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Showing posts from April, 2019

PAD Challenge Day 30: "Discontinue Love" and "Press Play"

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PAD Challenge Day 30: 2 for Tuesday: 1)Write a stop poem. 2)Write a don’t stop poem.
Discontinue Love
I’ll never stop loving for free. This is not up for a debate or a sweet rivalry; tic for tat; trade or sale. Love is no BOGO. Two for two Not even a 10 for $10 Or a dollar and ninety-nine including gratuity. FREE, all satisfaction guaranteed. No tax penalty or return policy, even when it looks like love disappeared or jeopardized me. I’ll just cease to exist without hate gaining interest inside of me.


Press Play
Tomorrow, I’ll press play again. Fela Kuti or Idris Muhammad will serenade me, grip my hips, and color me happy. I’ll get dressed in my emotions, mee

PAD Challenge Day 29: Dance with My Father Again

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PAD Challenge Day 29: Take the phrase “(blank) Again,” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then write your poem.
Dance with My Father Again
Dad, since you left, the beat of my heart has lost a little rhythm too. My hand is empty without yours. I miss your omelets in the morning. I miss your gap teeth smile like mine. I miss your calligraphy hand-writing. I miss your no non-sense and anti-bullshit attitude. I miss the direction you would give when I felt lost and lonely. I miss hearing the prayers and blessings you spoke over my life, before and after I was born. I miss being able to call every time the Lakers and Tarheels won. I miss us riding around the city sharing Tospy’s popcorn while listening to Motown hits, E-40, 2 Pac, and Snoop. You loved west coast hip-hop the most, but Run DMC was your favorite. Mom told me how you thought you were Run from Run DMC. Funny, I ended up loving Run’s House. We even decided that, when I got married, our Father…

PAD Challenge Day 28: Unapologetically Black ft. Cinquain and Haiku

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PAD Challenge Day 28: Write a remix poem
Unapologetically Black ft. Cinquain
Melanin You ask why proud I say, free as it comes Permanently fair in my genes No shame
Unapologetically Black ft. Haiku
Black, proud, sobeit! Black history tells it all. Why keep asking why?
D'ElegantOne


PAD Challenge Day 27: Six Feet Under

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PAD Challenge Day 27: Pick a direction, make that the title of your poem, and then write your poem.
Six Feet Under
I forgot to ask. I should have asked,
Miss Debbie or one of Mr. Jones' sons.
I should have asked what their policy was.
But my heart and mind was still on your last breath.
Something tells me they would have allowed it because they deeply loved you too. They couldn't stop memorizing your mannerisms and sportsmanship with handling business and life.
I should have asked.
I should have asked if I could have taken the hearse through the Jazz district, by Gates, the Crown Plaza, the KC Royals and Chiefs Stadium one more time.

I should have asked if I could touch your face again, kiss your cheek, hold your hand, fix your pocket square once more or make sure your tie and hat was in place or your collar was popped up then folded neatly and creased because you were a GQ man at heart.

I should have asked if your body felt safe, comfortable and warm ins…

PAD Challenge Day 26: Soiree

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PAD Challenge Day 26: Write an evening poem.
Soiree
Friday, Saturday, or Sunday night are our Friendsgiving Days. Birthday or no birthday, these celebrations are like all our names are on the cake and we’re cooler, tighter and sweeter than gelato.

We share our favorite bottles or brew; pinch in on carry out tabs or prepare a dish to consume. If we don’t catch an opening at a cinema or theater, rip a dance floor, highway or runway, we still gather, watch black and white films, Carolina Panthers or Tarheels, or Netflix; play spades, board games or pool.

No matter which home we chose, we always find our hearts and soul there too We sing out loud with spoons as microphones, dance freely, crack witty jokes, vent, cry, get high off laughter, and drunk off each other’s kind spirits.

This is like our family time, where we heal and provide therapy to each other. We air out our family drama, ask questions for answers, reveal our struggles and issues with self and society until we’re back in our group chat sharin…

PAD Challenge Day 25: Dear Black Descendants

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PAD Challenge Day 25: Write an exile poem.
Dear Black Descendants
Motherland never had no issue with me. I was doing just fine. I was real noble. I was not out of my mind. I didn’t flee nor was I a refugee. I was kidnapped and chained on Isabella, then priced higher than ivory and gold in the New World. The Europeans claim this was my new home. I even had a new name. A slave name. Excuse me, I was trying to save a little culture for you, but they exiled that too. They even beat a new religion in me while praising God too. Now, I could be an English man because I can speak and read English like the man. But, I still had no rights. Come sun up and sun down, I worked for free. Them cotton, sugar cane, rice, and tobacco fields were nightmares. I only felt free in my sleep. That’s where I could dream of Africa and my kin. But I’m lost, because I don’t know where to begin. I want to apologize for not running faster so that our daughters’ seeds didn’t have to be a descendant to a dirty old bastard. And my dee…

PAD Challenge Day 24: Completely PhinisheD

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PAD Challenge Day 24: Take the phrase “Complete (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then write your poem.
Completely PhinisheD

First and foremost,
Thank you,
Dr. Sadie Tanner Mossell Alexander,
Dr. Ruth Ella Moore, and
Dr. Lucille L. Adams-Campbell,
for completely PhinishDing so that I could appreciate the start.
The gown, hood, and tam are pretty.
They are very pretty.
They are majestic.
They are regal.
But, this pretty does not match up to the beautiful struggle of this academia challenge.
The dissertation pathway is nowhere soft like the black velvet gown I’ll wear shortly.
The pleats are perpendicular to the lines of my series of isolation, pressure, and frustration  between creased daily dedication.
The gold bullion tassel, kinda look like my blood, sweat, and tears all dried up, together and forever.
The three strips on my sleeves perhaps represent the Trinity that held my hand as I walk by faith.
Elegantly, I really want …

PAD Challenge Day 23: " A Free Black Man" and "Finely Confined"

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PAD Challenge Day 23: 2 for Tuesday: 1)Write a free poem. 2)Write a not free poem.
A Free Black Man
I love a free black man. I love a free black man like the wind. He ain’t got no fears. He ain’t got no worries. No unnecessary strings attached. No ignorance beating down his back.
I love a free black man with: a heart that beats for his roots, lips glued to hymns and optimism, and spoken words like Proverbs. He can two-step, lean wit-it, and snap black boy joy into the souls of blacks.
I love a free black man that has nothing holding him up and nothing holding him down. And every time I come around, he has on his crown.

Finely Confined
Can we take today off for us? Task ourselves to each other; Be whispering jailbirds and lovebirds; Be play-dates and play-mates; I’ll clear out your mind while you clear out mines. We’ll bathe our melanin; Take turns to dry and butter up each other’s back; Wrap ourselves in seductive kisses; Create a warm and hearty private breakfast in bed;

PAD Challenge Day 22: To Whom It May Concern

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PAD Challenge Day 22: Write a correspondence poem.
To Whom It May Concern
To you dearly, from me sincerely, thismaybe a blind copy and a carbon copy. One will see it all. Others won’t see what one does.
Either way, one of us got receipts for this open letter of validity. Hopefully. One day. We will all get the message. We will feel the vibe. We will see the change. It will be easy for some. It will be harder for others. And if we you don’t have it; you’ll get it sooner or later.
Just know, we all must know and pay attention to ATTN and the subject line. There will come a time when we will get it from someone else first or be shut out by the rest, completely like nothing really happened.
Now, we know, things do fall apart. People do grow apart. Words do have meanings. It’s not always their definitions