Sunday, December 7, 2014

My hands are up.



What’s a black life worth?

Do we qualify as human beings?

Are we lower than dirt?


Mr. officer what’s going through your head when you look in my eyes?

What it is it about me that  you despise?
My music isn’t loud.
My pants are above my waste.
I have a job.

When did it become your personal mission to make me fit the description?
I’m minding my own.
Mr. officer  why are you harassing me?
Please leave me alone.
Are you having a bad day?
Did you have trouble at home?
Is you’re your supervisor giving you hell?
Let me pass.
Let me be.
Why Mr. officer are you harassing me?
Why are you trying to harm me?
If you shoot me what will the story be?
He’s being aggressive.
He had a gun.
You saw the gun right?
Yeah right.
I just know my fresh spilled blood will make your night.
No need to draw your weapon.
I surrender.
I’m obeying your commands.
See I’m on the ground.
I surrender I give up.
Don’t shoot.
Look my hands are up. 
{BANG BANG BANG!!!!}

Rip James Garner,  Rip Mike Brown, Rip Tamir Rice, Rip Kimani Gray, Rip Nicholas Heyward Jr, Rip Ezel Ford,Rip Oscar Grant, Rip Tim Sandsburry, Rip John Crawford, Rip Ramorley Gram,Rip Trayvon Martin and all other unarmed black men killed by Law enforcement  in the US.
It is there sworn duty to serve and protect not to destroy and reject.

The poetry corner: Poetry with a passion. Poetry for all occasions
HLH © 12/07/14

Monday, July 7, 2014

Assalent




You enter the room without a sound to claim your victim.

No signs of forced entry.

No signs of a struggle.

No entry or exit wounds.

Nothing except a wanted path of destruction from within.

You claim women.

You claim men.

You fester and linger.

You deteriorate  and decimate.

You're a time snatcher.

A dream dasher.

A faith tester.

A hope burglar.

You're a liar.

A thief.

A murderer.

You claim many.

Your victories aren't always flawless.

You have been beaten before.

One day you'll be totally powerless.

One day their will be a remedy.

One day their will be an answer.

One day all will survive your plague.

One day you will be destroyed...

cancer!




Do research.

Get tested.

Never give up.

Morally support loved ones or friends that have cancer.


The poetry corner: Poetry for all occasions. Poetry with a passion.tm HLH CR 7/714


















Saturday, July 5, 2014

Matriarch



Mya Angelou was living poetry personified and amplified.

She was indeed a phenomenal woman.

Her expressive art form inspired  a whole nation to rise.

She challenged her people to spread their wings and soar.

She taught a whole generation of lionesses to roar.

She liberated caged birds.

She influenced millions to write and have words spoken.

Her poetry illuminated minds and pried souls open.

The jewels she shared were timeless and rare.

Her presence was fleeting.

She motivated everyone to hope and to dare.

Dr. Mya Angelou was ahead of her time.



She created countless milestones.

She transcended art.

She was  more than a woman.

She was truly a Matriarch

RIP Mya Angelou.

The poetry corner: poetry for all occasions. poetry with a passion tm   ©HLH 7/5/14






















Saturday, May 31, 2014

Depart


The rain comes without warning.

You can prepare for torrential rain all you want, but it's still going to storm.

You  may not get completely soaked but you're bound to get wet.

The storm clouds are forming.

Darkness is looming.

Lightning strikes.

It pours down from every direction without any warning.

Each droplet feels like  a tiny dagger inflicting pain.

There is no refuge from this storm.

Then I gather my thoughts and find calm in the midst of the storm's eye.


I muted the thunder.

I dimmed the lightning.

I rebuked the clouds and commanded the rain to flee.

I refuse to let it over power me.

No!

Never again.

No more chaos.

No more pain.

No longer do I tremble at the mere crackle of thunder.

Now I just dance in the rain.

The poetry corner: Poetry for all occasions. Poetry with a passion.tm cr hlh 5/31/14



Aunt dink

 


Radiant glow.

Fun loving.

Life of the party.

Depend on her to lighten the mood.

She wasn't your average granny.

She liked to groove.

Always a song in her heart.

Always a smile on her face.

She didn't sugar coat anything.

You found that one to put you in your place.

She was the glue that held everything together.

No day would be complete without her cussing and fussing.

Real love all the time.

She was unique..

Yes one of a kind.

Determined to do her own thing regardless of what anyone had to say.

Never seeking approval.

In her eyes all opinions were irrelevant.

She could care less of what you think.

Had to love that in her.

That was everyone's aunt Dink.

RIP. Donna "Dink" Allen.

the poetry corner: poetry for all occasions. poetry with a passion.tm cr. HLH 5/31/14








Sunday, May 11, 2014

Only a mother.

 
 


Only a mother can see without looking.

Only a mother can make you crave her style of cooking.

Only a mother can nurture a spirit to no end.

Only a mother will stand by your side to the bitter end.

Only a mother will defend you, even if your wrong.

Only a mother can give you the strength to go on.

Only a mother will fuss over you.

Only a mother will help you ease the pain of a heart ache.

Only a mother will stay by your side until the fever breaks.

Only a mother can sew that button back on.

Only a mother knows exactly what to say to brighten your day.

A mother's love is unique.

One of a kind.

All similar but not the same.

It can not be compared to no others.

Who can always put a smile on you face?

Only a mother. 

