LINKED
As certain as a honeybee is
linked
To a flower's nectar, I am linked to you, my flower.
Without you
There can be no honey,
And without you,
I die.
(c)
Pino
9/3/01
 

Empty Again  
The moon is full, its beams forcing me to stay awake. My thoughts are chaotic, my heart shattered. The silence of the night echoes the silence in my room. An hour earlier, I was engulfed in hot bubbled bath water. It was a futile attempt to soak my heartache away. The candles were lit, my wine glass was full. I glanced across the tub where he should be - empty again. The lights are off now but the moon insists on casting its distorted shadows through my room. I squeeze my eyes shut and snuggle further under my quilt. My legs are aching for his to wrap around me, To squirm against him, to feel his rough hands against my still hot skin. My body is throbbing with desire as I reach out to touch him - empty again. I sigh, knowing it will be another long night. My life is this, this moment, just like the moon and all its phases of light. I open my eyes and look toward the window. The moon is so bright and full - my heart empty. . . again. 
Viann
9/17/01
___________

SHADOWS OF EMPTY PROMISES She sold herself. She sold the house. / She sold her future. It is time to say goodbye to the tin-roof cabin in the woods./ Goodbye to the flowers in bloom and in-waiting. She makes one final walk through the house./ The shadows seem intimidating. They come from all corners. "Back," she says, " I still have more to do." The shadows disappear taking promises with them./ The sun streams through the skylight./ Its warmth is reassuring to a tired, weary body./ The kids run through all the rooms, one last time./ The deep voice of puberty is never heard here./ The knock on the door of a first date, is never heard. / The beckoning of an absent father is also never heard./ The dreams are dead./ The promises are empty. / The future has changed. But there, one state away is a man who wants to father;/ a man who wants to protect; a man who wants to love./ He is the man with the future, the promise, and the tomorrow. / He waits for the woman only he doesn't know it./ He lives for the woman, still he doesn't know it. / He wants it all, and finally he begins to feel it. She walks through his house./ The sun finds her through the window./ It is the same warmth, but a different day./ A different way./ It is the right way.

Viann
5/6/02

Window into Soul's abuse
Mirror, mirror on the wall Who debases one and all? /When treason is the name we call /Who tortures one/ To punish all This glass will break/ Where blame should fall/You mock me mirror on the wall/ How dare you question one and all?/ As life is short and deeds are foul/ Oh, mirror, mirror on the wall/ I spite the soul who sees it all/ Like the innocent's eye I cannot lie/ And wish the day when you would fall/ Like mirror cracking on the wall/ To your soul's witness/ Your reflection is afoul/ As your deeds reflect in every action/ Your child lost to sick compulsion/ Sees mirror, mirror on the wall/ And now that child breaks it, one and all./ Like Your abuse, it fractures all.

Intentions Change
Before I wanted nothing/ And now I want everything/ Before I only wanted your hand in friendship/ And now I want to hold it/ As in a caress on my face /Before I only merged my mind with yours/ Like friends on an old familiar street/ Passing time with memories that speak to us /From some balcony above/ But now, I seek your eyes with mine /To look into the windows and out of them /Like a sole intention for light to rush in/ Perhaps, on a park bench we would meet /Discussing yesterday's news /As it blows away in the wind /To remind us of how our lives have been/ Separated And yet, /The familiar with us becomes a new ground/ That we could grow in /But like in a forest cut /The life support is weak/ And the want endangered /So as new life replaces old extinctions I must admit,/ I intended to be right/ But I know now that I was wrong /And that my dreams /Of you have /Never left me /Especially tonight.

Life Support
Put down the bottle/ And come to me /Put down the poison /You must be freed /Your life is going to fall I see it all /The light in your eyes Is fading/ To black despair now waiting /For your sick destiny to rob you /Of the beauty that changed my face to love /The disease in your eyes /Bring death's shadow to your door /And you speak no more /Of passion fire brilliance /Of The day we met When I fell into your heart/ Into your breast /That now lies shaking on the floor /What happened to you?/ My dear sweet one/ Yesterday you were a rose with thorns /Today you are a beast unborn /To die in shameless arms/ In the smoke and mirrors /Of your suicide waiting /Your tired wasted mind /Now aching in your lunges/ Your breathless sobs /They Are nothing compared to my broken hope /As I watch you climb the walls of your prison/ Of your addiction /Of all the tragedies you speak /I now command in desperation /Let go your grasp on death /And fall into my arms/ Instead of falling into your grave.
three poems by
Anna Libet

