Friday, December 19, 2014

POETRY: "Trippin’ Over a Major Revision" By Cheryl A. Baldwin


Family problems
         Pain and fear
Anger in my heart
Rage screaming in my ear.
I wanna get away from here,

So I'm trippin' out of my comfort zone
I'm on a quest to find my piece.
There's no lookin' back
It's time to release.

Time to be more honest
No breaking this promise
In search for solace
No more censoring this goddess
Because it is my soul that needs to be the strongest
Not my relationship with you, you in or my significant other

I had to be tougher
I had to let them suffer
I was being their buffer for way to long!

I tried to be a cushion for everyone else’s pain
But after I changed I began to have shame
For when I wasn’t there
They had no one to blame.



Inadequate is what I felt
Left my family and friends all by themselves
But I had to be stronger for them.
No leader is a leader when they are leading their followers to water, only to drown.

Onward I race
Impatience is what I face
Trembles when I realized that the memories I can’t erase

A recollection of those around me
Those moments I had people surrounding
But now it’s just me.
All alone in this peace of mind. 

Absent from the mind and pace, I look to my grace
I ground my knees to the floor and I start to embrace
Myself in all his Glory.
hooooohaaaaaaah! I feel better.

I’m trippin’ over a major revision
I’ve had to make some major decisions
My former self and I just had a major division,
But it’s ok
Because I envision greatness.
A better self
A better sister
A better daughter
A better friend
A better Spirit
A better Lover

A better Leader. 

Thursday, November 6, 2014

POETRY: "Trippin'" By Cheryl A. Baldwin

soft red with a hint of brown.
Cocoa butter scented,
like I’m doused in chocolate’s air.
Cocoa cosmos
In place inside of my life.
in a place,
…but I don’t know where.

A blossom of problems I try to forget.
Cold nights during summer days, I awake every morning
feeling what's left of this regret,
...but fret not
I am leaving.
                                                                                                                                                                                 
 I’m trippin’ out of town.
I’m on that Holy Bible high away
Far away on a deep brown quest
I left my past behind me.
drifted away to find redemption
ambitious girl.
In a place with no definition
                                                                                                                                                                                                Like rainbows I follow a pathway through the sky
   An unknown reality it, makes me feel
              Blissfully beautiful I,
Feel a presence.
A reverent essence.
                                                                                                                                                                                                          I reach trying to grasp.
            A caffinated excitement awaits
But a life of mistakes
Is but an empty lake
And I know my cup runneth over,
But my soul is beginning to break.

My thoughts begining to quake
and then I awake those silent undertones of spirituality.

    The Lord hath not given us a spirit of fear, but of love, a sound mind, and of power.
So wait my little dove. You will blossom into a flower.
Someday you’ll see the soft red with a hint of brown, that cocoa butter scent.
Someday you will remember the high and you won’t have to lament.
Someday you will remember to puff, puff pass the loneliness and regain the bliss.
So dismiss your worries and keep on trippin’.
Up under and over the trials, if you must,
But trust no matter how many miles, Salvation will be amiss.




Wednesday, October 8, 2014






I know for a fact I am right handed,
I know I will never become a professional soccer player overnight,
I know with absolute certainty no matter how hard I wish my sister will never disappear.


I know each time you think of us,
You think black,
I know you whisper,
As if your quiet words don't travel into a shout,
I know you place a banned stamp on poetry,
As if the freedom to write,
the freedom to speak,
the freedom to express,
Is determined by color of ones skin.

I know you sit and wonder, 
how does it work, 
how does it feel,
are they magical?

I assure we are not.
We write to simply express.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

POETRY: "Can We Just Be Friends" By Cheryl A. Baldwin

Can We Just Be Friends

       Fell in love again,
but this time he's a friend
     won't you lend a hand?

Smoothe lines
Dark skin
So I asked a friend
"Should I risk giving up my heart again?"

his breathe smelled like warm milk in the morning
That cradle of skin
Ooh... my friend,
This love we could not pretend.

I want you to learn my heart
get to know me before you come in
     are you ready? :)

No sex before marrage
yeah I'm "that type of Christian"
Don't attack me with your kisses
My sensuality comes from within.
                       Relax!
My pending body
he thought I was hiding from sin
But still he said
"OK best friend"

He said tongue kisses were the trend
day by day he would recommend
no harm did he entend but,
         Temptation created tension
He said "I want to feel the motions of your emotions."

        Imprisoned by our love I began
to put you before my faith
and you before my friend
I felt it in my heart,
But I didn't want it to end
        So I said,
"Do you feel the same way about me, about us?"
              Can we make ammends?

