JANAE MARIE

"FOOLISH" Foolish is the way that I feel For passing up something that could've been so real Thought I was over you until I saw you out the blue didn't know what what to say when I saw you again that day All those past memories started floating back into my mind Reminiscing of times when I just couldn't stop thinking of you and all of the things you do But enough of dreaming because your gone now But how I wish I could see you somehow Foolish...is how I feel Foolish...is how I have to deal With thoughts and feelings I have for you Now I must wait until we meet again Hopefully, we can just be friends. ©2012 Janae Marie Thanks Janae! Submit your poems to: nightwriterblog@yahoo.com Administrator reserves the right to edit all submissions

BRYAN WINSLOW

KID LOGIC My son came to me one day And asked me “Daddy, if I get older what can I be?” and before I answered him I corrected him Told him that the question isn’t “if” but “when” you get older And he boldly told me that I was wrong because Ryan in his class told him, that his mother said that it’s not always a given To see another day if you’re young, black, smart and male So he had now taken the stance that his tomorrows are not promised Thereby making it "if" as opposed to when And I smiled And frowned Because this wonder before me, God’s creation Had taken the time to think and criticize what his father had said to him And he came to him for wisdom Yet the answer that would have to given could not be shortened There had to be a lesson and so I told him that He could walk on water if he believed in himself Because the Word told him that he could do all things And accomplish greater things than Jesus had done With His assistance and strength That whatsoever he fancied in his mind to design He could fashion He asked me about the young boy in Florida Who he was sure had heard the same from his father before What about Him? And I told him that though I had no answer I would do all I could to make sure that that was not how his story ended That his mother and I conspired on the wisest way to guide our seeds And we would depend on the Father to grant needs and wants And abandon those things that haunted us as children So that our children never knew abandonment or poverty Like her and me Yet he inherited the very best of our unified we So he could be whatever he wanted to be Told him that I told him this frequently As I regaled him with stories of our history And memories of a strong community As opposed to the Brothers Grimm bedtime stories And instilled thoughts of peace, love and justice in him And his siblings And I wanted to tell him that contrary to what Facebook tells him He is not Trayvon Martin Like Martin wasn’t Malcolm and Malcolm wasn’t Martin Because I fathered him correctly Rightly, making sure he knew that Righteousness and justice were synonymous In the Greek And reality is not the garbage he sees So scripted on TV And in the end that justice wins That the good guys win and Every Zimmerman pays for his sin But I’m not into telling fairy tales To growing young black boys, so I tell him that With God all is possible That Christ’s hand rests upon him, but it doesn’t mean that He’ll never know struggle That even though he would have been sheltered from the harsh pain of actuality Because his mother and I knew better to show him and his siblings better There will be times as a young man that he will doubt the necessity of his very existence And he will have to fight for respect and equality to be given at all times Not because he is less man than the next man, but because Fallible man is so much man and Not everyone recognizes the God in his brother But I promise him that He can be whatever it is that his mind dreams him to be That if his vision remain clear then he could Without a doubt in my mind, go beyond where his father has climbed Exceed further and see more than his own personal Moses had traveled That he has the capacity to be exactly who he, his parents and his God says he can be Extraordinary So that if his own son, my grandson, were to come to him one day And ask if he were in danger of being a Trayvon if he wore a hoodie That he could tell him easily ‘Son, you can be more Barack’ than Trayvon if you so choose to be Because the world has evolved so much from what grandpa has seen And praise the Father because you have inherited the earth, and a Kings' dream All because my father taught me Against what society taught him And married him a good woman Who never had to be concerned with Lil Wayne teaching her how to love Who understood that love and relationship journey with fidelity and commitment Like this, fingers intertwined And they raised a testament to it In me And I tell you that you Never have to fear a hoodie combined with candy and iced tea As my father told me, The world is in danger of you being whatever you want to be This is prophecy I think forward As time rewinds itself back to this moment Where I face this little boy with brown eyes Wide, whom I call mine And guide him, teach him Talk with him about this beautiful gift Of life And for him to make it as he is to me Extraordinary ©2012 Bryan Winslow Thanks Bryan! Submit your poems to: nightwriterblog@yahoo.com Administrator reserves the right to edit all submissions