Until The Curtains Close
Catz going to Louis and Ribbs Like it's a new place to eat Face the heat In deez shameless streets It's more of a trend to be weeds But I intend to be that rose through concrete Then spreading my seeds Unto society Why lie to me I'm just like you You just like me Those things that life is inflicting, like hypnotic and Hennessey You ain't kin to me plus you offended me You stepped on my shoes-time to show You how long the extended be Physically, Shot at your hand Relieving you mentally Spiritually we need to grow But who know Its like a show Play it through Until… The curtains close.
______
* Professor Louis and Ribbs are mortuaries in San Francisco. He is referring to attitudes of some youths in these streets.
Noah Wright,
Lyricist

Until The Curtains Close
Catz going to Louis and Ribbs Like it's a new place to eat Face the heat In deez shameless streets It's more of a trend to be weeds But I intend to be that rose through concrete Then spreading my seeds Unto society Why lie to me I'm just like you You just like me Those things that life is inflicting, like hypnotic and Hennessey You ain't kin to me plus you offended me You stepped on my shoes-time to show You how long the extended be Physically, Shot at your hand Relieving you mentally Spiritually we need to grow But who know Its like a show Play it through Until… The curtains close.
______
* Professor Louis and Ribbs are mortuaries in San Francisco. He is referring to attitudes of some youths in these streets.
Noah Wright,
Lyricist

IN THE WARMTH OF THE WOMB
Frank Williams
I felt comfort, yeah, once upon a time. I was warm with no need to cry. Everything I needed, I had inside. Felt my heartbeat, In the warmth of the womb. Knew of no heartaches, In the warmth of the womb.// And the light surrounded me, The angels spent time protecting me, And as He mold me I was in serenity. Felt my heartbeat, In the warmth of the womb, Knew of no heartaches In the warmth of the womb// I was conceived No, it's no mystery. Formed in a special place Now I know I was in a safe place Away from hate, Away from sin, Away from you judging me cause of my skin. But from her love I hold my head up high And I keep my head to the sky. Within you I had enough space inside, Everything I needed was inside.// I felt comfort, yeah, once upon a time And there are times I just don't have the strength to cry, Mama I wish sometimes that I could just be a baby In the warmth of the womb.
_______
If There's Any Love to be Made?
Is there any love to be made? If there is any love to be made Let us make it now! Let's explore it to the HEIGHT// to the depth// to the B R E A D T H// of Its original intention// If there's any love to be made Let us make it! Now is the only time that we have! I Want to be in a house Where curry cooks Incense burns Mangos sweeten the air And Peace reigns supreme Basking in solitude Reveling in my inner experience Where I walk barefoot With ringed toes Perfumed skin Dancing joy [] Pre-Nup Many like this Have not been written I'm sure// Promising Exclusivity Reciprocity Finality// Cosmic reconnection// Till life we shall live
Three poems
by
Connie Berhe

 The Turning of Time 
Lucia

Look into my eyes--don't say a word/ Silence speaks, as two eyes dig deep inside,/Silence speaks and two eyes cry.

Questions form
As tears fall,/ But before speech/ Noise breaks the silence,/And brings a rain of sorrow./ Then the sunlight breaks through the room,
Filling it with the warmth of comfort.

And the noise fades,/ As it's interrupted by a gasp, full of memories--
Happiness and sorrows, strengths and achievements/ And the turning of time.

Now images form and/ Memories wander about/ This once room of light,
As it turns dim, fading into darkness/And this sun is diminished by the night.
---------
6/25/01
________

"Portrait of Imposture You said it wasn't love"
To the hollow of my back Where your hands shook to hold// To my faraway stare Where your mind fixed to gaze// To the sheltered eyes The unopened smile To the curious beauty melded behind// To the stroke that eased me To paint my life on your skin As touch searches within// To the arch of my neck Where your mouth threw back Your desires drawing in// To my insides where you gasped Relinquished in the heartbeat Where no words utter On stranger's lips you pin // To this canvas spread This core exposed It appears that you have found your quest// But to every caress To every surrender// To every image burned Under your hands Over your skin You tell me once again// This picture of a thousand words Inspires only lust For love in naked silence Is the forgery I trust.//

The Betrayal
I walk into the room Through the doorway Beneath the romance Of the lights That were ours Once It is walking through all the doorways of denial I remember Till I found the lock That sealed my dread My despair My faith smothered under our pillow Where another man laid his head Is this someone else's house For I fear that it was never my own And I walk through the door again Over and over Whispering, "Come to bed" As I always have But there is no answer For there is no bed And no romance under This glare of infraction You inflicted But what a sacred fool I was To be burned by the darkness I created Where you were alone Neglected And now I am alone Vanquished And as the threshold escapes us Truth speaks through the glass For within these walls The betrayer is betrayed
Two poems by
Anna Libet
5/20/02

At the Grave of the Catwoman's Mother
for Eartha
"My mother did what she had to do."
I heard you say this, Eartha, on a PBS special on your way to visit your mother's grave.
You paused . . . then told how your mother pleaded with the dark-skinned man to keep you after they married.
But he didn't want a yellah gal living in his house, and your mother need a huhzband . . . so she bargained you away in a package deal that included your sister so you wouldn't be alone. You paused again . . . then talked about the time the stranger walked up to you on your aunt's porch, raised your chin, validated you with a nod of his head, then left. When you told your aunt, she said that he was probably your father . . . At the grave, I heard you say: "I understand, mother, why you gave me away."
"I understand. . ."
"I understand. . ."
Your tears showed me otherwise.

