breadwinner, the household repair person, the lawn care provider and many other roles that may have at one time been gender assigned. But one thing I am not, is a man. I will never be a father. I didn't teach my sons to stand up and pee, I couldn't possibly understand what it's like to be a he. I haven't taught them how to shave and I learned to tie a tie by practice. I will not ever be as strong as a man nor will I pretend that I can. Sure, I may wear pants, but with a feminine stance. I am only one half, the X, he provides the Y and determines the sex. It takes us two to create a youth and when the one day comes around a year, I'm going to give him his just due. I'll not take this time to steal his shine. I'll not add a tag to pin to his coat. I'll not take away his masculine energy. I will promote him and acknowledge those men that do. They fill the role that their supposed to. He cares for his seed and teaches them the way.  I give him all his props this and every other Father's Day!!!

Wishing all the fathers and father figures out there taking care of, providing proper guidance to and raising their youth (or taking on the responsibility for another man) a Very Happy Father's Day. Bless⬆


Sunday, April 13, 2014

9.5/30 - Melancholy in the Interim

9.5/30 from napowrimo.net :

"And now, our (optional) prompt. Today’s prompt was suggested by Bruce Niedt. Here’s Bruce’s explanation: take any random song play list (from your iPod, CD player, favorite radio station, Pandora or Spotify , etc.) and use the next five song titles on that randomized list in a poem.
Happy writing!"




Melancholy in the Interim

Daaam
screaming 
why 
you 
couldn't 
do the right thing?

I've always 
been here for you
through 
the times 
when your sorrows 
painted 
the skies 
blue

When 
you 
were 
so caught up 
in your dreams, 
your 
rapid eye movement 
drew up plans 
for your next
scheme
Never realizing 
that you 
weren't trapped
in a tunnel 
subversively stuck 
underground
You 
only needed 
for your thoughts 
to wind down
A relief 
just to bring 
back 
your 
peace of mind

Wanting 
subconsciously 
to hear the roar 
when the people cheer
Yet 
your ears 
were too clogged 
with the negatives 
of 
your imagination

Sadly, 
standing here 
above the ground 
where 
you're 
now 
interned
I wish 
you 
would have 
held on 
a little longer
Instead 
you 
gave up, 
couldn't wait 
until 
it was 
your 
time 
to shine

There's now no next time...

13/30 - A friend

13/30

I wanted to write a song for you
But I didn't know where to begin
I reached into my memory bank
The first thought was friend

Since the days in junior high
I can't remember a time you weren't by my side
Through thick and thin
Ups and downs
You were always there to turn my frown upside down

We'd often laugh at the silliest of things
When I would forget the lyrics
You always remembered the words to sing

When I was down and out
I turned to you without doubt
You'd provide the comforting words
Or unleash your wisdom
Or lend me your courage

People are placed in your life path for a reason
Often traveling in different directions
I'm glad that our lives met at the perfect intersection
Although we may not always agree
Finding a friend in you was a plan that was meant to be

12/30 - Why The Wind?





from napowrimo.net Day 12 of National Poetry Month, write a 'replacement' poem in which you choose a noun and an intangible item.

Noun = music 
Intangible = (the) wind

I found this article about music at The Economist (http://www.economist.com/node/12795510)

Why The Wind?

If the WIND be the food of love, play on, give me excess of it. 

And if not? Well, what exactly is it for?

WIND is a big part of the economy. 

Bring the WIND to the living rooms and picnic tables.

Today, people are so surrounded by other people's WIND that they take it for granted.

Other appetites, too, have been sated even to excess by the WIND.

What appetite drives the proliferation of the WIND to the point where the average American teenager spends 1½-2½ hours a day—an eighth of his waking life—listening to it?"

An idea that is widely touted is that the WIND binds groups of people together. 

The WIND is a cross between an accident and an invention. 


"It is an accident because it is the consequence of abilities that evolved for other purposes. And it is an invention because, having thus come into existence, people have bent it to their will and made something they like from it."



Thursday, April 10, 2014

10/30

10/30 'advertisement poem'

Prompt from napowrimo.net:
" Today, I challenge you to write your own advertisement-poem. You don’t need to advertise Burma-Shave. Any product (or idea) will do. Perhaps you could write a poem advertising poetry? It certainly could use the publicity!"




Sun, Get Some

Inner-g getting low?
Don't jump out da win-dow
Just let your Soul glow
Sit back, ⌚ the blues go


Sun, get that in your life

Take a step outside
Spread your arms wide and lift your head up to the sky
Let the rays warm ya insides


Sun, ya need it to survive

Makes vitamin D come alive
Available most days
Even more plenty-full in the Spring and Summer times
Doesn't even cost a dime
Just a likkle me time

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

9/30



I threw my hands in the air
Crying out to the Most High in despair
Here my cries Great Universe
Know that life here on Earth
Hurts for most
We struggle
Strive
Care for those who could care less
The weight of this burden
Truly a heavy load
Guide my spirit ancestors
So I may trudge this uneven road
Too often we think we know the answers
Then something hits us and 
You find yourself returning
To from that which you came
Purposefully put here to endure
God is counting on you
To make it through
When you feel down and out
Yell Out
To the sky and speak your peace
Sing your praises
Let the tears fall as they cleanse
And heal


The universe hears all
It's the air we breath
It surrounds us
It blankets us in comfort
I throw my hands in the air
Holler if you hear hear me
Do you care
A chorus of thanks I share