The Poetree

TEDDY PENDERGRASS,LUTHER VAN DROSS,ASHFORD AND SIMPSON,THE MUSIC THAT I PLAY..IN EACH OTHERS ARMS,UPON THE BED WE LAY..PASSION HEIGHTS WE TRY TO OBTAIN..MAKING LOVE, WHILE LISTENING TO THE FALLING MIDNIGHT RAIN..FULFILLING EACH OTHERS FANTASIES AND DESIRES..PASSION GROWING HOTTER THAN FLAMES OF A FIRE...SATISFACTION,EACH CARESS AND KISS CONTAINS.MAKING LOVE,WHILE LISTENING TO THE FALLING MIDNIGHT RAIN....MAKING LOVE,SMOOTH,NICE AND SLOW..LOUD,THE SIGHS AND MOANS THEY GROW..SURROUNDED BY 20 BLACK CANDLES GLOWING FLAMES.MAKING LOVE,WHILE LISTENING TO THE FALLING MIDNIGHT RAIN..TO EACH OTHER WHISPERING ROMANTIC LOVING WORDS..WITHIN PASSION IS ENHANCED AND STIRRED..ENJOYING …

WITH SERPENT TONGUE,THESE UNITED SNAKES OF AMERICA..AS VENOMOUS AS,PUFF ADDERS,BOOM SLANG,VIPERS,AND THE EGYPTIAN COBRA...THESE WHITE SNAKES DO NOT SHED THEIR SKIN..THEY GATHER IN BUILDINGS,CHURCHES NOT IN A SNAKE DEN...THESE SNAKES DO NOT SLITHER,THEY WALK..THEY DO NOT HISS,THEY TALK...THE VENOM THEY SPIT,IS WHEN THEY SPEAK... BLACK AND BROWN PEOPLE,IS THE PREY THEY SEEK...LIKE THE BITE FROM THE SERPENT'S FANG.IS THE EVIL UPON PEOPLE THEY BRING..WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION,UPON THE WORLD THEY BRING....IN AMERICA FROM THEIR RELIGION,RACE HATRED,SEGREGATION,ETHNIC CLEANSING...CHRISTIAN RELIGION AND CHURCH,THEY PORTRAY...EVIL WICKEDNESS,…

THERE''S A CHRISTMAS TREE JUST INSIDE MY DOOR. AS I SIT LISTENING TO OSCAR PETERSON CHRISTMAS MUSIC,THINKING ABOUT THE PAST MORE AND MORE.AS I PUT NEW AND OLD ORNAMENTS UPON THE CHRISTMAS TREE. PUTTING A BLACK ANGEL NEXT TO THE STAR FOR EVERYONE TO SEE./REMEMBERING JOYFULLY CAROLING IN THE NIGHT.THE CHAOS PUTTING UP CHRISTMAS LIGHTS./IN BED CHRISTMAS PRESENT FANTASIZING..CHRISTMAS DAY FOOD ALWAYS APPETIZING..CHRISTMAS DAY HEARING THE OLD BLACK CHURCH BELL RING.PREACHER READING SCRIPTURES., CHILDREN CHOIR SINGING WITH A BLACK NATIVITY KING..COMPASSION FOR THE LESS FORTUNATE, JOYFULLY GIV…

SHE WALKS IN PROUD DARK BEAUTY.WITHIN HER EBONY EYES THERE IS MYSTERY. .HER ESSENCE SPIRITUALLY FREE WITH WARM GRACE.RADIANT THE SMILE UPON HER FACE.HER SOUL LIKE THE SUN GLOWS..GENTLE AS A PEACEFUL RIVER'S FLOW..HER NATURE IS TO BLOOM LIKE A FLOWER. ,REJUVENATED LIKE NATURE AFTER A SUMMER SHOWER...

