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NEW YEARS His mom still sits in the doorway longing for the child she lost long before he left this place no one seemed to like him the girls turned away the boys thought him strange I slapped him once for some reason not a very good one He dressed In drag one Halloween the gays called him freak and wouldn't let him In there world Then one New years eve he gave his life saving some children from a burning building On New years day he was a hero after that when I would see her I could almost feel her loneliness some of us will never change hearts but maybe he did Jim Roche (c) coralash@juno.com ================================================ BEYOND THE PLAINS OF PAIN I belong to a people so wounded, so hurt I belong to a world that wounds, that hurts but my arms are long my back is strong to hold the pain to take the hurts in a lion's pride till daylight comes just look into my eyes they look beyond the nose-tip away from your world away from your taunts in vain your taunts anymore drill blood from my veins no more are those masked fingers going to prone the avenues of my foothold going to harvest my blessings again never will they soil my hallelujahs anymore it is the end, the end of your shift. Padmore Agbemabiese (c) agbemabiese.1@osu.edu ================================================ THE SAME do you know what they say how hard we fought to stay together that we wouldn't and shouldn't still be together you are the love my soul prayed for the love that I stayed for now that I have you and you are back I just feel the need to tell you that our train is off the track While you were gone I did some growing on my own the old stuff no longer works and your silence no longer hurts See Boo, now I am healed and your absences are no longer felt pack you shi*t and get out play the hand you have been dealt I have grown and you have not you have nothing I have a lot my self respect and my esteem are no longer a distant dream I have been to the mountain top I've seen the light and didn't enter Jah gave me back my center I have so much work to do and the way you are I can't take you One day Hon you will grow and I love like this I hope you too will know I've see the sun and I've basked in the light embracing God no longer scares me of makes me afraid in his perfect image is where i've laid When you face the monster of death the words I can't, I won't no longer have breath I can, I will I do Is all I can say to you and as Jah as my witness I can't stay in love with you Karen Roberts (c) KAYC918@aol.com =========================================================== NO MORE Until you face your tormentor There is and can be no us And never will be And so the story goes on Same -ol stuff we all face At some point in our lives most Run away Only to have their lives Become a broken record Over and over and over Again Others find the courage to break Free When they say to themselves Enough is enough Or They just happen to run into A stranger or a close Friend To help them come to the Realization That we are all meant To be happy There is a lot of good in the world Some are fortunate to find Most Never realize but it is always close Waiting for you to take that first Step There is no peace within until You honor yourself And say no more Lee Tracey (c) blkmagic00@yahoo.com ================================================ DISPLACED the first time my man left my breath-- four-walled tornado-- wrestled to kill the silence in the room i noticed an opacity in my tears a loss that cared not for explanations to feel silly when you are hurt is almost criminal and to dress your wounds in the dark feels kindda small like childhood pain you know, how pure it can be... the first time he left my breath poised over the sight of his haphazard emotional suitcase packed full and locked by the door but never leaving the room this incident mocked my drama as it slit my soul and let me know my man would leave again another day when he would swallow his words in resentful pride in childish quarrel in irresponsible challenges that were never raised by me so i sat there and hoped we would meet again today i have decided that we women are not made of god's clay or whats-his-name's ribs but of hick-ups or maybe tears that gloss our eyes but never fall or then again maybe we are made of tides because i feel like i pull and drown and stiffle breath and hesitate a lot and i feel like i loom on the verges of feeling a lot it becomes a burden of cosmic proportions to look in the mirror in the morning as anything could turn up and he is never consistent in his appraisal and i am never flawless in my approach because so much is at stake i have this terry mcmillan induced terror of turning my womanhood into a clown's act so i often refuse to engage with the rhythm of the day while my trenches are dug deep around me because independent of his understanding i am at war against this world's co-optation of my warrior princess ...a brother may not understand sometimes but a lot of times he just don't want to... love is not medication either but nobody told me that nor did they warn me love could be drugs to the loveless crackhead in wait just as mere crumbs of sunlight would be gold to the blind so the essentials of the soul are a rare blessing to me and if i knew of another place i might go there but i realize my ghosts prefer the familiar so the emotional cross-country drive gets postponed i have played myself enough times and now to rescue myself the words will rain like fierce thunder i hate when he says my tongue cuts but if i bled for you then you must bleed for me and for the truth imbedded and lost in our screaming matches his stakes are high... somebody told this man that he holds all of life's high stakes so me i am left to straddle fences between being his woman, his sister his mother and his lover i must hold this same tongue i kiss him with ask for the essentials like it's luxury a terrified clown's act as i feel like a huge bag of hick-ups i begin to understand in these moments what the grandmothers talk about the subtle ropes that bind us the negotiations we deny engaging in and the question remains for what do we sell are voices ? only to the point that i can sober up with a glass of water and curse a brother out am i still redeemed (and my hick-up state is not terminal) but i notice a change of tempo for those few minutes of unadulterated grief during which my cynical mother was right after all this empty minutes collect themselves in little holes where i once laid melodies and they take the form of the world's number one woman-killer: common sense... love i tell you is not medication Janine de Novais (c) jd161@columbia.edu ================================================ When One Door Shuts We can hide inside ourselves only for so long before our true being comes shining through. We can harbor fears, disappointments, unrest, and indecision from the world - Until we turn blue. But what good does that do? Sometimes I pretend everything is okay when I know it's really not. That's what good "little girls" are supposed to do- Or at least, that's what I'm taught. But today, I took the time to search my heart. I took off the mask that smiles to the world; I let go of my fear - I was all alone; We can hide inside ourselves only for so long- we can dream; we can hope; we can cry; we can pray; Only then can we move on. Tyese Dantzler (c) DANTZLER@hotmail.com
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