بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

بِسْــــــــــــــــــمِ اﷲِالرَّحْمَنِ اارَّحِيم

A SUMMER STROLL
WHERE WATER AND LAND MEET……
YOUR ARM –
LONG AND STRONG
DRAPES LOVINGLY, PROTECTIVELY,
YET CASUALLY ACROSS MY SHOULDERS
YOUR CHISELED PROFILE
MAKES ME SWEAT
VAN DYKE, LIKE A CIPHER
ENCIRCLES MY NECK
HINT OF BROWN IN YOUR EYE
NO TRACE OF A SMILE
DEEP IN THOUGHT
YOU READ MINE.
AMAZED AT YOUR DIVINITY
I GAZE AGAPE IN WONDER
WAITING FOR THE FRONTAL
MAGNETICALLY,
KINETICALLY,
WE PULL TOGETHER
BOTH ANXIOUSLY ANTICIPATING THE INEVITABLE
YOUR SCENT INCITES ME TO ACTION
PHEROMONES HEIGHTEN OUR PASSION
I INHALE DEEPLY
AND PERFECTION FILLS MY LUNGS
TACITLY, THE AGILE LIPS
OF THE ILLEST EMCEE
COVER THE FRAGILE LIPS
OF HIS NUMBER ONE FAN
THE RUMBLINGS OF A NEW RHYME BEGIN TO FORM,
FASHIONABLY TAKING SHAPE WITHIN
THE POET & THE MUSE
FUSED TOGETHER
AS ONE
NEVER TO BE ASUNDER
بِسْــــــــــــــــــمِ اﷲِالرَّحْمَنِ اارَّحِيم
WORD IS BOND
I Feel Your Presence
Every Now And Again
I Turn Around Expecting To See You
And I Feel You Gazing
From Your Picture
Smiling Back At Me
And It’s Almost
Just As Good
بِسْــــــــــــــــــمِ اﷲِالرَّحْمَنِ اارَّحِيم
CHESTNUT EYES
EYES THE COLOR OF CHESTNUTS
BRILLIANTLY BROWN
GLOWING
NOT WITHHOLDING
THE FIRE BURNING WITHIN
DEEP DOWN
UNDERNEATH THE SURFACE
IT’S LOVE
(FOR ME)
YOU CAN’T HIDE IT
IT’S THERE FOR EVERYONE TO SEE
IF THEY KNOWIN’…. 😉
ESPECIALLY ME
YOU CAN’T DENY YOUR LOVE FOR ME
* * * * *
SWEET AS CHOCOLATE DEMEANER
A DEMEANER AS SWEET AS CHOCOLATE
MILKY AND AS SWEET AS CHOCOLATE
AN HONOUR FROM FIRST GLANCE
JUST TO SEE YOU IN YOUR B-BOY STANCE
بِسْــــــــــــــــــمِ اﷲِالرَّحْمَنِ اارَّحِيم
Outside the Girls’ Gymnasium
I Think it was
Right After Lunch
Right Before Drill Team
(Maybe Not)
Hurriedly Excited
You Were
I Didn’t Know It Then
You Must’ve Been
What A Fool I Was
Not To See
How Madly In Love
You Were With Me
*****
Took My Whole Adult Life
To Realize
How Much That Kiss Meant
Wasted Nearly Thirty (30) Years
Trying To Find
A Substitute
For You –
Someone In Your Class (Stead)
Allah (God) Told Me
“IT’S IMPOSSIBLE!!!”
No One In The Universe
Can Take Your Place
I Submit (Give Up)
To You
I’ll Spend The Rest Of My Life
Waiting
For
Another
One
❤
بِسْــــــــــــــــــمِ اﷲِالرَّحْمَنِ اارَّحِيم
I have the sinking feeling
I’m stuck-up
But I’m poor
I’m arrogant
But broke
Humble Pie is not at all sweet
I have high hopes
Watching other people smile
And smoke
Though MY pipe dreams
Are Very Much Undeferred
Undeterred
I shovel through the obstacles
Headed Steadfastly Toward The Light
Nose Lowered To Receive Assistance
From Friends In Low Places
Trying To Place The Faces
Forget The Names
They’re All The Same
Sorry.