Bone by Bone
We are a people. A people do not throw their geniuses away. If they do, it is our duty, as witnesses for the future, to collect them again for the sake of our children. If necessary, bone by bone.
Alice Walker
How could we forget their voices? Bessie and Billie belting the blues, Zora chatting folklore. And yet we nearly forgot Zora, buried in an unmarked grave covered with weeds… until a Witness exhumed her memory and breathed life back into her stories, back into her words… so we can always remember.[]
Three poems by
Deborah A. Dessaso
[poems published elsewhere; author's permission for republishing.]

The Game
Legal Games, Mind Games, Table Games, Confinement Games, Control Games, Throughout the course of a day I see all the Games. Played out in the seriousness of the dying fighting for survival, A sense of purpose is winning, A sense of failure is losing, On may levels and to many degrees. In playing the games self is lost, Community is abandoned, All for the sake of winning at a game that's designed, Is for you to lose, In its irony, while losing the effects of the Game Strips away all dignity, pride, self respect, respect for others and morals, Yet, I can hear the players proclaim with a loud roar, I'm a player In The Game! Ignoring the fee that will be reaped upon the unknowing Because the Game isn't about win or lose, Its about survive or die. The longer you survive In the Game, the more you lose and To ultimately win In the Game is to DIE!
One poem by
Walter Brooks

Until Hell freezes over & the Devil buys Iceskates
D'ANGELO BOONE
You took away what was dear to me/You made me cry/You hurt my heart and it didn't heal in time/So now, I'm dealing with feelings./Every morning that I wake up I lust for vengeance/Animosity, rage, anger and pain./Are some of the emotions that are driving me insane?/I'm a kill you folks/I vowed this to the one you took away,//And I won't stop until,/Hell freezes over and the devil buys ice skates.//You lucky folks, cause today I've changed./No more negativity,/ No more rage./Positivity conceals me, /I understand now./That, before I was lost and now I'm found./And, I'm a continue to rise up!/Even though you pull me down./Can't control me anymore,/Can't push me around./I'm a stay on the right path,/Because I'm right today,/And I won't stop until/Hell Freezes over and the Devil Buys Ice Skates.

AMERICA, YOU CAN'T CLONE THAT!
By THE ANGRY MAN
America, America home of the free, America, America are we free. Your history, your past, may come back to haunt you at last. America, You can't clone that! Yes, I love the land of my birth, So much pain, People of Color hurts. No reparations coming, We fought to belong, Three-fifth of a being, Your time is gonna come America, You can't clone that! You apologized to the Natives and the Japanese Rewarded for their deaths and stolen lands; Wishing they forgive, but there are the memories: Incarcerations, Discriminations and from being placed in Institutions. Call it the ignorance of the past and so were the writers of the constitution. When hell takes place cause it will and that's a fact, You won't have no solutions America, You can't clone that! ///You once sold your youths to farms and ranches, Ten years-old kids hustling the streets and misused, Placing them on trains and changing their names, Deadbeat parents ain't that ashame. Created class and used race long ago and called outsiders trash, Philantropy to substitute the truth, ain't that jack, To make yourselves feel better for the abandonment, America, You can't clone that!/// Time to get tested and yes you have protected us, Power is in your veins and now it isn't about us. Sacrifice people for the advancement of … How did it come to this, Hitler been dead-Sir. No one can beat us but ourselves, Ignorance is taking over-Many believe the stories you tell, After its all said and done, The bodies beneath will rise like the sun, Didn't you get a clue to how the mountains begun? America, You can't clone that!///Uncle Sam got a brand new bag. We know who laid the railroad tracks, We know who cleaned your children backs, We know about the bombs you built, We know about the germs you used to kill, We know from whence you came, We know you hide behind the Lord in vain, We know just who you are, America, you've gone too far.///Your blood was never pure, Patriotism cannot cure, because Your angels are not white, They are Black, Who else forgave you-wrong or right? You rose because it was your time, Your dayz are coming to an end, You will find you have no friends, You allow the foolish to pretend.///Now, clone meats is cool to eat, Heck, you order sperm on-line to create a fetus. Designer children? Oh my God! On my knees I pray for you, America come to your senses will you, Before you have to answer to a mighty test, That will end all the rest, And those tanks that holds frozen lives, Will not survive, America, You can't clone that!/// You thought you could bully those in the Middle East. They've been suffering for multiple years, Better check out their history. No fear of suicides, They're dying at young years And some don't cry. Here we are in a place, This is a mistake. You're in a land where you aren't wanted, You can't buy them with gold and ornaments. You wanted that oil, so why are you frontin'?/// Looking back at your history, You marveled with pride, Now, we're running out of food, We're running out of reserves, You have your own people sleeping in the streets, Out on the curb. I know you're not disturbed, Conscience in you has no place, The devil will come to see you Face to face, America, You can't clone that!///
Now, you're too blind to see, We are all paying the price, And, you're too proud too see that, Our children are coming up lost, Our children are coming up dead. No one to lead-please believe that! The last sounds we hear may not be a triumph, But, the sighs of All mother's cries. Damn, ain't that sumptin'... America, You can't Clone that! You did it all for nothing.
Frank Thomas Williams

