Monday, December 12, 2011

Sweet

I think some of the best poetry is most likely written in prison. You are in a place where you have deep emotion, either anger, sadness, fear, maybe to some even joy. A musician, Buddy Tabor would go into prisons and perform his music for the inmates. With the inmates approval, he collected and published some of the poetry they had been writing. Out of the works I have had the chance to read, this is by far my favorite and I wanted to share it with y'all. I love the spirit behind it, that even though it is a dreadful experience to be in the pit of a prison cell this person is not letting it ruin his life or his spirit. He is surviving, not letting the conditions crumble him, but yet using them to create.


The steel has not made me cold
Nor the stone made me hard
Nor the gray made me colorless.

The dopefiends have not made me scandalous
Nor the cops made me hateful
Nor the hateful made me heartless.

The food has not killed my appetite
Nor sexlessness killed my desire
Nor lifelessness killed my thirst

They gave me no water for my garden,
Gave me sand for seeds,
And I grew flowers

And low fruit,
Enough to color the walls
And make stale rice
Taste sweet.

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Rite a Riff

I was in the slum, didn't really know what decisions to make in the time period of my life. I was frustrated, confused, and whenever I get in this state of mind, I write. I express these feelings through words, let the rhythm flow, open my eyes to my thoughts. I don't really know what my mind is truly thinking until I write it down, and then I understand. It clicks. I like this fast write because it has good imagery and wording, and it just flows. Hope you enjoy:

Photo Credit
The world spins around me 
unanswered questions 
thoughts left lingering 
my body aches as if there is no tomorrow 
life is a mystery to me
what will come next? 
and what should I do? 
choices, choices lay unattended 
as if they are laying across a table just waiting to be picked 
all the consequences, but all the rewards 
film across my vision 
as I contemplate what to do, 
I relax, I let all the stress fall away
every list, every chore, every practice, one by one 
I sit in the moment, my mind wanders to a happy place....
the birds chirp around me, the sun rests on my face and I daze...
I envision the life I want, what I want to be in 10, 20, 30 years
what will I regret? what will I remember? 
what do I wish to accomplish? 
these thoughts, visions float, wander 
to dream is the first step of success, 
but to get there is entirely different
first though, 
we must all, 
come into that realization 
of our dream, 
our future, 
OUR life, 
not others. 

Read a Riff

This is a poem I created with my own mind. It is a thinking poem, quite mind boggling to some. We all interpret poems differently, but I assure you that this is one that has many people wondering what is really meant by the language of the words. I love it because it makes your mind work hard to think outside the box. Read it, enjoy it, contemplate it, and leave me a comment as to what your mind is saying to YOU.


The Hidden Secrets

In the years of merciful authority,
When our thoughts are blinded by silent anguish
It’s the humble insanity that gets us through
Knowing that one-day our destiny will overcome us
The marbled floors that we call home
Will eventually become dissolved as if they were never there
Our memories soaked in a cloak of remembrance
As the authority once again prevails
In a bleak, relentless world of time





Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Remember the Life that Was

This is a poem I created to remember the joy and love for an inspirational teacher. She drove, and continues to drive my passion for creative writing. She helps me to remember what writing means, how to grab it from your soul, how to speak for yourself. Let your opinions flow and don't let anyone else stop you from what you want. Reach out and conquer your goals.





walking down the jumbled hallway
the first wing is where she waits
waiting for us, along the hall, beside the door 
the room in which she calls home
number 218 is where there stood, a heart of a warrior
a brave soldier daring to be different
the swirls and twirls of poetry whisper past my ear
a bag full of props
and music banging on the sidelines
a women who taught us to open up
open our ears, our hearts, our minds
to the world, to the lessons of the future
to not lay worried in the fears of tomorrow,
but to rise to today
to see everything as a chance to grow
a heart to heal
a person to inspire
she would remind us to not sit in our pity and cry
but learn to understand, to wake, to use that passion
that motive to drive forward
a woman who loved every soul she touched
the lessons floating in my brain of a person,
someone who will be a loss to all
her words, poems, lyrics embedded in my mind
the spirit of an artistic
the heart of a warrior
the soul of Ali McKenna
an inspirational flame always left burning
never to be blown out in the hearts of the people
you will never be forgotten