redder than the blood
that spilled to make them.
glistening dark skin
rich, white cotton.
sunday picnic baskets.
the finest leisure day clothes,
black bodies drifting
in the summer breeze.
an orange rolled
by withered black hands.
a sweetness to cast off
the sour of sickness.
too many mouths;
not enough chicken
or eggs or vegetables.
only cents, instead of dollars.
the living not shared—only cropped.
anywhere but here.
pack up and head north.
where nigger is negro,
still bitter and stinging,
long car rides
to grandmother’s house.
ten kids to two rooms,
but we complain about six.
still dirt roads.
strange fruit has
rotted to the ground.
now bullets chase
along with the summer breeze.
I have tumbleweeds stuck to my lips.
Do you taste them?
They scrape and scratch my skin with
every new name.
Continue reading Desert Disease by Angelina Valdez
The temptation is towards silence
but the noise always seems to win.
I yearn to empty my days of everything but you.
I’ll be burnt but I accept the scars.
See, morning is nothing without a dream to chase,
but while the waste of a generation fades
and days wait only for the moonlight,
my world illuminates in the dark,
where death is a spark,
a spike to the heart,
when all is unsaid,
and the hunger is fed
I contemplate greed
and the silence becomes nothing but a reason to bleed.
The ink is a seed
and everything chases the sun.
– Chris Eyes
the exorcist of my demons
the water that puts out the fire in my mind
the surgeon that stitches the shredded pieces of my soul back together
the angel on my shoulder that keeps the devil from ruining me irrevocably
Continue reading What poetry is to me by Ayesha Noor
A garden filled with lovely red roses, I chose a white rose
I started to stare at it meticulously before light of the day goes.
I wondered how it never felt alone, never felt unwanted, never felt left out
I plucked it and its thorns cut through my skin how words do when humans shout.
Continue reading Handful Of Love
Braids like Justice,
eyes like Iesha.
home late from
a war-riddled day.
first on the queue.
wine & Nayyirah Waheed.
::. Rico Lowe Jr (@panafrico) Continue reading Braids like Iesha | Rico Lowe Jr.
if you come knocking at my door
turn the knob and enter
this time I won’t answer
I’m tired of rushing to greet only to get disappointed.
I’m sorry for giving up right on your turn
it’s unfair of me to judge you
based on the actions of the ones before
or their lack thereof.
it’s ok to make yourself at home
get acquainted with the lonely rooms
pay attention to where the shadows form
I’m tired of providing only sun
and blooming when there’s no one to care for.
if after all this you decide to stay
if despite all this you still want to make home
my heart is yours to tame
my soul is yours to love.
one last word of advice, though
beware of full moons.
The tides get high
and I’d hate to drown you too.
© Máh Lima
Photo by Albert Dera on Unsplash
Here’s to fragile egos
falling like games of Jenga.
Watch it crumble.
Watch it crumble.
not really humble
a paranoid psycho
afraid to start a conversation—
but I walk a tightrope
cruising on fumes
running out of hope
that’s the saddest shit I ever wrote.
Photo Cred: Hamza Abdulilah
How do you want people to remember you? What is the legacy you want to leave behind?
Most of the time, we expect people like world leaders or big-time entrepreneurs to have answers to these questions. And when asked the question, everyone wants to give the impression of doing something huge that would probably be mentioned in history books later in life. But guess what, you don’t necessarily have to start big. You can start by changing one person’s life; just one heartbeat at a time.
You may not have the capital to start a home for the orphans and the homeless nor the resources to organize a crusade to win the lost but you can be a friend to someone who dearly needs one; you can be a comforter to someone in dying need of consolation, you can be a provider for someone who lacks. All it takes is to have the passion and the compassion to care for someone that much to help him or her succeed in life. Make that person your life project.
At age 20, you may still be in school, not have a part-time job and still confused about what you want to do in future and have some attitudinal problems, but the right mind and heart, you can change a life- you don’t have to buy the person gifts; just be a friend and the person will appreciate you forever.
At age 40, you may not own a house or a car or have a stable good job and may be facing some problems with spouse and children but it is not too late to turn things around. Make things right with your children. Teach your children the love of God and appreciate each one for his or her unique qualities. Appreciate your spouse for giving you the family you are so proud of. Be a parent and a mentor to a colleague at your workplace or your neighborhood and share in his or her success and failures.
At age 60, you may have watched your children settle in good jobs and in marriages and you may be enjoying good times with your spouse reflect on the significant quality times spent with your children growing up. You may have finished helping your children establish but there may be someone who needs your support and counsel to establish himself. You could talk to that addict to convince him or her that there is more to life. You can tell him God cares for matter what he or she has done.
You may be retired and be nearing the grave and you may be thinking that you wasted your life because you didn’t do anything concrete for people to remember. But trust me, the seed of support, advice, and companionship you gave people may leave them indebted to you even after you are long gone. Your legacy could live on and on when the people whose lives you impacted do the same to others. And surely, God will also reward you and say, “Well done, my faithful servant.”
Photo Cred: Anton Darius