Woman of the night,
cannot be seen with the human eye,
hides where there is no light,
hides where she cannot be seen in sight.
Of whom we never seen,
never found,
never heard a sound.
'till this evil creature of the night is found and out of night's light
we can all sleep without night's fright.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
My Eyes
Staring in my eyes
You see another statistic
A sixteen year old mother
Raising a fatherless child
Struggling to stay in school
And take care of my family
Staring in my eyes
You think you know my story
A ‘Good Girl Gone Bad’
Or just an act
See I experienced so much
I’m trying to make myself whole again
Staring in my eyes
You see something dark
Something like the devil
But truthfully I’m super sweet
I play my role
And act the way I do
But truthfully I’m just like you
Staring in my eyes
You see beauty and passion
Except I see something different
I see a soul gasping for air
I see a child with a terrifying past
A past unknown to the world
Staring in my eyes
Hopefully you’ll see the real me
And no the girl I used to be
Not the girl next door
Not the stereotype society thinks I am
For I am unique
Now you know my story
And why I act like this
Why I have such hatred
Hatred for the world
Hatred for my abuser
But not hatred for my child
For he will be nothing like his father
He’ll be a better man
Respect women and their decisions
For he’ll support and protect his family
By any means necessary
Stand firm in what he believes in
Never letting anyone get in his way
My son is my greatest gift
Conceived through a bad situation
My son is my blessing
Friday, July 22, 2011
Love Is Blind
It was all fun and games, til somebody got hurt
Thought you were different, not like them
Guess I was wrong, Y'all all the same
Just took you longer to show your true colors
It was all lies & deception
You were toying with my heart
Never thought of how I would feel
Just wanted your little fix
Thought I was somebody special
Called me your baby girl
You smiled in my face
And destroyed my world
Thought about you day & night
Laying restless, waiting to see your face
Should've seen it coming
Guess that's the meaning of "Love is Blind"
Looked in your eyes, in search of your soul
Couldn't see anything, they stayed closed
When they finally opened I saw the truth
I'm so much better without you
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Jahanam (hell)
In this barren land of chaos and disaster,
pleading eyes of help reach up to me as if I were their savior,
but I am not,
I am only a mere human being.
Their bodies resemble the weeping willow stems
which pendulates with the wind –
unable to control their own movements.
Their clothes sag upon their bodies,
and the bones poke through their skin
like a thin layer of canvas stretched across
a board... an artist ready to paint their story of their life:
a life that is no longer theirs.
A light sparks in their eyes
when they see the men dressed in camouflage
from head to toe,
armed with guns,
they appear to be the sip of water
that one encounters when breaking fast.
But all the interest has been wiped out of their hearts
when those very same guns which were seen as a utopia
are the very same ones which keeps them shackled,
and bound in their miserable state.
Eyes that used to animate with gaiety,
are now replaced with eyes that are lifeless...
it's almost as if they've been burnt out.
pleading eyes of help reach up to me as if I were their savior,
but I am not,
I am only a mere human being.
Their bodies resemble the weeping willow stems
which pendulates with the wind –
unable to control their own movements.
Their clothes sag upon their bodies,
and the bones poke through their skin
like a thin layer of canvas stretched across
a board... an artist ready to paint their story of their life:
a life that is no longer theirs.
A light sparks in their eyes
when they see the men dressed in camouflage
from head to toe,
armed with guns,
they appear to be the sip of water
that one encounters when breaking fast.
But all the interest has been wiped out of their hearts
when those very same guns which were seen as a utopia
are the very same ones which keeps them shackled,
and bound in their miserable state.
Eyes that used to animate with gaiety,
are now replaced with eyes that are lifeless...
it's almost as if they've been burnt out.
Complexions
(Sing) I'm no beauty queen, I'm just beautiful me.
Why do I have to sing a song for everyone to know that I'm beautiful both in and out....side my skin color always being judged by my different complexions. Like a new home buyer going to home depot to pick out a color for their rooms. Maybe they'll pick red, but no that will remind them of the blood my people shed to get to where they are today. Or maybe brown the color of my people or better yet the color of the whips my fore-fathers got beaten with and have the spider-legged scars to prove it. How about orange, green, or purple. .No not that either, it'll remind them of the trees my people hung from like Bill Holiday strange fruit. Just dandling dead, just waiting to be picked from by a stranger craving the juice of the "forbidden fruit". No matter the color of the room they have they can change it later. But what you can't change is my history, skin, race, and people. We went through the Black Holocaust but we broke free and living as we choose. But for some reason all the rights we fought for and died for we still don't use it to our advantage. Even though Rosa Parks sat in the front of the bus we still walk to the back, fought for non-segregation education of our home land animals, cheetahs and lions, and fought against slavery but still have black mothers picking and cleaning up after Caucasians because they can't find any other job offer.