Greetings.For a moment your silliness has infringed on my consciousness .Can you feel it? My glorious mind impinging on a pathetic anorexic excuse of yours.Apart from your causes you are *nothing*. You and your apish mind are evidence of evolution. I am PROOF there is a God. What else but an omnipotent , benevolent being would allow sublime symmetry and beauty to grace you? You *are* your causes. Watch as i add one more. See how you are, As your adrenalin ,anxiety ,your primitive secondary nervous system goes into overdrive. You feel it don't you? Yes that's it. How your muscles twitch as you get into your primitive animalistic flight or fight mode. Your s…

1. Reading, understanding, knowledge acquired is not really knowing the magnitude of dreams not realized because the spark was put out, before the flicker could catch on fire. Be sympathetic to the appraisal that was born to ignite the desire’s eye, because there is a turning to reach the yearn of the creative thought that must fly. Your interpretation of my awareness will have you wondering why the lies, it was because my soar frightened those setting still, simply put they feared I’d pass them by. Looking down to contemplate the rational that sends fear threw to the core f us. …

We are the radaince of beauty and i believe that god gives us a great life and we can love ourselves and others,i am a poet and a writer,and i thank you and god for this beauty life we have ,and we are who we are and i know for sure that god loves us and we can live a good wholesome life....stephanie wynn(ms.stevie)

This is a tale...no..two tales..well the other is really a song, of things past. The first is heard most eloquently in the nostalgia elders ,as they speak of a time. A time when life was life..and death was ..well..Another life. When little children would gather around warm embers and be told in soft words of those gone before. Now they smile..Not hoping for this kind of death..But in a way happy ,happy that they can remember tales of when the wind whistled through stone walls..When the term "the destroyers" .."va Rozvi" ceased being a verb. Of how the Rozvi forged empires through plains of ignorance and placitude, ruling unquestioned with the spear. The other tale/…

Do I kill you when I take your life? Or do I kill you when I still your future, These are tangible questions, that people of color ask every day. Is life lacking a future more than existence without breath, do we breathe when we are being choked out of a dream or a hope, because as we roam these roads that are paved with the blood of the colored individuals, we realize we have only learned to cope. We say we are free and equal, when freedom and equality are bridges that seldom meet, so many man made rules that were created to rule and decide my fate. Freedom was not ever free just check out the militaries death rate. Equality comes 2nd in comparison, for your so ca…

TODAY IS,LIKE YESTERDAY,AND DAYS BEFORE/ AGAIN IT IS UNITY THAT I SEEK..TO MY PEOPLE I TRY TO SPEAK.WONDERING,IS UNITY BEYOND THE REACH..INNER CITIY NEIGHBORHOODS,DESOLATE IN RUINS , THEY HAVE BECOME ACCUSTOM TO IT./THOSE NOT IN PRISON,THEIR MINDS,SPIRITS CONFINED AS IF THEY WERE IN CELLS.MY VOICE UPON THEM ,NOT HEARD, ,LIKE YESTERDAYS SILENT RAIN THAT FELL.//TO MY PEOPLE I TRY TO SPEAK,TO THOSE I GREET.TOPIC OF UNITY,SOME TRY TO ELUDE.. OTHERS UPON THEIR TIME,I SEEM TO INTRUDE/IN COMMUNITIES,I LISTEN,BLACK LEADERS,NO VOICES OF UNITY AND PURPOSE.MANY BLACK PEOPLE SAY,BLACK LEADERS THEY CANNOT TRUST...WHEN WILL WE REALIZE THAT THE ANSWERES LIES WI…

http://tajimag.com/sistahood-by-evelyn-d-hall/ Sorry that my poem, "Isn't Slavery Dead? didn't get posted.

WHAT A JOYOUS DAY, CHRISTMAS MORNING.A JOYFUL CROWD BEGINS FORMING. THE OLD BLACK CHURCH BELL RINGS.THE CHOIR BEGINS TO SING. /PREACHER BEGINS READING THE SCRIPTURES. CHILDREN DOING THEIR CHRISTMAS PLAY..A BROWN BABY KING IS ON DISPLAY.PREACHER SAYS,LIFT EVERY VOICE/LET YOUR HEART AND SPIRIT REJOICE' / EVERYONE SINGS,SILENT NIGHT,OH WHAT A HOLY NIGHT,JESUS CHRIST THE BROWN SAVIOR WAS BORN. HALLEUJAH/SILENT NIGHT HEAVEN LIGHT DID SHINE BRIGHT,ON THIS DAY JESUS CHRIST THE BROWN SAVIOR WAS BORN...HALLEUJAH.