TALYA CHATMAN

BLACK IS NOT A COLOR











Black is the written language I put to paper.
The shadow of ink that runs through my veins.
Black is the power of my words
Expressing my essence,
Compressing my thoughts,
And allowing me to access the poet that lives within me,
Waiting to sing, to scream, to cry, to whisper
What it means to be black.
I, Too Sing Mr. Hughes.
I Wear the Mask of Dunbar.
I am the Outcast of McKay.
And I play a Dark Symphony with Tolson.
I am the softer voice of Malcolm X.
I am the ferocious roar of Rev. King.
I am the education of Mr. Douglass,
And I’m not afraid to show it.
I own this.
I earned this because I learned
What it means to be black.
It is not a color,
Or the lies we tell each other
That we are here for one another,
But envy will cut a person’s throat
To get what they have,
That they earned, because they learned
What it means to black.
Taking short cuts leads to a short life,
So try learning the lesson
Instead of stealing and defining black
In your misguided terms.
Black is you; black is me.
Black is in everything we see, we hear, we touch, we speak, we know,
And from black we will grow into the persons we are meant to be,
But black is not a color.
It is the spirit, the history, the mystery, the misery;
It is the fury, the peace, the promise, and the hope
That lies deep within everyone’s soul.
No, black is not a color.
Black is beautiful, and black is love.

©2012 Talya Chatman

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MARTINE TUREAUD

LOVE







Love, am I invisible?
Did my heart not call out his name?
Were his feelings just so miniscule?
Or was Cupid just shooting without aim?

Love, I am not to be outdone
but why have you left me to fend for myself
I don't want to learn this lesson
I don't like the cards I have been dealt

Without dwelling in the negative
How can I be positive?
When I have all this love to give
To the one who has no intent

Of giving it back to me
My heart has painfully
given it's all, you see
Please Love, set me free

Love, you were only a guest
you didn't come to stay
so take this suffering off my chest
and give me dignity and point the way

To a place of freedom
To a place of peace
So that when I feel I need him
The pain will begin to cease

It's more than just the lonliness
I feel like I have nothing
It's a terrifying emptiness
and even more...gut wrenching

I'm trying to be the friend
I have no regrets of those moments I shared
But now that it's come to an end
Conversations are so hard to bear

But because I love him so
And he loves her now, I know
Love, I have to let him go
So that in their hearts you'll grow.

God blesses me everyday
so I'll take my blessings and run
Eventually, I know I'll be okay
I guess love is not for everyone

©2012 Martine Tureaud

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SAVERIO CARUSO

UNTITLED






She looks at me, I look at her.

She looks at me, I look at her
It always starts with a glance
But this glance turned into a dance
She looks at me I look at her
A feeling takes over that I cant control
She winks, I blush
You can say she got me in a trance
With the look, wink and dance
She looks at me, I look at her
On our first date, she pulled the chair
I stopped and glared
She could be the one
It’s a feeling I can’t control
Just a kiss on the lips
Sealed the deal
She looks at me I look at her
She’s dressed in white with a vale
covering her face
I wink, she blushes
And now you may kiss the bride
She looks at me, I look at her
It’s truly a feeling I cannot control.

©2012 Saverio Caruso

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KESHA MURPHY

Love Hate








I've reached a love...
that's like the sun...
this love high is like....
Soaring higher...
low ,then higher....
with skylight...lit...
which are pleasures of my affection,
enduring and manifesting
all my saved-up wishes...
words of regret start coming out.
We all know the expression of this
thing called unconditional love ,
anvils...
and fills voids in my heart,
toys with my mind...
but, is endeared in my soul...
each and every time...
you hurt...
my pain...
aches...
you cry...
my tears flow and interlace with yours..
during your sadness...
when your angered...
it steers my sanity...
into an perspective view...
as your face then lights up with gladness..
through it all you must remember...
my love for you is unconditional...
will continue to burn
my heart remains yours and stands firm.
Every time we embrace
our lashes of sorrows...
loads of problems
And love hate passionately meet...
during this unconditionally...
cycle of our love hate!

©2009 Kesha Murphy

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FIORDALIZA CHARLES

I WAS LOST...