Got to Move
People say Where you going now? Why you moving again?// Cause I got to! I got to move!// I can never be satisfied Living on the same street for thirty years Never seeing the world// I got to move! Cause I got to see People Places Things Differently// I got to see the parts of the whole// I could live in Africa On an island in the Indian Ocean Where the people are dark like me And perform strange rituals And The lemur comical, exotic, run free// I could live without electricity On a blue-ridged mountain in the West Indies Without a stove On an open-fire Cook lemongrass tea Make sweet potato flapjacks// Pull up water from the well Wash my clothes by hand Bathe in a tub in my own backyard Late into the night Read by candlelight Listen to the wind Rustling through the tamarind Walk two miles to market Take my own bags Trudge up the hill Market-laden Past the lone tethered cow And The old man burning wood Making charcoal in the middle of the jungle// Watch the evening sky Full of white egret Heading homeward Feel the stillness as I sit on the tiled veranda in a bamboo rocker Watching the enticing blue ocean Miles in the distance// I got to move I got to see I got to feel The Freedom Of Movement homeward
Connie Berhe
(c) Copyright 2004

From Down Below
Lucia

From down below I see how to you Call really go, I Had never imagined me letting you go. But as the days went bye. curiosity invaded my mind Letting go is hard to do, for you will soon leave me behind.

The reminiscence of you J want to preserve For it was to good to last a lifetime. I want to see you drift away into the enormous blue skies, Letting the winds carry and guide you to the morning light.

When you begin to part will be difficult to bear As a hissing sound echoes in my ears as a last message of you saying, "Good-bye... As I sit here forsaken, I see how the winds drift you away, Away from me, Away from everything that remains in this solid ground.

As the seconds go bye. you go further and further High into the midnight skies, With nothing but the moonlight to guide you through the night. From down below I ask myself) "Will I ever see you again?" But as we all know, the answer is undefined.

Keep on flying high into open air, Keep on looking forward to the next tomorrow, Many adventures and surprises still awaits for you, Never give up, Just let hope live on. Don't look back If what you see will make you sad.
-Continued-
8/6/01

Surviving the Instinct
Twenty angry wolves Roam howling through the streets Preying on the weakness of mind and flesh Yours they have chosen To roam without fear For they sense your craving For tribal engraving Marking this victim endangered Smooth grins show sharp fangs Waiting to devour Your innocence of better judgment As it creeps away Frightened by solitude The wandering emptiness Where no one belongs Resolve collapses Ravaged to the bone Hollow cheeks white eyes shaking hands Obey nerves in raw torment Grasping the box of weak comfort The twenty beasts now beyond your control You bite your own feeding your own But the ashes in your lunges settle their disease In your eyes In Your heart hungry for air Night's black hole ties rings around your throat Rings of fire Howling screaming In this ritual sworn to kill The nomad within seeks A meditative trance To revolve your mind away from death's dance But the wolves breathe fire into you When the pack lights you up It is a break in your light The fragments The sound Are the echoes of your rebellion The vibrations of every faulted emotion Now muted in the fill of its hot desert death A sound of your clan Brings shame to your lips As you hear your mother calling "Come home, come home" Clutching to the tragedy You still cling to your youth As you run up the stairs Where safety embraces Breathing in breathing out It takes all your strength To break away from the fall From the moon From the wolves As you watch them dying alone.