Another year has come and gone, The time of year we make goals for ourselves. Goals, that we fail to keep, for instance: Plans to lose weight and not stay up too late, Save money and spend less, Not to make our lives such a mess. That we will be more loving and peaceable, And not always feel right. That we will admit to our wrongs, And refuse to fuss and fight. That we won’t fail, but will try, That we will be truthful and not lie. Why do fool ourselves into making resolutions? Because...we are human.

Shame on them I have no wish to be gay no wish to be black or neither white but I do wish to relate with love, understanding, compassion. God’s universe created me with a team purpose, to share the uniqueness, beauty, of what is a Boricua, Puerto Rican, Taino, Africano. Exactly what or who I’m, as you are proud of what or who you are, sharing the uniqueness, beauty, your team’s purpose. We come from the same supplier spirits painted by the brush of God’s imagination, wrapped in different art frames, released, shipped to the planet. As I walked the stree…

I IMAGINED I WAS UPON THE AFRICAN SHORE. OBSERVING THE WAVES, HEARING THE OCEAN ROAR..MOTHER LAND,ANCESTRAL HOME,AFRICA I STAND. SPIRITUALLY JOURNEYING UPON AFRICA'S ANCIENT BLACK LAND...IN THE DISTANCE, SOUNDS OF A LION PRIDE..I RESPECTFULLY OBSERVE THE ANCIENT AFRICAN TRIBES.CARVINGS,POTTERY ,MASK,BEADS AND BASKET WEAVING THEY MAKE BY HAND.SPIRITUALLY JOURNEYING UPON AFRICA'S ANCIENT BLACK LAND..AS TRIBE ELDERS SPEAK,MY KNOWLEDGE THEY ENHANCE. WOMEN OF THE TRIBE THEY JOYFULLY DANCE..WITH THEIR DRUMS,,,TRIBE SOUNDS LIKE A ANCIENT RHYTHM BAND. SPIRITUALLY JOURNEYING UPON AFRICA'S ANCIENT BLACK LAND...BY THE ZAMBEZI RIVER, A OSTRICH, GIRAFFES AND FLAMINGOS..ELEPHANT …

Lonely Fools A lonely fools search for love, is long and hard...They've yet to see...loneliness is not the issue. Lonely fools search for love...forgetting to search within themselves; viewing things and people with the eyes of their world, rather than the eyes of their soul. A lonely fools search for love becomes easier as they pray. After a few or several tries, they see that God gives you what you pray for, only to show you that he always has the best road... Sometimes what you want, isn't what you need... Lonely fools fight too hard against loneliness... They don't value the beauty of being alone... Are they really "alone"... The word says that we are never alo…

HOW THE TRUMP STOLE CHRISTMAS http://pollardpost.blogspot.com/2015/12/how-trump-stole-christmas.html

Young. Mariah. Loves. To. Read. .She. Is. In. The. Library. Every,Week,, She. Sees. So. Many. Books. Upon. The. Book. Shelves. She. Loves. Choosing. Books. To. Read. Herself. .,Page By,,Page. Reading. Line. By. Line. She. Embraces. Learning. ,Imagination. In. Her. Mind. Books. About. People. Animals. ,Places ,,,Science. Fiction. And. Mystery. . She. Learns. About. Herself. ,And,,Her. People. From. Black. History. .So. Many. Places. She. Can,Travel. To. And. Roam. .Without. Leaving. The. Library, Or. Her. ,,Home. Young. Mariah. Knows. In ,School. She. Can. Succeed ,,,Because. She. Loves. To. Read.......

Finding the colony in the metropolis of Albany discovering naked mind dressed in style with a red tie bypassing the mourning of those who went and those that were blown away. Stonewalls and Rockefeller signs of things kept public to keep it from becoming public. Manolo is polite He does not wear polyester suites stays away from rice and beans drinking martinis speaking English without broken-down clues. Manolo sings in the cold winter and all the politicians buy a ticket to his annual fund-raiser. Manolo is happy to have a godfather dancing by his side.…

I wrote this poem at the beginning of this year. I was at a point where I didn't quite know how I felt about love. I had fallen in love and he had fallen in love with me. So, it only made sense to be in love together, but it wasn't that easy... because of fear. The fear of trying and crashing and burning. The fear of losing love that we hadn't even taken a chance on. But to live a life lead by fear is to not live. I decided to live, and at every turn at least love. At Least Love I’ve come to the realization that love is differential. We all receive differently. We express differently. But at least we took the opportunity . . . …