Restless lips and restless hips baby said,
           "It depends."
      I was hurt.
Mistook his mentality for his maturity
Went through so much to let him in
I still didn't want this relationship to end
            Can we just be friends?

So caught up in the maddness I had forgotten how silly you had been
That cradle of skin
So I take my broken heart
And I give it to you again.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

POETRY: "Weak Man’s Prayer" By Cheryl A, Baldwin

As I lie in my bed, I start to dream. Deep thoughts arouse in my mind. I start to sink into a world unknown…
I imagined his silhouette so strikingly beautiful. A heavy, strong fellow I would say. Tempting to the mind and tantalizing to the taste, I knew that this quest was too much to handle, but I couldn’t stop. I was too far gone. I didn’t know what I‘d gotten myself into but, I didn’t belong. “Lord help me,” I say, “This is beyond my powers…” I flip open a bible to the book of psalms, “Make haste, O God, to deliver me; make haste…”

  Weak Man’s Prayer
“Make Haste Oh God to deliver me
Make Haste Oh God I Plea
You see
My life is Shattering
And no joyful praise there can be
So make haste oh God, Make haste oh God, Make Haste Oh God,… for me.”
                                                                                                   -Cheryl A. Baldwin


Imagined his silhouette I,
 Imagined it heavy,
I imagined it strong
I, imagined it…
Stepped into a world too much for the senses
The mind
        The soul…
              Left feeling
Raped by his heated figure and
Moistened by the sweat on his tongue
        I get down on my knees,
and pray to the Heavens that I was wrong.
That my sheets weren’t just hydrated
That my mind wasn’t just gone,
                again
and again I pray to the Lord that I was wrong.
That my bubble guts didn’t just
                Pop!
and fade away
That my life didn’t just began a new song
        “Caught up in the rapture of love”   
                But I don’t belong...
     I’m in a world without my God.
and I’ve been here too long
        Loved everything he did to me, but my God, he knew, this journey I shouldn’t have come along.
So I pray and pray, that I was wrong.

I prayed and prayed that it was still a dream, and that I had just imagined everything that this world had to offer. I prayed all night long. I envisioned the disappointment of the Lord, and didn’t want to be a part of this anymore.                                                                 Well… to end my story… I guess, I knew I was wrong. I knew that, what I had done in my mind had somehow resurrected into reality, and I knew I was too late … It felt like something I couldn’t even pray for…But I did.
As I flip my eyes to the next verse, I pray in synchronized prayer, “But I am poor and needy: make haste unto me, O God, thou art my help and deliverer; O Lord, make no tarrying.



Thursday, July 17, 2014

POETRY: "Sammy" By Cheryl A. Baldwin

You've written them down, but your
thoughts haven't left your heart yet.
So shy, so shy
Dont cry
Just let go Sammy.

I see you frown through your smile
I have to be tough, rough
You've been there for a while.
Spaced out in your own zone
Left in this definitive state. you've
sewn.
For yourself
Through life's quilt of problems.
Left to figure out what's best.
No time to rest cuz its their lives in
your hands.
Walking through Your mind alone,
grab my hand and hold
tight
You wont be on your own
We are here.

So shy, so shy
Dont cry.
Just let go Sammy.

And my luck wont last, cuz it's
Remembering the past.

Possibilities of what hasn't been
said
I am angry, I am scared.

Weaving through your life,
You, are the thread.
Beauty on the inside and out.
Power is what's ahead.
Strength is what's in your future, in
your body, in your head.

So shy, so shy
Dont cry.
Just let go Sammy.
But I'm not the one to preach
Be the guidance that you seek.

Your mind can't illustrate your words, your heart cant weep
So you must speak.



Poetry as my way to freedom

Friday, June 13, 2014

POETRY: "Just Step Out On Faith" By Cheryl A. Baldwin

2 Timothy 1:7 For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.


Just Step Out On Faith

I'm afraid to step out on faith
so tired of ridicule and hate 
so into this state of mind that 
I would risk my chance at eternal life.
but dont judge me.
because im,
Im getting there.

So afraid of what's on the other side,
So I cover my face and hide.
Afraid to let loose the confidence inside of me.
afraid of what will be there
Head slouched in prayer,
Oh Lord please Comfort me!
Im getting there...

Im aftaid to step out on faith.
Literally and physically you see.
Stuck in this world of being nice all the time that i had forgotten about MY goals.
Forgotten about what I wanted to be in life.

Im afraid to step out on faith because the last time I left my comfort zone I got stepped on.

Like a roach in my mom's attic 
I was too small for my own good.

afraid to step out on faith.

afraid to let the ones that I love see the true me because life isnt as polite as i thought it was.
afraid to trust because
you had broken a trust that was already in shambles.
afraid.
afraid of what's to come after
all that has happened.
So I give it to you.

