Healing poetry
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THE NIGHT PROWLER by Sally Bill
ILLUSTRATION: Getty Images
Woman giving praise to her parents and asking
understanding of her style of Life.
I.
Dear Mother, do understand,
That in essence, life
Gave me a beautiful landing
In the both of your hands,
You mustered and you wondered
Your every breath bestowed
The loving confusion of
A beautiful suppressed soul
Your flight with few limitations
Were great for the oppressed
II.
Though you toiled unrestrained,
You still wonder if it’s right
That now I out of
The wings of Security
Should choose to prowl through
The vales of the night
After the lecture that cited the
Fact, as they really are
With a girlish ambition
That debutant queen I’d be
But I out of the molds of security
Chose quite differently my destiny.
Do understand, though
Night prowling it might be,
As well as enhance me.
It is but a redemption
Of one’s salvation
To begin a plight that’s Bright
It will be landing LEFT and RIGHT
Their wings might need clipping
And I will offer the insight
III.
There must be mere understanding
For life, you might look as low
There must always be a willingness
To weigh the un-restraining
Burning of One’s soul,
Then there cometh a new
Thrust and understanding for
That which was looked as low
For love and hope and liberation
Will always be a flow.
IV.
There will not be scars of Damnation
Cometh a knocking at your door
For life and a thrust for living
Come a marching day and night
The seeds that were embedded
Prowlers harvest and enlighten in their plight
Do understand the unlimited
Thrust for Freedom in that Barren Land
For I am a prowling traveler
Whose chose to Rip and Row this Land!
COPYRIGHT © 2022 All Rights Reserved
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fata FEATURED POETS
My Beauty - by Shari Bailey
My beauty like flesh deep
like pass the white meat
blood through my veins deep
Like psychologically ingrained
in my brain deep
Like my skin receives messages that permeate through my soul sending off signals to respond
My beauty paramedic
saving lives of liberty
Oh say can you see
you have to understand beauty to see me pretty
Pretty close up through microscopic lenses
My beauty senses deceit
suspended in elite
tiptoed on hot coals
felt no heat
my beauty could never meet defeat
My beauty conquers
my beauty imperial
my beauty kills
my beauty serial
Numeric calculated and measured tested and preserved
earned and deserved
educated and learned
my beauty textbook
But still they can’t see me
See, to see me pretty
you have to understand
My beauty like flesh deep
like pass the white meat
blood through my veins
deep psychologically ingrained and my skin permeates messages from my soul. I am in control
My beauty is mine
COPYRIGHT © 2020 All Rights Reserved
PHOTO CREDIT: adobe stock
Black Skin
How do you cope with the complexion of dark skin?
When you're the only one,
it seems a long road of sadness, anger, resentment and distrust.
The skin we own is our armor, our shield, our destiny,
but that's only if you're open minded enough to know
that your strength comes from the reality of knowing
who we are to God and ourselves.
COPYRIGHT © 2021 All Rights Reserved
by Amaryllis Maritza Greene
This 11 year old author, is also an activist, model and aspiring actress.
PHOTO CREDIT: Shutterstock.COM
Dark Embrace
Feeling his warm embrace,
Admiring the dark glow of his looks,
Licking the blackness off his body was all it took,
Couldn't even see the syrup I poured on him,
Couldn't even see the chocolate on his skin.
Sweet droplets rolling down his naked body, tasting every drop,
Going
down
down
down
down
down.....
Not wanting to stop.
While running my fingers through his fuzz, I realized who he was.
A darker brother. The man I always needed in my life.
I realized this while feeling his dark embrace.
COPYRIGHT © 2021 All Rights Reserved
by Dee Journey
This piece is a celebration of the black man presence and the spiritual enjoyment connected to his warmness.
Are you a poet and want to see your work here?
If you Prefer the Old Fashioned Way, Drop us a line!
We Love to Feature Poets!
PHOTO CREDIT: GETTYIMAGES.COM
Reflections of Africa
take me, take me home
across the wailing great blue
to the land of soul
Seasons
your kind of love leaves
empty branches in the spring
cherry blossoms fall
Here
tears dry when love comes
they fall silent when love leaves
eyes cry just the same
Wind
she is fast and strong
her branches tremble and bend
when she pours her dance
Morning
welcome like a breeze
billowing my cotton skirt
in salutation
Strolling
time passes slowly
blues from the streets sing my cries
poems for water
COPYRIGHT © 2013 All Rights Reserved
by Tantra-Zawadi
Inspired by love, the Haikus displayed here are an excerpts from "Bubbles: One Conscious Breath," a book of poetry by Tantra-zawadi, illustrated by Edwin Boone from Poets Wear Prada (2013)
Photo: Samad Malik Photograph/level.medium.com
DON'T FEAR ME
Don’t fear my skin pigment because of what you see in the media.
I matter because all Black Lives Matter.
You are oblivious to the physical disconnect between races.
Fear is controlling you when you believe that one race is inferior to another.
My existence isn’t in your governmental control.
You infringe on my natural being because of your Fear.
Don’t Fear me because of your indoctrination from your ancestors.
I belong here just like anyone else, but your silence is consent to what is happening.
My ancestors fought to have rights and they are still being taken for granted today.
I am a human being, I bleed and have emotions too.
If you kill brothers, fathers, sons, sisters, daughters and mothers my family will mourn my death.
I should not have to fear my existence being taken away.
STOP allowing your fear to kill my brothers, fathers, sons, sisters, daughters and mothers.
Don’t demonize My existence.
You fear the Revolution because you know our unity is our strength.
Don’t fear the hieroglyphics on the wall about Greatness.
You have waged a Race war on the African Diaspora.
You can’t understand why as people of
African Diaspora we continue to rise in spite of your overt destruction.