WHOM AM I? I am a woman, Black, African From a lineage of Steel, depth, sweat, blood Tears ‘n’ resolve. Grandma opened not a vogue magazine She held a hoe Dug the ground Planted seeds. She dined on her labor Backbreaking. Hard. Labor. Her fingertips caressed cocoa pods Lovingly prepared cocoa beans. Brown gold they call it Yet her tongue savored Not one chocolate bite Did she even care? She spawned Ma Ma spawned me I succeeded her, and those before her Grit. Nerve. Poise. Strength From a long line of strong underestimated women, I come My blood tells a story, history is alive …

We are having the wrong conversation here. Our government is like Hitler oh the movies they will someday write. The history that will be written for such a time as this. The things in this that we are willing to compromise. So my question is exactly what are they attempting to distract us from. Could it be the new one world order or are governments just having fun. When looking back on history when did the dirt appear. Some of the true to life adaptation are only now being made clear. Create fear. Use the Jim Crow theory divide and concur rewrite history until we all get weary. But really when thinking did the government do anything for it's people. They lured us in promi…

It's respect for them. I wear the mask knowing covid is a joke. I wear it because it gives some a misguided type of hope. I don't wear it because it makes me feel any kind of safe. I wear it because so many fear man that God had lost his space, place, time in that life so when others walk in fear I put the mask on because they think this will save a life. My war is not with you but we voted this mess in. It's about dividing and conjuring as so many relationships will end. It's misinformation fed to us everyday and we get lost in the words because we all refuse to pray. We are not asking the right questions and they take advantage of that as well, they gave us cell phones …

"Your writers are invited to submit their poetry, fiction, or essays for our June 2010, issue. For details visit: http://www.thewritersliterarymuse.com" Michael D. Brown Editor

Rainy. New. Orleans. Sunrise ,Silent. Rain ,Black. Mamba,,Venom -Feathers. From. A. African. Black. Crow. Into. The. Cauldron. -Last. I,of ,The,,Ingredients. For. Voodoo. Priestess. Larkspur McQueen. -Potion.-Her. Her. Color. Changing. Curse. Is. In. Motion.. She Sends-Her African Black Crow Into Kingsley Alcorn House To Put The-Curse Upon Him While He Is Sleeping .. When He Looks ,Into,The,Mirror A Black Man He Will Be Seeing.. Proud Racist- Kingsley Alcorn ,Hates People ,Brown. ,Red. ,Yellow ,Black. Yesterday.At. Protestors,, He. Vocally. Attacked.. . When. Kinsley -Alcorn. Awakened. He. Begin. To. Scream. And. Shout. His. White-Sk…

Sick and Twisted is your name Disgusting is your life New white order is your game It cuts like a knife But your end come swiftly With your doom attached All the evils you have done Is coming right back You deserve nothing But all you've ever given And all deserve anything But your cruel way of living You terrorize compliance You bomb them into slaves You lie like you breathe Then ask why they misbehave Your look is unknowing But is sin itself You are never worth it You cannot be helped But tomorrow bring a thing The world needs like …

TIME OF YEAR AGAIN, AGAIN KWANZAA HAS NOT BEGUN. KWANZAA CANDLES IN THE KINARA,UMOJA-UNITY HOLDING UP THE BLACK ONE.IDEAS AND SOLUTIONS, CAN BLACK PEOPLE UNITE AND SPEAK.DO NOT BELIEVE UNITY IS BEYOND OUR REACH..WILL BLACK CHILDREN BE TAUGHT WHAT KWANZAA MEANS.WITH UNITY BLACK MEN CAN STOP BEING VILLAINS AND FIENDS.BEGIN TREATING BLACK WOMEN LIKE QUEENS..,..BLACK MEN CAN BECOME ANCIENT AFRICAN TRIBES..WITH DETERMINATION AND PURPOSE COMMUNITIES CAN THRIVE...WE ARE CONQUERED, BECAUSE WE HAVE BEEN DIVIDED.PREACHERS AND POLITICIANS WORDS HAVE MISGUIDED..... WITHOUT UNITY, SELF ENSLAVED WE WILL REMAIN./////UPON US WH…