Cut Me Another Slice Of Humble Pie
Trying Not To Think
I’m Better
Our Beloved Messenger (PBUH)
Taught Us To Be
“Humble Yet Commanding”
I Go From A Pedestal
To The Mud
In 2 Seconds Flat
Bi-Polarity
Is Only Fun Half of the Time
The Other Half Is Spent
Trying To Remember What The 1st 1/2 Felt Like
And Trying To Return





بِسْــــــــــــــــــمِ اﷲِالرَّحْمَنِ اارَّحِيم
ARTSY
HOMELESS
PLAYER or PIMP
HARD TO TELL
MUSICIANS – Dime a Dozen
WINOS – the same….
STYLISHLY FASHIONABLE “Smoker Ladiez”
VIRGIL – “THE VILLAGE CRIER”
SHABAZZ CATERERS WHO AREN’T MUSLIM
FAKE MUSLIMS
MOORS
NGEs
ONE FIVE PERCENTER (PRT_ME) 😉
MASONS
HOMIES
CASUAL OBSERVERS
BEAN SOUP SCIENTISTS
HYPOCRITES
AGENTS
SODOMITES
PERMANENTLY UNDERGROUND EMCEES
HIP-HOP HEADZ
PREDATORS
PREY
TRY TO STAY AFLOAT
FAMILIAR FACES (Boring)
NEW FACES (White)
U.N.W.E.L.C.O.M.E.!
MONEY-HUNGRY MERCHANTS CANNIBALIZING CULTURE
DEVIL-LOVERS COMMERCIALIZING OFF MY (OUR) HERITAGE
SEARCHING DESPERATELY
FOR A
SILVER LINING
NO HOLE IN MY PENNY YET
JUST WAITING TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT
BUT MOESHA IS LONG-GONE
THINKING ABOUT MOVING
NOWHERE TO BE FOUND
M.I.A.
JUST A FADED MEMORY
Just a memory….
بِسْــــــــــــــــــمِ اﷲِالرَّحْمَنِ اارَّحِيم
I See It
And
Know
That
I
Am
The
Cause
😦
Your Eyes Don’t Have That Shine Anymore, Baby
What Happened To The Sparkle In Your Smile? 😦
You Don’t Even Look Happy When You’re Smiling….
You’ve Lost Your Glow, Sweet Honey-Stick –
And I’m The ONLY ONE Who Can Return It –
It Makes Me Sad To See You Look So Sad When You’re Smiling
You Need Me
To Make You Smile (Happy)
In Your Eyes….
I Saw It The Last Time I Saw You. 😀
It Fills My Heart With Joy –
My Knees Get Weak –
My Insides Turn To Melted Butter –
The Belly Butterflies Start To Flutter –
& When Our Gazes Mingle
We Both Get That Tingle….
That Only The Other Can Inspire
You Set My Heart Afire
I’m Back-Flipping On A High-Wire
Our Hearts Race Like Cheetahs
And Love Runs Just As Wild & Free
I Carouse Through The City
Hoping I’ll See THE Smile
That I Haven’t Seen In Quite Awhile
Not Since The Last Time I Saw You 😉
Stevie Wonder Can See
The Sadness In Your Smile
Your Eyes Belie Your Grin
Your Sadness From My Sin
I Know You Too, Sugar-Pie
I’m Sorry
&
Whether You Want To Admit It
Or Not
You Need Me
بِسْــــــــــــــــــمِ اﷲِالرَّحْمَنِ اارَّحِيم
Dunbar was born in Dayton, Ohio to parents who had escaped from slavery; his father was a veteran of the American Civil War, having served in the 55th Massachusetts Infantry Regiment and the 5th Massachusetts Colored Cavalry Regiment. His parents instilled in him a love of learning and history. He was a student at an all-white high school, Dayton Central High School, and he participated actively as a student. During high school, he was both the editor of the school newspaper and class president, as well as the president of the school literary society. Dunbar had also started the first African-American newsletter in Dayton.He wrote his first poem at age 6 and gave his first public recital at age 9. Dunbar’s first published work came in a newspaper put out by his high school friends Wilbur and Orville Wright, who owned a printing plant. The Wright Brothers later invested in the Dayton Tattler, a newspaper aimed at the black community, edited and published by Dunbar.
