Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Dream for sale$ Part1(mr.spider)

You have a big city attitude and Southern curves
All you ever wanted is for a man to admire and respect your 
mind not oggle your behind.
 you met him.
He enters with a charming grin.
He has deep conversation.
 Oh yes. He's different from all the other men.
He shows a general concern about your intrest, hopes and dreams.
 You're in total awe of him.
He swept you off your feet.
The loven was good
The emotions ran deep.
He sold you a dream and you bought it.
Yeah he was that good.
He fooled your parents, siblings, and friends.
He was so slick you could no longer tell fantasy from reality.
He had you believing he was the Prince of morality.
 Christian values.
The reverend even put a stamp on him and reserved a pugh for the both of you.
He sold you a dream and you bought it.
He got you picking out wedding rings and trying out his last name.
Little do know that day will never come.
You thought you met a Prince but in reality he's a spider.
A master at ensnaring females in his web of lies.
You got the early morning text her from her and of course he had the perfect cover.
She was just a bitter ex and there is no other.
He sold you a dream and you bought it.
Then finally the confrontation comes.
She's all in your face.
She has a woman to woman with you and explains to you her place.
All this time you thought you where his one and only.
You had no clue. How low on the totem pole you were.
You weren't even number two.
You got ran over by the love truck and didn't even notice the blinker
He sold you a dream and you bought it.
Hook.
Line.
And
Sinker












The poetry corner.

Poetry for all occasions.
 Poetry with a passion
HLH.
3/24/15

















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. 

The poetry corner: Poetry with a passion. poetry for all occasions.tm copyrightHLH 5/11/14