The Betrayal
I walk into the room Through the doorway Beneath the romance Of the lights That were ours Once It is walking through all the doorways of denial I remember Till I found the lock That sealed my dread My despair My faith smothered under our pillow Where another man laid his head Is this someone else's house For I fear that it was never my own And I walk through the door again Over and over Whispering, "Come to bed" As I always have But there is no answer For there is no bed And no romance under This glare of infraction You inflicted But what a sacred fool I was To be burned by the darkness I created Where you were alone Neglected And now I am alone Vanquished And as the threshold escapes us Truth speaks through the glass For within these walls The betrayer is betrayed
Two poems by
Anna Libet
5/13/02

"Your Place in My Heart"
Someone came over last night Someone with no name and no face Someone with no past and no meaning Someone with no feeling, no affiliation, no bond// I talked for hours to the nameless, faceless, meaningless shape Before I took him to bed wondering who is the stranger here?// That is what I have to say today Hiding, hiding, hiding Behind my walls Underneath my bed Slithering away into the night Like some guilt-ridden dream Relieved to be awake We are in the morning And all is right again// But years from now, this is what I will have to say// My married ex-lover came over last night The man with every name and every face The man of my past and the man of my meaning The man with tortured feeling, deep affiliation, bonded forever.// It will be another decade before I talk to his shape But before I put him to bed I wonder who are these friends? That forgot to say, I love you.// If we could only tell the truth without telling it That's what we pretended, that's what we said.

Another Life In another life
you would be mine. In another world, we would be happy together. In another universe, we could do it all over again. We could be the images of ourselves We could be the ideal. In heaven, we could be saved. In hell, we could be educated. On the other side of the sun We could eclipse our desire On the dark side of the moon We could wage war If time could stop We would be frozen together If time could begin again We would melt into change Perhaps with a love like ours We need another earth - the one that we created.
Anna Libet
5/27/02

The Process of Change
Walking this Earth among the beasts This carnal flesh has a hold over me. My mind imagines As if to dream Cursed in this land Fulfilling seems extreme You taught me how to hate! How to fight myself. Demons in my mind Created by your wealth Racism was your claim to fame My people died passing on your name Yet, I didn't get your family dues Not even the forty acres and a mule. I got my mind twisted, Subliminal messages got me living in risks No conscious mind to imagine blitz This world is the shtz And I'm in a world-wind fighting with fistz. Protecting the streets that doesn't carry my name I'm caught up in the game Where my life is headed is measured by the insane Thoughts in my mind I'm free--doing time, 'Cause I don't have a clue of what to do I'm losing my mind. My mind is shackled, so is my feet, wrists and waist, What is this saga I'm living? I'm living in haste. I can't find my place in the sand I can't find my place in this land I'm full of rage in a cage A hopeless hu-man. Being bartered and sold No profession I know No encouragement from any to help me grow. I was nurtured by the streets Oh Heavenly Father what has happened to me? No father to call my own, Molested at birth, Discarded to group homes, This pain really hurts. I heard about the holidays you all celebrate I plot on your homes while you're away. The criminal ways that I've embraced I am a product of society's human waste. Now you write policies to put me in place While your daughters graduates from colleges off my fate. If you had just put the time in me, Showed me how love could be, If you had took the time to teach me, And pit a little faith in me I could had understood what it took to live in this world How to smile? How to cry? How to father a pearl? Now, I'm living on death row While you're watering your garden growing vegetables. I'm in this hole A true investment You are making thousands off my flesh Who would of guess that this was your plan for me? Is it a question that the prison is a billion dollar industry? A young black man with no hope With skeletons in his mind Living on this earth was a waste of time And through this journey was a process It finally came to me, The motivating factor of poverty Is the rich man's success. Living off the apart of society I am apart of the oppressed! Change is a process.
Frank T. Williams

The Reality of Change
Anger and hostility
are on the way out!
Empathy and collaboration
are things we now shout.
Look at the conflict that is
within your own range
How to help it resolve?
Just be the change.

Getting In To It
I hear that voice within me say,
"Prepare yourself for another day."
Each thing you do, builds on the last
Until you see a month has passed!
Month to month our goal comes clear
Till finally, we give a cheer!
For patience, love, and values shared
Creates what we have bravely dared.
Two poems
by
Carolyn Ashe Stokes

Island Life
by
Connie Berhe`
Plants from the rainforest Adorn my shuttered rooms Here, they cost me nada I gathered them myself The leaves are wide, ridged, waxy Splashed white, yellow, red As if by a careless painter Sultry island breezes Blow through sun-splashed curtained windows Ah! The island life

 You
The very thought of you makes me tremble inside; the very sight of you makes me passionate; you consume my dreams and you star in my fantasies, Yet when your touch leaves me, speech is no longer a natural ability. my free will is to place my arms around you, to be lost in your embrace, and slowly, softly, delicately taste your face. but my free will is weakened and I remain in my place.
Tess
9/17/01