Twas. The. Night. Before. Christmas. ,All. Through. The, Neighborhoods.. Within The. Misery. And. Despair. ,People. Were. ,Up. To. No. Good. Christmas. Carolers. Begin. To. Run.. After. Hearing,The. Loud. Sounds. Of Guns. .Crack. Sellers. Selling. Crack ,On. The. Streets .Prostitutes. Selling. Themselves. To. Men. They,Try. To. Meet. Thugs. In. The. Streets Prowling. .Planning. To,Break. In. To. Homes. In. The. Apartment. Buildings...Those. With,Presents. Under. Trees. Will. Be. Stolen. By. Fiends. And. ,Thieves. Upon. The. Streets. Covered With Snow .Laying. Upon ,The. Ground. Are. Wino's .Preparing. The. Sermons. Black. Preachers. In. The. City. Everywhere. Will.…

Do they see how they've destroyed No, the world is their playground And people their toys Do they know how they lied They do not care It is put out of mind They touch and harm anything they see They convince everyone This is how it must be They've pretended it could not be better They plotted it all out They work together The pale demon dwellers The ones of a colorless cruelty The whited out things of nature Them that carry the devil's duty But in time they will know fear They will know what they have wrought Til then the…

Hello! I am new here. My name is Regina Shepherd, I am a poet from the Bronx, New York and am interested in a book review for my poetry collection called Lalibela. The ISBN-13 is 978-1724991010, the publication date is July 6, 2024 and it is a paperback priced at $10. Lalibela is an account of coming home. Inspired by stories from the Boogie Down Bronx, this collection is from the perspective of a Black female millennial that left home and returned to its dilapidated realities. Lalibela holds within its reams the fatigue and redemption of a working class family of the African Diaspora in the West: the lively avenues, bus routes, love li…

TO NERO'S LIONS,THE FALSE PROPHET AND HIS SHEEP.ON THEIR PROPHET'S COMMAND THEY JUMP AND LEAP..THEY SPEAK,FOLLOW GOD'S COMMANDMENTS TEN..THEY SPEAK RELIGION TO CONDONE THEIR OWN SIN...TO NERO'S LIONS,THE FALSE PROPHET AND HIS SHEEP.IN CHRISTIAN CAMOUFLAGE, WHEN TOWARD SIN THEY CREEP... ..HALLELUJAH JUMPING DOWN AISLES ON CHURCH SUNDAY.OTHER DAYS,LIKE PREDATORS,POUNCING UPON THE EASILY MISGUIDED AND SPIRITUALLY SEARCHING,THESE CHRISTIANS THAT PREY..TO NERO'S LIONS,THE FALSE PROPHET AND HIS SHEEP...WHILE PREACHING HIS SERMON,THE PREACHER BEGINS TO WEEP..PREACHER SPEAKS,YOUR SOUL GOD CAN FREELY ENHANCE...AFTER THE,PREACHER'S PERSONAL USHERS HAVING TAKING UP ANOTHER…

Love at first sight you can say hey I know what I like and I love what I see put you in the middle she’s JuST for me flirted at every chance I get never was one to quit teased me wit the leggings knowin’ I would want a feel JuST a pitch to see if it’s real. Well, at least I tired how about a bet or a quiet deal just a kiss anywhere but I expect the lips took a while for us to enter this relationship lets not break up over fights those situationships work it out for the relationship always seems to bring me back when my hands go around those hips. Damn girl you even smack your lips in between every kiss dis your ex everytime I see him JuST to get him pissed we wen…

I found this forum some time ago and I recently remembered this poetry section. For a long time I’ve been needing to express feelings that I’ve long kept buried. Most of my brothers express themselves writing lyrics but that’s just not for me I like to see the words on a page (or screen).I’m not educated and I’m just pulling what’s inside me out for the world to see and I hope it’s good enough for your fine forum. I want this to be a snapshot of the black experience in the uskkk, my journey through life and my lessons about what love really is. Here’s the first installment. My Neighborhood Through the boy’s young eyes the neighborhood seems vast and …