Im afraid to step out on faith, 

but the more you break me down the closer i get to the floor.
As i drop down 
On one knee
Two knees
I humble myself to the Lord.
I gasp my troubles away.
My Lord my God you were right there!

look in the eyes of your spirit, Cheryl

step out on faith
you hold the power
step out on faith
miracles can happen
step out on faith.

Im afraid to step out on faith.

but dont judge me.
Because im,
Im getting there

Thursday, June 12, 2014

POETRY: Silent Love By Cheryl A. Baldwin

Silent love.
     no room for reality.
Cares given away to THIS world.
          Love as not a soul,
   not an image, not a face,
but an entity.
Seeping through this, semi-permeable heart of mine.
and I’ll never forget the day that your silence spoke to mine
and your daze transformed me into the flower that I have become.
Lift me higher, and higher
            With your quiet sentiments
And love me… only in virtuality.
 Optimize your life and mine
… with this silent love
No room for reality.
Cares given away to THIS world.
       love as not a soul,
    not an image, not a face,
but an entity.
Why does the world challenge us with the intellectuals
            like our whispers cant break the subliminal hate
no time for what we ought to be
… silenced by our intimacy
Silent love.
     no room for reality.
Cares given away to THIS world.
          Love as not a soul,
   not an image, not a face,
but an entity.
            You ran my dreams like the sun the earth.
Controlling my internal temperature
                         ventilating my lungs every spoken word
                                                            …and more.
Reaching for more.
        Every hushed kiss.
Silent love.
     no room for reality.
Cares given away to THIS world.
          Love as not a soul,
   not an image, not a face,
but an entity.
            Drag me out of it
                        Hard to resist

This soundless spirituality.

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

POETRY: "FRE3BAS3" by O.J. Huckleberry



IT'S LIKE THE 80s CAUGHT
UP WITH US.

Cocaine has become "cool"
again. 

We all have become fools
again;

It seems crack hasn't 
broken us enough.

Generations of ADHD babies
reborn on Cinco de Mayo.

The stench of Reaganomics
lingers in the air 

With Wretched Prejudice.

...

Newborns afflicted with 
weakened genes--- 

The struggle for a normal
life, has become painful.

We ignore the dangers facing
our community,

Crack is wack, 
Cocaine got us stuck

Like Blood hounds 
searching for a trace-less scent.

 --- After all who wants to 
be friends with a

Fre3Bas3 baby?






CopyRight || 2014 || O.J. Huckleberry










Sunday, May 4, 2014

POETRY: "Intellext" by O.J. Huckleberry

Her words, concise,
Brief, like these lines.

Filled with landmines
of explored rhetoric.

Her articulate tongue able
to dance with syllables

Like lovers at an elegant
reception.

...

She's receptive to my
knowledge, taking in
My heavy vocabulary

Regurgitating her thoughts
like well planned blueprints;
she's meticulous with her words.

Our ideas take flight
with every additional
contribution, we learn

Better from each other
than from the professor.
She asks me:

"What is love as you
understand it?"

I reply, "It is a relationship
in which you never cease
to learn, one where you grow

together."

...

Is this what it feels like
to be in love?
Or, is this a mere infatuation?
Her intellext is attractive for sure.

And I know she's intent on
loving mine.
Her third eye scintillates
like the stars.

She is sequacious and
seductive, smooth and
salacious, slender and
slick.

I surpass her aesthetic
preferences and mental
expectations; she knows
I can be quite arrogant.

I breathe easier knowing
she's formulating ways
to impress me, instead of
stress me.

Dare I say
I've met my match?

Copyright || 2014



















Saturday, March 1, 2014

POETRY: 'Eyes Wide Open' by Kabriel Moorehead

Eyes Wide Open
By Kabriel Moorehead

Somewhere in between being short on change,
And being unable to afford not to,
We crossed paths.
Unknowingly a casual smile without a stutter
Caused my soul to grow wings and flutter,
A few steps ahead of my mind.
Because something so pure,
Wastes no time waiting for reason to catch up.
Sometimes the pressure inherent in words ruins
The beauty created by a moment birthed of innocence,
And nestled in silence.
As the final fleeting seconds of our encounter unfolded,
I mustered the courage to ask for your name.
You smiled once more
As I awoke,
Finally facing a reality more regal than my dreams
Copyright 2014| Kabriel Moorehead

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

POETRY: 'Mess To Masterpiece' by Jazelle Handoush

Mess to Masterpiece
By Jazelle Handoush

You poured ink onto my skin and said,
"This is what you are.
A mess.”
But I contradicted your claim
and used that ink to twirl black holes and starry cosmoses
across my arms
to make the mess into a masterpiece;
an art.