I had no sense of direction
Did I mention...
I did not know another way
But...
Now that I am FREE
I think I understand
Why I've never been in love
I was too busy
Chasing
Replacing
and never gave Love a chance
I just, wanted to be romanced
Even tried to
Blame others for my flaws
Because
I did not know
How to love
I was living in...
The illusions
Dissolutions
About love
Who was I to trust?
Can you blame me?
Love did not come easy
There was no manual
Instructions
or
Introduction
I had to learn
The Hard Way
Everything on my own
Like a baby crawling to walk
One Step at a time
I was lead to believe
I knew all about love
But
I was such a fool
Because
I was like a child
Without a clue
In the world
Lost
Left alone
Confused
But...
Now I know
That
In order to love
anyone
I
must
Love
Me
Too

© 2012 Fiordaliza Charles

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BRYAN WINSLOW

LADYFRIEND I.M.










sweet voiced temptress with
dark brown tresses who
offers me no stresses but
causes pulse to quicken often..
find out that i soften the hardshell surrounding me
around you..
call you sometimes,
just to hear the sound of you
possibly saying i'll call you black
Grin to myself
I'm ok with that because,
i can wait...
Hate the fact that I'm gumpish around you
And i know that gumpish isn't even a real word
But that's part of what I'm saying to you
I take the risk of sounding foolishWith the hope that maybe, you'll feel a little more comfortable
Special
If i tell you that I'll never call you baby
And mean it
And if you feeling special means that i have to call you by the name
Given you, which may prove to be quite an obstacle to me because
I barely call anyone by their given name
(I mean I call my mother Mom, and Grandma never named her that)
Then, i got you
Hello ladyfriend

Copyright 2011 Bryan Winslow

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BRANDON VITTNER

I Am Poem








I am thoughtful and hopeful.
I wonder why people think I'm a sophomore.
I hear my mom is getting better.
I see my grandparents getting older.
I want my dog to be a puppy again.
I am thoughtful and hopeful.

I pretend I'm still in middle school.
I feel like I'm growing up to fast.
I touch the pen in my hand.
I worry my dog won't be alive for another year.
I cry that my family is falling apart.
I am thoughtful and hopeful.

I understand that I need to be responsible.
I say I will be successful.
I dream to fix many problems.
I try to do the best I can.
I hope to leave a permanent mark in the world.
I am thoughtful and hopeful.

I Am Poem
I am bored.
I wonder when school is over.
I hear blah, blah, blah.
I see random words on this page.
I want to go home.
I am bored

I pretend I'm listening.
I feel like I'm going to fall asleep.
I touch the pencil and pretend i'm writing.
I worry I might miss my bus.
I cry inside that i want to go home.
I am bored.

I understand I should pay attention.
I say I want to go home.
I dream of going home.
I try to stay awake.
I am bored.

Copyright 2011 Brandon Vittner

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RONELLA ELLIS

UNTITLED





I’ve been released from the sterile touch of potential
Awakened
Seeing Steel ice bars convincingly warmed my perceptions of love in the past
No longer held captive
Melting in the poetic prose of time space and
the opportunity
To welcome an alternative theory of persistence

Waited for you
Waited for dreams to come true blue and maroon
these palpitations my heart drums would strike a cord so voluminous,
its power could beat light and sound across the finish line
I’m finished lying
To myself
without acknowledging your lack of matriculation
I’ve completed the course from which you’ve withdrawn Thinking
I was a head of the class
Never realizing as I passed love notes and wrote papers that
I was in a class all by myself
Looking for a nutty professor to teach me about the sanity of love
The sanctity of love could not evolve from this madness
Turns out you became a fad just
To disappear in a trend fashioned by selfish designer labels
Labeling my intentions an inner tag reading:
Made in your USA (Unavailable Sorry Ass)

And I uncloaked myself in you
I soaked this garment to wash by heart and hand
That which was too delicate for machines
Unable to handle the toss and twist of a full load
I rinsed and rung out tears that stained this cloth unclean
And hung you out to dry
Watching you drip away moments concealed in a factitious future
Causing me to become naked once more
And stand in a mirror with full appreciation for the stretch marks
Marking a stretch/my growth from this experience and for that I will always love you
Your garment called hope initially stood missing from my wardrobe when we met
yet became a uniform that imprisoned me
but faith broke me out from captivity and allowed me to add hope to my wardrobe
it became my fall/winter attire
now faith will retire fall and winter to weather the season of spring
planting the seeds to cover a land
cropping the confidence, clarity, and compassion needed
to materialize the reflection of a queen’s
essence as free flowing as a summer breeze


© 2011 Ronella Ellis

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