We. Were. Slow. Dancing. To. The. Dells Song. Oh. What. A. Night,That. Was. Playing.. .Outside. A. Rainy. Thunder. Night.. ,We,Eating. Chocolate. Rose. Petals. On. The. Bed. ,Planning. To. ,Make Love. By. Candle. !ight..We. In. Love's. Embrace. .With. Joyfully. Smiles. Upon. Her. Face.. Loving. Words. To. Each. Other. ,We. Express. ..Each. Other. We. Slowly. Caress.. .Slowly. Caressing ,With. Anxious. Fingertips. ..Each. Kiss. Brings. Such. Bliss...The,Passion. Rising. Like. A. Wild. Fire.. Surrendering. To. ,Each. Others. Desire....Gentle. Sighs,Love. Making. Cries,,,Of,Love..,Love. Moans. Louder. Than. The. Thunder. Above.......We. Tell. Each. Other. We Belong. .A…

They have done a damage so deep, very deep We cannot make one peep, not a peep They fight to keep everyone asleep, deep sleep And all who know who they actually are... do weep They are the extent of evil The weight of wickedness The stretch of sin And the depths of depravity The white Pale Colorless Them... Truly Hateful Evil Monsters

Please enjoy this piece from my collection, Lalibela: Where I’m From Where I’m from we make the love. We live. Sometimes falling always walking in. Seasoning with fine herbs: sautéing, marinating, frying, stewing, boiling, baking, or just plain cooking. The sorrows work their 9-5 and on Fridays we send them home early. We play the songs, move the furniture and make the fun. Or we go outside to spread good airs, laughter and body movements. Kids run, preoccupied with children things. Teens dance, adults look on and the elderly nurse…

Congo. Jungle. Village. Racist. White. Men. Come. Near. .No. People ,No. Sounds. They. Hear. ..But. Then. They. Cannot. Flee .Returning. To. Their. Village. A. Tribe. Of. Angry. Hungry. Pygmies..The. Racist. White. Men. Are. Put. With. A. Killed. Baboon .They. Will. All. Be. Eaten. Soon. ..With. The. Racist. Men. And. The. Baboon ,.Putting. Horned. Melon ,Wild. Mango. And. Apples. Into. The. Cauldron ...They. All. Gather. The. Food. Is. Done. .......The. Pygmies. All. Prepare. For. The. Feast. ...They. Drink. African. Tea ,And. Coffee. , The. Racist. White. Men. ,The. Baboon , ,The. Fruit. ,, They. All. Eat. ......

My. Beloved. And. I,Walk. Among. The. Garden. Flowers. In. The,Spring. Sun. She. As. Beautiful. As. The. Flowers. ,That,Blossom!. The. Birds. Welcoming. Spring,Sung By The,Thrushes.. As Butterflies Fly Upon The Rose Bushes.. We ,Walk Among The Cherry Blossom Trees. With A Feeling , Of,Bliss,Pleasure And Ease. . Our Love Like The ,Flowers,Grow.. Within. Our Love Warm As The Spring Sun,Rays Glow. We Embrace. And Kiss Beneath The ,Tree,Shade. Hoping Our Love Will. Never. Fade....

Please enjoy this poem, "Black Boy, Black Girl" from my collection, Lalibela: Black Boy, Black Girl A Black Boy Black Girl So Black So effervescent That they marvel truly the privilege of life. So Black that they will stand in showers under sun and sweat in church at the park Sitting in class on their bedroom floor and wonder at their fearfully dimensions each breath, novel the way only children can. Truly Black that My breast must ambition to speak kind, ripe, Black, questioning and an answer. …

I’m a soul food diva You can have your Barbie doll, size one, low fat lifestyle I’m a sista who’s built to last— Fine, beautiful and strong You see, I’m a soul food diva I was raised on… Pork chops, black eyed peas and corn bread That’s why my hips—strong and wide—can give birth to twins I named... Malcolm and Huey I’m a soul food diva I was raised on… Fried chicken, biscuits, mashed potatoes and gravy That’s why my thighs—so warm and creamy—can hold any lover in place I make them scream... Hold on! Good God, sweet mother of grace! I’m a soul food diva I was raised on… Sweet potato pi…