________________

Autumn Red
The sound of geese draw her eyes toward the autumn sky.
It's a beautiful shade of blue.
The same blue that made her heart quicken when she looked into his eyes.
Are they still that color? It's been so very long.
She stands to walk toward her garden.
Her long lace dress gets snagged in the wicker chair. She is reminded of the beautiful summer day when they went blackberry picking.
The sun was so brilliant; it illuminated the red in his hair.
He smiled as he bent down to gently pull her dress out of the thorns.
She takes a visual inventory of the landscape.
Her garden is fading in color. It's lost against the splendor of the trees.
The leaves are bold splashes of yellow, orange, and red.
Her eyes are focused on that particular leaf. That color red. It's so familiar.
She pulls the leaf from the tree. Will it be missed? Will she be missed?
Has he thought of her since that last day?
The vivid colors blur as hot tears roll down her face.
The snap of a tree branch forces her to turn.
She quickly wipes the tears from her eyes. Yes, she can see the red again.
She lets the leaf drop to the ground as she reaches up to touch his beard.
He smiles at her as he bends down to pick up the leaf.
He pulls her body close to his and answers the question in her eyes.
Yes, she has been missed.
By
Viann
10/01/01

The Light of Darkness
The dark tunnel will not be remembered, nor will the light at the end. Loud forceful cries clean out her newly developed lungs. Her mother holds her tight and prays for a wonderful life for her daughter. Talking, walking, gossiping, and dancing. She is so much older now, about to begin a new chapter. It's the eve before her wedding with only a small lamp to illuminate her and her mother's face. Unspoken words fill the room. She knows her mother has concerns, but it will all work out, or so she thought. 10 years, 2 children, and a mistress later, she finds herself in a dark room with a candle to focus on. She prays for her life and for her children. She knows it will all work out, but for how long? She sits among her collection of cardinals: pictures, stained glass, and needlework. The real ones come almost daily. Her collection counts off all the years, her friends in flight count off the days. Four grandchildren, one great granddaughter, and one death later she is again trying to escape the unspoken words that hang in the air. She is surrounded by hugs, kisses, and "it will be all right." "When?" she replies. They shrug and walk away. Her daughter comes to visit. She has her grandmother's eyes. She brings her another cardinal for her collection. Is this really a year she will want to remember? She looks into her daughter's eyes, she is so beautiful. She find herself trying to reassure her daughter. "It will be alright. It's only a lump." They hug and kiss swallowing the unspoken. 3 surgeries and 50 pounds later her children are gathered in a dark room. The nurse's station and coffee machine splash light onto the somber group. How many times has the doctor said those words? Was there eye contact? A squeeze on the shoulder? What exactly is comfortable? Is it knowing what to say or not to say? What was said, what was not. It's good to be home finally she thinks. A cardinal perches on the windowsill and peeks in the window. "I'll be alright." she tells it. Her daughter squeezes her hand, trying to pass on her warmth. The warmth of her daughter's hand feels so good. As a matter of fact, she hasn't felt this good in a long time. The pain seems to be fading. She pulls her children closer to her with her words. Hugs, kisses, and tears, lots of tears. Her eyes are fading as her focus becomes clearer. She tries to make out the image but it is impossible, until He comes forward. She has never seen Him before yet she recognizes Him instantly. The tunnel was so long, but she made it to the light. "Yes," He says, "It will be alright." "I know," she replies. A great granddaughter makes tracks in the newly fallen snow. The blanket of white covers the cemetery. If it weren't for the tombstones you wouldn't be reminded of death. Life. She touches her flat stomach. An hour earlier the doctor had hugged her tightly as he told her the good news. She had given up so long ago; it seems an odd time to have such joy. There was so much darkness till now. Is she too old? Can she do this? A cardinal perches upon her great grandmother's headstone and chirps at her. It will be alright it seems to say.
by
Viann

IN THE WARMTH OF THE WOMB Frank Williams
I felt comfort, yeah, once upon a time. I was warm with no need to cry. Everything I needed, I had inside. Felt my heartbeat, In the warmth of the womb. Knew of no heartaches, In the warmth of the womb.// And the light surrounded me, The angels spent time protecting me, And as He mold me I was in serenity. Felt my heartbeat, In the warmth of the womb, Knew of no heartaches In the warmth of the womb// I was conceived No, it's no mystery. Formed in a special place Now I know I was in a safe place Away from hate, Away from sin, Away from you judging me cause of my skin. But from her love I hold my head up high And I keep my head to the sky. Within you I had enough space inside, Everything I needed was inside.// I felt comfort, yeah, once upon a time And there are times I just don't have the strength to cry, Mama I wish sometimes that I could just because In the warmth of the womb.