But flaws and all we are all still children of God. And like butterflies we will make it through the rain because there is a road we are traveling and we lost many on the way and still are. We are now the majority but falling in great numbers and going down the ladder. My complexion doesn't tell you much besides what I am. But what if doesn't tell you is where I'm going. I'm making my own history, a new chapter in the textbooks. But that's a secret. Ssshhh.
Why do I have to sing a song for everyone to know that I'm beautiful both in and out....side my skin color always being judged by my different complexions. Like a new home buyer going to home depot to pick out a color for their rooms. Maybe they'll pick red, but no that will remind them of the blood my people shed to get to where they are today. Or maybe brown the color of my people or better yet the color of the whips my fore-fathers got beaten with and have the spider-legged scars to prove it. How about orange, green, or purple. .No not that either, it'll remind them of the trees my people hung from like Bill Holiday strange fruit. Just dandling dead, just waiting to be picked from by a stranger craving the juice of the "forbidden fruit". No matter the color of the room they have they can change it later. But what you can't change is my history, skin, race, and people. We went through the Black Holocaust but we broke free and living as we choose. But for some reason all the rights we fought for and died for we still don't use it to our advantage. Even though Rosa Parks sat in the front of the bus we still walk to the back, fought for non-segregation education of our home land animals, cheetahs and lions, and fought against slavery but still have black mothers picking and cleaning up after Caucasians because they can't find any other job offer.
But flaws and all we are all still children of God. And like butterflies we will make it through the rain because there is a road we are traveling and we lost many on the way and still are. We are now the majority but falling in great numbers and going down the ladder. My complexion doesn't tell you much besides what I am. But what if doesn't tell you is where I'm going. I'm making my own history, a new chapter in the textbooks. But that's a secret. Ssshhh.
America!
America! The patriotic nation, red, white, and blue. Land of the free, Brotherly Love.
Yeah we got brother all right. Brothers beating up other brothers because their bobbing eyes and drooling mouths staring at his girl they call shawty. Looking as smooth as caramel, just like New-New from ATL. We got our historical brothers, white folks turning into our Brothers, cursing, yelling, rapping like Eminem trynna catch their umm swag. Just trynna be like everyone else they get beat up. And it's sort of funny almost like the brothers are getting revenge in spite everything that the white brothers have done in the past. But what they don't understand is that they're just repeating history and making it worst.
America! The land of the free, the land I want to be..
And the taxes are getting high and my money is getting smaller. I'm being suffocated by the abs on the internet, bills, taxes, making bank accounts, plus getting loans for tv's and phones that I don't even have a house to be in. Trying to climb this long ladder just rying to get to middle class. Trying to reach the next step but now I'm being suffocated by the governments plans and yells. Making me less of myself. I'm fighting. Fighting for my survivor. But also fighting to keep a dollar just to buy a popsicle to give to my ever starving child that wakes in the middle of the night crying. And I can't do nothing but sway her to sleep like rock a bye baby just waiting to go back to sleep and be silence. You know, like that waiting in the clinic silence.
America! Brotherly love! The land of the free. The land I can escape from so I can finally be free.
Yeah we got brother all right. Brothers beating up other brothers because their bobbing eyes and drooling mouths staring at his girl they call shawty. Looking as smooth as caramel, just like New-New from ATL. We got our historical brothers, white folks turning into our Brothers, cursing, yelling, rapping like Eminem trynna catch their umm swag. Just trynna be like everyone else they get beat up. And it's sort of funny almost like the brothers are getting revenge in spite everything that the white brothers have done in the past. But what they don't understand is that they're just repeating history and making it worst.
America! The land of the free, the land I want to be..
And the taxes are getting high and my money is getting smaller. I'm being suffocated by the abs on the internet, bills, taxes, making bank accounts, plus getting loans for tv's and phones that I don't even have a house to be in. Trying to climb this long ladder just rying to get to middle class. Trying to reach the next step but now I'm being suffocated by the governments plans and yells. Making me less of myself. I'm fighting. Fighting for my survivor. But also fighting to keep a dollar just to buy a popsicle to give to my ever starving child that wakes in the middle of the night crying. And I can't do nothing but sway her to sleep like rock a bye baby just waiting to go back to sleep and be silence. You know, like that waiting in the clinic silence.
America! Brotherly love! The land of the free. The land I can escape from so I can finally be free.
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