You can’t refine my power by criminalizing my brothers, fathers, sons, sisters, daughters and
mothers.
Don’t fear me because you know that God is African.
Don’t fear me just because of what you, seen, heard or been reference about the African
Diaspora.
Stop Blaming us for the ingrained Willie Lynch Theory forced on us from slavery.
Don’t fear us for the features you go to the plastic surgeons for.
COPYRIGHT © 2016 All Rights Reserved
by Zena Aset Zechariah
Don't Fear Me and Chosen Tribe are poignant, thought provoking pieces by author, poet and Metaphysical Spiritualist,
Zena Aset Zechariah.
CHOSEN TRIBE by Zena Aset Zechariah
PHOTO CREDIT: SHUTTERSTOCK.COM
The universe brought us together as a family.
The bond we share is deeper than any scars.
The support we give and receive
dance between our souls.
Your chosen family will not use their fears and concerns
as a reason not to be in your corner of the ring.
The encouragement from your chosen family
differs greatly from what you grew up with.
The hand picked family will understand your struggles
because they have survived their own rounds of battles.
Chosen Family = Chosen Tribe
Your new tribe will help you weave fibers into a new world.
The universe picked this tribe
knowing that there's more than enough love to share with those connected.
You receive love from people who
didn't physically birth you into this life
met you on the street
knew you through the grapevine
was introduced to you during the lowest of lows
Friends become brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers.
The chosen tribe helps to heal wounds that come from biological families.
When another part of your life ends, your Chosen Tribe helps begin your life anew.
COPYRIGHT © 2016 All Rights Reserved
photo credit: Gettyimages.com
Rebirth Immortale: A Poetic Tale (Excerpt)
Each day life is lived
With the simplest of ease;
Everyone in their place,
Doing as they please.
Yet how often do you see
Consequences taken
In a manner in which
The soul repents
And is no longer forsaken?
Such a travesty occurs
In the ‘City of Waves’,
Deep, beyond mountains
And waterfall caves.
Those who dare enter
Must be beyond brave.
COPYRIGHT © 2021 All Rights Reserved
by Poetic Melody
The excerpt from
Rebirth Immortale: A Poetic Tale is currently still in progress by featured author, Poetic Melody.
PHOTO CREDIT: friday 2018-nytimes.com
BLACK FRIDAY
you come every year
appear as an ad or
sale flyer, you want me to buy,
or try to stand in line
feel bought or sold, cower to an
institution or company sad,
rush after the push and pull,
deplete of energy
but I stand there, like chattel
indigent, bent on consumption
drink your prohibition. I know I
do not need you, yet
I do follow through
to the counter, pay forward
storyboard my clutter, further
with the bric-a-brac
my lack is mind control
told, I sold myself
to the establishment
to wealth management
then, I take it back
and say, I do not need
that.
COPYRIGHT © 2016 All Rights Reserved
by Robert Anthony Gibbons
Inspired by the American tradition, Black Friday is celebrated on the day after Thanksgiving where shop owners give steep discounts on their products. It is the perfect occasion to shop and has now become a tradition globally.
photo credit: ONE World Trade Center-ONEROADATATIME.COM
IT WAS LOVE WE NEEDED - 9/11 Tribute 2004
when the twins were slammed
and those planes were swallowed
whole in a gulp; we needed it
when bone and mortar spewed
spectacles of men and women
who flew
until their carnage thumped
down
remains draped in that shade of horrible
grey
Listen, before the prayers in the east
were ever trampled
by our Wild, Wild West
or it was custom
for humans to die
round this world
squarely in our vision like beasts;
long before those middle-eastern boys
strapped themselves to blow
up like bombs!
we needed love
COPYRIGHT © 2004 All Rights Reserved
by Deneise Jennings-Houston
Deneise Jennings-Houston, penned two tributes to the September 11, 2001 American tragedy which was a series of four coordinated terrorist attacks against the United States of America. Over 2900 people lost their lives.
MORE LOVE NEEDED STILL - 9/11 20th Anniversary Tribute 2021 by Deneise Jennings-Houston
PHOTO CREDIT: WBNG.COM
It’s been twenty years since
that day when
more than all hell broke
loose
on the American side
of things.
Remember those planes crashing
and humans flying like birds
off from buildings dying
to their death? Oh!
but sadly that’s nothing new
to three quarters of our brethren
around the globe where
war is life, and life is one
tragedy after another…
Here it is twenty years since
that day when
more than all hell broke
loose on our American side
of things, but that shade of horrible
grey has now faded into blue
because it is still custom for humans to die
round this world squarely in our vision like beasts...
People I am telling you until the prayers of the East are heard
and heeded by our West it will not be long
before some other middle-eastern boy
straps himself to blow
up like a bomb! Listen
we still need more
love
COPYRIGHT © 2021 All Rights Reserved
photo: shattered glass photography-atelier-olschinsky1
Read Between the Lines (Excerpt)
ITS ALWAYS CAP
Never the realization
A sis broke her code, to show you how to hack
A sis wrote in bold, to show you the facts
*NOBODY ASKED*
AS IF FREE WILL WAS PLACED HERE FOR YOU TO BE SHACKLED BY ONE TRUTH
8 billion people
And you only feel like it’s for you?
8 billion people
And I have asked nothing of you
Yet when you have an Arch
You send out for the whole crew
COPYRIGHT © 2021 All Rights Reserved
by SELFPOETT aka RK
Read Between The Lines is a poem about how it feels to be an artist. Self takes a step back to look at how art and expression may sometimes divide relationships or communication. Read Between the Lines conveys that we are all different, we are diverse and we should be allowed to express oneself in our own unique way...
Support Pen to Passion
Your help enables us to meet our goals and maintain our high-quality standards. Thank you for your generous donation, which funds our mission to showcase new literary art.
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