Pleasing Agony
by LambeCheecha
Copyright: © 2008
In between silences
Apathy echoes
In the emptiness of my chest
You could have dug into my flesh
With the dullest of blades
I would have welcomed your knife
Because those cuts
Would always scab & heal
I wonder if you think of me.
Sometimes I can't find words
To speak
Of my sorrow
The very definition of
Misery
She loves your company,
& so does everyone else
You threw away.
Now you're back,
Lies-
Against the wind
& on my loneliest of days
I can hear you,
Like a song
Among the trees
Banging in my head
Banging
Along the leaves
Panic
Through manic emotions
Pleasing agony-
You could have lifted me.
But you left me
Here to hang,
Dangling
From the tips of your fingers
Hooked on
What it feels like
To die.
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Of Coltrane's "Naima" and what wasn't.
by Safia
Copyright: © 2008
Your footsteps remind me of traveling and
I heard Coltrane in the rhythm of your breath;
For just that moment I could have been Naima
And you, the
Tenor trickling like molasses through piano-key raindrops
But for now,
They can be nothing more than quiet teardrops
Though you don’t know it yet;
No, not yet, but please
Don’t give up on me.
I could have sworn that I was Coltrane’s Naima
And you, the tenor soaring and swooping;
There were poems in the melody the song made when
It harmonized with dusty sunlight on early mornings
And the rhythm of your breath
No rush, knowing you had yet to give up on me, knowing that
Right then you weren’t going anywhere
Your footsteps sounded like traveling but
Hurt like leaving,
It’s become misleading like that ever since we
Stopped saying what we meant;
The tenor fades and now there’s
Just piano,
Raindrops spattering our poems into the dusty sunlight
Early-morning gold darkened into molasses as
You trickled away and
The song ends and
You gave up on me.
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21 Gun Salute
by Tre G.
Copyright: © 2008
Here lies a soldier.
But today he won’t be spoken of
as a servant, merchant, nor mercenary,
but merchandise,
for his life is now in the hands of the Lord,
like so many jewels used to fuel the feuds of fools.
How ironic men would honor these tools
With the weapons they use for warfare
HALF LEFT FACE!
Detail turns at pointed pace,
READY!
Rifles raise to air in line,
AIM!
All at the same time,
FIRE!
First volley,
his mother blinks,
taking her eyes off the coffin encasing his body
for the first time,
and in her mind rewinds the clock
to those first moments of morning sickness.
To the first time she witnessed his eyes
steering back at hers with fear, comfort, and wonder
READY!
Her vision blurred by tears denying to be refrained
AIM!
Pain propelled by memories of late night talks over board games
And all the forgotten names of the girls he brought home.
He was her blood;
Her bone.
The closest thing to a clone known to man
And it hurts to bury your own in the ground
With the sound of rifled rounds for a choir
Setting your soul on…..
FIRE!
Second volley,
Wife sobs calmly,
unlike the day he told her
“I’m being shipped.”
And the fit she threw once she knew
this war had claimed her husband.
She loved him from first sight to last kiss
and the in between details of a marriage
that ended with a video message,
and her attempting to kiss his glass lips
“I miss….
READY!
….you….
AIM!
….so much
I can taste your essence
On my tongue
And the lack of your scent in this air
burns my lungs like….
FIRE!
Final volley sounds,
And little boy stands with eyes cast down.
No tears, or snotty nose,
Just a rose
to be dropped
on a closed casket.
His first memories of pain
Will be of his father’s passing,
After laughing just three months ago
And watching him from the bedroom window,
waving,
like the smoke from those rifles
in the brisk wind of this cold winter’s day,
Goodbye.
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Black Girl Lost
by Poetic Assasin
Copyright: © 2001
She had a 1 ½ inch scar under her left eye
Some would have gone crazy
Some thought it was sexy
She played it cool
Even though waterfalls stopped when she received
An identical scar
Under her right eye
The night sky was the only thing darker than the-
Pain she felt-
Her self-esteem would melt
Like a hot iron to polyester
Each semester her grades would fall-
A black girl lost Because she couldn’t see the Devious plans. Making her Effort to succeed go unnoticed.
Her speech would draw blanks like unsharpened pencils
So she thought there was no point to living
Giving- attention to a man who couldn’t stand
Her sight
Would sit down to the fact that she was beautiful
Would act unusual- everyday was Halloween
He would trick her by saying lets go out to eat
And would treat her bad out of spite- Only she
Knew that after 630 pm, she was still a sunny delight
He only liked- when the lights were out
And all he had to do was take it out
And put it back in
The morning
While others were getting refreshed
She had to digest numerous threats of “make breakfast quick”
Wanted to break fast quick-
After he used a stick to cause harm to her arm
Turned skin into complexions of crushed plums
Would hush some
In a tiny closet so quiet you can hear the faucet water drip
Slipped up with a cough- insides went soft- as footsteps grew louder
Sprinkled powder on her face- hoping it would take her back to days as a baby
Cause the man she married had gone crazy
Being lazy is has pastime
Cheating is his pastime
Beating is pastime
All she wanted was time to pass so he could fall asleep
Tired of donating blood to the ground without receiving milk and cookies
So many hits in the head that her
Memory would play hooky
Her memory would play hooky
Look he / would him at her face- with wood/ he would hit her/ and would not stop/ just cause splinters / would split her in pieces / wouldn’t stop cause he wouldn’t drop the 2 x 4 and she wouldn’t put him in 8 x 10- friend! I love you- through caked blood on lip- baked when he jumped ship from husband to enemy- took she- black steel- so she could feel- power, but a shower of sense gave her regret-
Still felt death on the back of her neck
Checked herself as a queen without a king
Took the ring off her finger
And opened her eyes before they were swollen completely
Defeat he
She couldn’t
But wouldn’t
Stand the rain any longer
Used her brain as an umbrella
Didn’t need a fella and left in the heat of the night
Didn’t no where she was going
But all she kept saying was
I will be alright
I will be alright
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This Almost Was A Love Poem
by Lambecheecha
Copyright: © 2008
i remember seeing myself
face first
lips grazing the ledge
backing the walls
corner to corner
shading the shadows
even doubt has its moments
for clarity;
i revealed,
sections
& pieces
of intimacy.
sections
& pieces
i let no one see,
i showed you.
& you
fixed on point.
dagger to throat
hand gripping heart
spoke-
no words.
your silence
slices through my body
leaving me;
emptied-
from my hopes,
diminished-
of what i desired.
refined to being,
rejected
& tortile
listen.
the wind whispers where
once my affection tolled
hankering the cries of my heart-
break,
the pain of tomorrow
growing into the next.
& what do i regret?
putting myself out there on the edge,
sliding into your reticence.
confusing
what never was-
us.
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