TO GOD, ALL PRAISES ARE DUE
By Frank Williams
There's this beast that lies within Waiting for the excuse to rise again. It was the street part of me Learned to protect and defend, Built from anger and revenge, See that's an old part of me, A used to be when those streets had me rude,// I've changed- And to God, All praises are due.// The situation arose and God tested my soul, Thug youngsters got over, And it could have been over, You know how the story goes. Their souls lost and the devil got them trapped, No longer in my life do I need to stay strapped, What I lost I can get again, Easy as it is to find out where one stays, God spoke to me through family and friends, I'm going to continue to have better days.// Pride brings about a foolish heart Lives could end unlike the way it start, Who am I to bite into the ignorance? The one who speaks about spiritual growth, The one who speaks and tries to instill hope, The one who have risen from where they're at, The one who have faced many challenges, obstacles, trials and tribulations, A new man within me thanks to God's manifestations. // Not one hand touched me, I pray the same for you, I'm blessed I must confessed, I'm apart of a legacy, And I wont let hate have its place in me, The Almighty has place strength inside of me, At times, it's hard for me to believe, But I've come too far to go into reverse, I'm no longer looking at tests as a curse, So, I pray that my Higher Power will get to them, To change their lives and have a chance to live again. To turn their foolishness into knowledge And, make them believers my dear Father.// I will continue to do what I do, Go into the belly of the beast and within the streets, To continue to educate and be me in the streets. Life's lessons are rough sometimes, The words that come out your mouth returns in time, I will continue to withstands these tests, Cause my strength comes from my ancestral roots. To God, All Praises are Due.//
_____
I WANNA WRITE
By Frank Williams
I wanna write about love Too many tears in my eyes. I wanna write about happiness Too many tears in my eyes. I wanna write about things you only think of, Too many tears in my eyes, I wanna write about something you would cherish, I wanna write,// But on the news the talk is about wars and strife, And, on the block there's another who lost his life, All around there's tragic to see, Stories you wouldn't believe, And so many claim a glory So much pain, Too many tears in my eyes And that's my story. I wanna write.
(c) Copyright 2003

 OBSESSION
America is obsessed with OJ
Possessed with OJ
Depressed with OJ.
But in the midst of that obsession,
Confession, Depression. and possession,
I cry:
Diallo!
Diallo!
Forty-one times I cry:
Diallo! Amadou Diallo!
The murder of Diallo
Forty-one shots I cry, Diallo!
Amadou Diallo!….
For the 40 righteous men, Black men,
For those 40 more on death-row, Black men,
Waiting to die
For somebody else's wrong
Waiting to die,
For nobody's wrong
For them I cry:
Diallo, Amadou Diallo!
Again another Black man is killed
By another white cop in the line of duty
A wallet becomes a gun
Bang, bang, bang…
A gun/a wallet/a gun
It's all the same in a Black man's hand
He had no identity that bullets will respect
That police will respect
That America will respect.
While they obsess that OJ may have gotten away
Another Black man is killed on the streets 
Of America everyday.  
So I am obsessed with  brother Amadou Diallo.

Bang, Bang, Bang!
And no one is to blame
Because a wallet or a gun
For this black man
Is all the same.

Amadou Diallo!
Who will mourn you? Your mother
will mourn you;
We will mourn and moan because of you!
Amadou 
what I have to do
To save my brothers,
Brother Amadou Diallo.
F.Arthur Jones
8/13/01
_____

"Where Will I Be, When You Are Gone?"
Where will I be When you are gone When you bestow Your smile on another one? When "you and I" Are only "you", and "I"? Will I ever Dance again beneath the sky? Where will I be When "us two" seem To live only In a shadow land of dreams? When faded ghosts Recall the hours When my sweet love Fell, drowning, in your powers? What can I touch If not your hand, Your lips, your hair, And breathe the scent of you? What time will it be When I'm at the Curb, and the bus With you on it never comes? How long will I Stand waiting, for A fleeting glimpse Of your marvelous, flashing eyes? Where will I be When I am old And you remember Me no more? Will I exist- If you forget? (I was never Made to be loved Like you, like I love you. And still, I do.) So where will I be When you are gone? When your light shines on another one? A shriveled hag Standing, waiting For a bus with You, that never comes...until I disappear and Fade to empty, Blow away on The softest breeze--Goodbye! For I was never Made to stand in The light of one Like you, so I am undone. What will I do? I do not know. But my love will Follow you on the wind Wherever you may go.
(For "Papa", from "Wildflower")