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Monday, March 3, 2014

Sinners prayer(spoken word)


I started off in church praying daily./

I prayed sincerely./

I prayed with no hesitation./

I prayed out of gratitude./

Then something  happened./

I lost my way./


As I got older I only started praying out of desperation./

I started falling to my knees when it was time to put together that pack./

Praying to god that it was high grade and I would make my profit back./

twerk. twerk./ please god. jump back baby. please come back./

Hallelujah! it cam back./

Yes. A full fledged sinner./ feeling less than blessed./

feeling less than loved./

Feeling less than a winner./

Now consumed by the beast./ fully energized by marijuana smoke contact./ very smooth cognac./

Walking under crossed swords./ Fully inducted into the invisible war./

The only thing that seemed to calm the madding of my mind was the melodic styling's of Tupac Shakur./

I was on the brink of self destruction./ then the lord called me back./

I still got a long way to go./

I have renewed strength./ Blessing him up./

Now lifting up heavenly hands./

I don't think ya'll understand./

I said I'm back./ Lifting up heavenly hands.

So in case you didn't already know or never knew./

God does not like sin./ but he loves sinners and he answers their prayers too.

The poetry corner: All occasions poetry.



 Poetry with a passion.tm copyright 3/3/14 HLH

I don't own the rights to sound clips and visual pasted images.







Friday, February 28, 2014

my people


I love my people.

I'm proud of my heritage.

I like all of our unique features.

I appreciate every flesh tone all the way from the darkest of the dark to lightest of the light.

No offense to any other culture but being black is out of sight.

We have that inner strength, resilience and brilliance.

We have preserved through so much.

 We have pioneered, engineered, orchestrated, illustrated, designed, and woven the fabric of this great nation.

Our sacrifices, struggles, and plight illuminate the souls of anyone who is bold enough to learn of us.

Black love.

Black pride.

We march.

We ride.

We're worth more than 28 calendar days.

We broke the mold of the freshly fired clay.

We are now and forever will be what it means over come all.

Divided or united we still stand tall.
 We improvise and dominate through it all.

I don't mean to ruffle any feathers.
I don't mean boast.

Don't mean to gloat.

I'm just stating fact.
I love being black.

Last day of black history Month. Had to make it special.

The poetry corner: Poetry for all occasions. Poetry with a passion.tm copy right 2/28/14 HLH



















Monday, February 24, 2014

Momma Rose

Moma Rose.

Momma rose  was always there.

Momma Rose even let her enemies know that she cared

Momma Rose.

You never knew what was coming out of that bag.

  She always had the perfect gift for just the right person.

Momma Rose, was the pinochle of feminism even while cursing.

Momma Rose always brought out the best in those that could not see it in there self.

Momma Rose was quick to let you know what she thought even if you did not ask.

Momma Rose so too strong.

Momma Rose would tell you off and put you in your place

Momma Rose always nurtured and protected those she felt was her own.

 Momma Rose couldn't be tamed.

Momma Rose was the board that would not break.

Momma Rose was the flower that would not wilt.

Momma Rose was forever  boisterous.

Momma Rose was always got the last word not matter what.

Momma Rose loved every last one of us.

Rip Momma Rose "tiger red" Allen.




The poetry corner: all occasions poetry. Poetry with a passion




copyright 2/23/13 HLH



Tuesday, January 21, 2014

All Hail the King



Martin Luther king had a dream.
He dared to dream a magnificiant dream.

He dreamed that  all multi colored brotheres and sisters would be able to sit down at the table of equality.

He pushed forward through society’s hatred and ferousity.

He dared to take a stand and brake the mold along with his silence.

He radiated love and personified  non violence.

To this very day  his speech resinates  and  embodies peace and nobility.

He was the shining example of what it means to take on a cause.

He did it on principle  and purpose alone...not for applause.

His struggle was not in vein.

He helped deliver a whole generation out of darkness and gave them a glimpse of what could be.

Even though we still have a long way to go. His sacrafice gave our nation plenty of room to grow.

His voice was  was the civl rightsi era’s rights truest freedom ring.

We are forver  grateful.


All hail. Dr. Martin Luther King.

All the opportunities and freedom we now have in America may have not been possible if wasn't for him and all people like him in that era.


Hallzies poetry corner: All occasions poetry. Poetry with a passion tm copyright 1/21/14 HH





 

All hail. Dr. Martin Luther King.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Young man












Young man hold your head.


Don’t let it the world get you down.

Young Man



Don’t  pay attention to stormy skies


Young Man


Young Man never give up before you try.

Young Man



Hold your head up and stick your chest out.

Show your pride.

Young Man

Be your own man / don’t follow the crowd.

Young Man


This is your world go get it

Young Man

When you have a dream don’t quit until you get it.

Young Man


Put in that work. Get back up after you fall

Your not less of man for not hiding your pain.

Young Man

You don’t have to suffer in silence.

Use you mind before you resort to violence.

Young Man

 You are a king

Young Man

Don’t be embarrassed to wife your queen

Young Man

This world belongs to you

Young Man

Show pride and always press through.

 

 

Hallzies poetry corner: All occasions poetry. Poetry with a passion tm  copyright1/21/14 HLH

 






 
 
 
 
 
 



 
 
 
 








    













Baby girl


Baby girl hold your head.

Don’t let the world get you down.

Baby girl

Don’t  pay attention to the hungry eyes

Baby girl

Baby girl don’t fall for a pack of lies.

Define your own beauty. Know your true worth.

Spread love. Jump over hurt.

Baby girl.

Everyone of your sister’s aren’t  true friends.

Be carful of how wide you open your heart and home

Baby girl

You are a queen and deserve a king

Baby girl

Protect your essence./ save your presence

Baby girl

You are a delicate flower.

Baby girl.

Life begins with you.

This is your world. You wield the power.
 
Hallzies poetry corner: All occasions poetry. Poetry with a passiontm copyright 12/29/19 HLH