His first collection of poetry, Oak and Ivy, was published in 1892 and attracted the attention of James Whitcomb Riley, the popular “Hoosier Poet”. Both Riley and Dunbar wrote poems in both standard English and dialect. His second book, Majors and Minors (1895) brought him national fame and the patronage of William Dean Howells, the novelist and critic and editor of Harper’s Weekly. After Howells’ praise, his first two books were combined as Lyrics of Lowly Life and Dunbar started on a career of international literary fame. He moved to Washington, D.C., in the LeDroit Park neighborhood. While in Washington, he attended Howard University.
His wife Alice Dunbar Nelson was a famous poet as well. A graduate of Dillard University in New Orleans, her most famous works include a short story entitled “Violets”. She and her husband also wrote books of poetry as companion pieces. An account of their love, life and marriage was depicted in a play by Kathleen McGhee-Anderson titled Oak and Ivy.
He kept a lifelong friendship with the Wrights, and was also associated with Frederick Douglass and Booker T. Washington. Brand Whitlock was also described as a close friend. He was honored with a ceremonial sword by President Theodore Roosevelt.
He wrote a dozen books of poetry, four books of short stories, five novels, and a play. He also wrote lyrics for In Dahomey – the first musical written and performed entirely by African-Americans to appear on Broadway in 1903; the musical comedy played successfully toured England and America over a period of four years – one of the more successful theatrical productions of its time. His essays and poems were published widely in the leading journals of the day. His work appeared in Harper’s Weekly, the Saturday Evening Post, the Denver Post, Current Literature and a number of other publications. During his life, considerable emphasis was laid on the fact that Dunbar was of pure black descent, with no white ancestors ever.
Dunbar’s work is known for its colorful language and use of dialect, and a conversational tone, with a brilliant rhetorical structure.
Dunbar traveled to England in 1897 to recite his works on the London literary circuit. He met the brilliant young black composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor who some of his poems to music and who was influenced by Dunbar to use African and American Negro songs and tunes in future compositions.
After his return, Dunbar took a job at the Library of Congress in Washington. In 1900, Dunbar was diagnosed with tuberculosis, and moved to Colorado with his wife on the advice of his doctors. Dunbar died at age thirty-three on February 9, 1906 from tuberculosis, and was interred in the Woodland Cemetery, Dayton, Ohio.
بِسْــــــــــــــــــمِ اﷲِالرَّحْمَنِ اارَّحِيم
“HARLEM”
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Asiatic Black Family!!!
I just found out recently that this poem was written by THE Langston Hughes!!!
Never did my High School English Lit teacher (an old white devil) inform his classes of the importance of the personality who was Langston Hughes nor of the magnitude of the context in which this powerful poem was written – The Harlem Renaissance.
I didn’t even realize that this poem, which I have never been able to forget and which also was the inspiration for Lorraine Hansbury’s stage-play “A Raisin in the Sun,” was even written by a Blackman – and Langston Hughes at that! I didn’t even know the poem was called “Harlem.”
But I digress, years later, in college, when I learned about the Harlem Renaissance, my professor lectured on the question that still plagues Black artists today, but which probably originated during the Renaissance, which was at that time referred to as THE “NEW NEGRO” MOVEMENT:
Should Black artists create ART FOR ART’S SAKE or for POLITICAL AWARENESS in the attempt to educate the masses and MAKE A STATEMENT through the medium of art/music/literature?
Of course, you can probably guess my stance on this topic, but I think Langston put it best in his article “The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain” (1926)
“One of the most promising of the young Negro poets said to me once, ‘I want to be a poet–not a Negro poet,’ meaning, I believe, ‘I want to write like a white poet”; meaning subconsciously, ‘I would like to be a white poet’; meaning behind that, ‘I would like to be white.'”
The question, rather, the approach a Black artist takes towards his medium depends on his approach toward life in general, I believe.
If he feels politically driven, it will manifest itself through his art. If not, it won’t.
Your views?
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