Angela
5/20/02

Indecision
I always knew it was a trap A predictable path An uncompromising middle An appointment to the bench of anonymity
To be led forever into tomorrow By the hands that are not your own
A figurative curse A future I held it In my hand The best laid plans Always smelling sweeter on the wind Not underneath the ground Cultivating like an impotent courage rotting
In a hermit’s false dilemma In a traveler’s bane I awake to a familiar dream: Freedom knocks Security answers “Go away, we cannot afford you here”
So security slithers away Hiding from freedom’s path Because it blocks the way of wandering
So I renew my vows with poverty For the great enlightenment And fly across the world in a book Never witnessing a single page But something turns The every-ones have moved away And I sit in mocking triumph Because I stayed
Eluding a confidence Betraying the evidence That I know not Which path forsakes my
True wish But I demand answers of a hollow frame While I walk in obstinate commitment Yet linger to discover
Which will lead me to a dream
Of true reflection and correct possibility
Without the shackles I seek it
To be unleashed Released. From the paralysis of indecision.
Of something I call my own My life.
by
Anna Libet

World Peace
As Americans we are free, just like a butterfly. A butterfly has many colors just like you and me so let's keep the diversity. Today and every day I wish for world peace. A butterfly touches down on beautiful flowers, let us touch each others hearts and make each day matter. Oh yes! soon there will be spring, so spring forward America, ahead of you will be good and beautiful things. Like a butterfly you have wings.
by
Brianah Lowe
[a third-grader of Oakland,CA]

REGAIN
Nights are lonely and days are frozen unable to sleep though most nights I want to try so hard not to cry reality i should be fine yet sleeping in the bed I made the ole me did fade... faded and can't get back what was lost abused misused a spirit awaken with an extreme cost only if you knew the price... sacrifice too much soul crunched crushed REGAIN F a s T as my captor laughs makes fun because mistaken the one I thought was mine never was mine turned out to be nothing but obvious lies would rather sign up for war and fight a cause then to take care of yours... no one to blame difficult to mention the name MANY encounter the same every moment is a moment that ticks away my own shame... what was now is o v v v e r not ever to be regained... unable and no longer want to play an intrigued conquerors "no one wins" game... Myself will REGAIN []
Y.M. Tinsley

Evil
In the old, inferior In the transition, against god In the present, a ploy// We know that inferiors are defined by Their Superiors And that God only defines the devil And for this reason The word is not for mortal man To use in a scheme,// Never once was it designed To inspire any respect In a stage to wage war In the name of the good Against the darkness Which we know is in our hearts// And that we, ourselves, have created the term As a ploy to protect The superior With God Against man. And now we know that evil looks the same Regardless of the face on which it stands.[]
Anna Libet

The Reaping
For every child a black slave bore, three
died from being kicked from her
womb by the massa's boots, or stripped
from her womb by the overseer's whip,
or strained from her womb under
the weight of a plow strapped to her back.//
Who would mourn these slaughtered ones? Who would avenge their loss?//
On a cold day in January 1973, a reaper began a grisly balancing act--//
And who could have guessed
that the one who would//
wear the killer's boots
or lash the killer's whip
or drive the killer's plow//
would, herself, be a woman?
*************
Shock and Awe
*************
Deborah A. Dessaso

Should I Write?
Should I write this from emotion to tell you how I feel? How I am tired of the dying of my people, On our streets and in foreign battlefields?// A policeman lost his life leaving SF saying why? As senseless the death of a 29 year-old office cut short of a long life, As senseless for a twenty year old soldier held hostage for his life, As senseless as the twenty one year old man that walked our streets, Living in this land taking life away from a daddy, husband and vice-servant. It's just as senseless to have so much hating spreading between so-called Hu-mans.// Should I write from emotions to tell you how I feel? Should I write about how sad I feel when I hear about a death? Should I write about how sad I feel when a youngster chooses for less? Should I write about how less important life seem to means from those living from ghetto to government heights?// It goes from a child being kidnapped, raped and murdered. It goes from a mother feeling grief and becoming a widow. It goes from a child growing up in a single parent spot. It goes from a community living in fear feeling no way out.//Should I write this from emotions to tell you how I feel? About how discrimination is still high in this world in which we live. About how people should not pray because they may defend someone else? About how a senior can walk the streets after dark, man what the hell!// Should I write about the social ills that are deteriorating our communities? Should I write about the diseases started by secret experiments, or Should I write about the lies we are being told and people keep accepting them.// There is something greater going on and if you blink you may miss. The mission your life has affects another and I hope you get it. People are out there sharing a whole lot of love. More love than you could ever think of. For this to be a nation of many beliefs, The real Word will stand and will be.// Should I write this from emotion to tell you how I feel? How I am tired of the dying of all people, On our streets and in foreign battlefields?
Frank Thomas Williams