Hello everyone! I'm JonRenee', author of Poetic Lyric Verse 1 A contemporary style of poetry with narrative poems with an infusion of songwriting lyrics! Check out my "About The Author Page" on Amazon.com/author/jonrenee Thanks for your time and support! The Color of Love.docx

Rainy. Christmas. Eve,Cold. Wind Blowing,We. Have. Finished. Shopping,And. Caroling. .We. Are. Drinking. Mocha. And. Relaxing. We,Slow. Dancing. To. Soul. Romantic. Christmas. Songs On The,Radio. As We Joyfully Kiss Beneath The Mistletoe..She Captivating,Enchanting,Such A Delight.. She Will Help Make My,Christmas Bright. She As Sweet. And. Lovely. As A Rose. As. We,Joyfully Kiss Beneath. The Mistletoe...

When. Each. New. Ghetto. Day. Arrives. Zora N. Dubois. Reality. Is-A-World. That. Is. In. Despair,Poverty,Impoverished And. Deprived..-Her-Mother. Works,But. Each. Day. Is. A. Struggle. To. Survive. To. Keep ,The. Ghetto. The. Ghetto,Racist White Gather To Connive. ..Teenage-Black Girls She Knows ,Have Gotten Pregnant ,Joined ,Gangs,Use.,Or,Sell Crack Their Long Ago Dreams No Longer ,Thrive.. But Zora Inner Strength,Purpose ,Dedication,Embracing--Knowledge ,Is. Determined To. Beat The. Odds. And. Highly. Strive....

Again thanks for the positive love from all of you. Don't forget to stop by Amazon and purchase a copy of my collection of thoughts, "PALMER'S POETRY". Hard copy available through Amazon or direct ship. Thanks. J.P. #Amazon

Am I too clingy? Gosh I hope not But you have a way about you And it says a lot I need the brilliance of your boldness The wonder of your wisdom The power of your protection The vitality of your vision I want to be yours And cleave on for life I could wonder if that'll happen Someday it might But for now I can admire And admire, I do And that is how I choose To cling to you

Dear Eve, Re: Poems for Issue 9 Love and Something Thank you for your Etchings poetry submission and for your interest in Ilura Press. Unfortunately on this occasion we have not selected your work for publication. We wish you all the best with your writing and please continue to submit poetry for future issues. Regards, Tim Collins Poetry Editor Etchings

Another Graveyard Of Slaves. Looking.At Them,A Eerieness Toward Me Creeps. Crumbling Slave Headstones,Spanish Moss Covered Trees,Trees Upon The Ground,Crumbled Headstones Beneath. Among The Bushes,Unmarked Slave Plots All Around...Wondering About Ancient Slave Burial Grounds..Stealing Away,Slaves Helping Slaves Escape.Those Caught,Whipped Or Death Was Their Fate. Runaway Slaves,Caught By Demonic Slave Catchers And Their Demonic Hounds.Wondering About Ancient Slave Burial Grounds..Century And More,Slaves Bones Have Become Dust,Some Were Buried With Chains. There Bondage,Their Tears,Their Pain..All The Years,And The Seasons.Do They Know,Their Graves,By Their Own People Have…

RAINY MIDNIGHT,AS THE STORMY BREEZE HAS THE BRANCHES CREAKING.APPEARING IN MY ROOM, GHOSTLY HUMAN SHAPED SHADOW TO ME BEGIN SPEAKING.GHOST SPOKE, HE WAS A WATCHER FROM A SPIRITUAL REALM...SPIRITS OF LONG AGO BLACK PEOPLE, WATCHING US, THEY ARE OVERWHELMED..BLACK PEOPLE HAVE BECOME DIVIDED,MISGUIDED WANDERING SHEEP IN A STORMY RAIN..TOLD TO ME FROM A GHOSTLY BROTHER WHO NEVER SAID HIS NAME...FACING EVIL WITH ETHNIC CLEANSING PLANS, BLACK PEOPLE LONG AGO WITH FAITH WERE UNDAUNTED...WATCHING US, FEAR OF A BLACK RACE EXTINCTION HAS THEM HAUNTED..MANY FORMS OF SELF DESTRUCTION, COMMUNITY DESTRUCTION BLACK PEOPLE EACH DAY MAINTAIN..TOLD TO ME BY A GHOSTLY BROTHER WHO NEVE…