Copyright 2014 | Jazelle Handoush

Saturday, January 18, 2014

POETRY: 'A Signed Declaration' by Kabriel Moorehead

A Signed Declaration
By Kabriel Moorehead

Do I dare disturb the universe?
Remove the rustic shackles from my mind
And proceed to rise without a quiver in the face of my captor?
 Do I dare dream,
Of concrete fashioned into roses
That arose in spite of bitter luck
Do I dare speak?
For fear of repercussions has left many like me silent
As the world blinds us,
With images of cruelty interspersed with decadence;
Causing our minds to wander off to the same old tune
Of change with no action,
Love with no romance,
And feasts with no flavor.  
I dare to write,
To love,
To speak,
And to dream,
Boundlessly.
Because it’s the only way I know to truly be free

Copyright 2014| Kabriel Moorehead

Monday, December 23, 2013

POETRY: 'Gorilla' by Kabriel Moorehead

Gorilla
By Kabriel Moorehead

Breathe,
Let it all sink in
Relax the body to uncover a soul
Burdened by a weight I alone must carry.
A two ton monkey on my back
Attempting to impede progress.
I can't let you win.
Its a struggle to retain humanity under these circumstances,
Night in and night out as you berate,
Chastise, and undermine my efforts
Consistently adding to the load I bear
How much is enough,
When more is always the answer?
I must unleash this beast,
Rid myself of this cancer!
I can use the fire in my belly,
To subdue the Gorilla on my shoulders.
And lose myself in the process,
Or use the weight I've lifted,
To find the strength to soldier on a little longer.
Remind myself that this load I carry,
Is only a temporary companion,
Testing my character with company

Copyright 2013| Kabriel Moorehead

Sunday, December 22, 2013

POETRY: 'Respect' by Cheryl A. Baldwin


Respect the mother with the Angel baby

Whose love is hidden and suppressed by love lost

                Loved and lost again

…and again

She reaches towards the heavens with a question

Why me?

“Why choose to tease, when you know how to ease my aching soul.”

She said

Why must I go through this?

 

Lurking behind the chambers of her heart lies a memory

…Senses of a child unborn.

Clutching her stomach daily because she just can’t knock the feeling that there was,

 and still is something there.

Respect her, for her baby will never crawl, walk, then run,

…but flies towards the sunrise.

And still she pushes on…

Praying like it’s all she’s got.

Only through faith does she achieve it.

Every day, trying to catch up with a never ending plight to sanity.

 

Just take a minute to Respect her for all she has had to overcome,

and let her know that you are with her.

 

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

POETRY: 'For Madeleine' by George Abraham

For Madeleine
By George Abraham

To the girl I danced with at freshman year homecoming,
I apologize for stepping on your feet.
As if our dance wasn’t already awkward enough,
My lack of coordination didn’t go well
With the fact that you were barefoot, and I had wooden loafers on;
So I apologize for any bruises I may have left that night;
Maybe this was the reason you didn’t dance with me again
Until the time I decided to step on your feet at senior prom;
I’d like to say I improved my dancing over the course of
4 years of attending sweaty, cramped, orgy-like high-school dances,
but that would be an understatement-
perhaps the only thing joining the step team did to me
was help me learn to step on your feet more elegantly…

To the girl who sends me random snapchats of her cat,
I swear you’re not a crazy cat lady.
Yet.
And sadly enough, you’re not my only friend who
Snapchats me pictures of their cats;
In a digital world where exchanging perverted images can be done with the swipe of a finger,
It’s nice to have friends who sends me pictures of cute animals every now and then;

To the girl who got an awkward tanline when she crossed 2 bandages over her freshly-done bellybutton piercing before we went to the beach,
I think that outline of a cross on your stomach was the closest thing you ever got to a baptism.
And no, I don’t apologize for not warning you when the tide washed upshore
And got your whole torso soaked;
Sorry, that was for the time you gave me an awkward nickname,
And embarrassed me in front of everyone at a football game;
We have a healthily unhealthy back-and-forth, at-each-others-throats relationship,
If I had to give you a spirit animal, it’d probably be a barracuda

To the girl who invited everyone to her house to jump on her wet trampoline after a day at the beach,
It still angers me that your deep-fryer broke just when we started making wings.
But that movie you wanted to watch about flesh eating bacteria really made me lose my appetite anyways;
Those were good times-
That week before everyone went their separate ways for college,
And all we could do was kill the time we’d look back and cherish one day…
Because beneath the hookah-smoke-leaking smiles, and grains of  sand and shell fragments that littered our car floors,
Beneath the white lie excuses we’d give to our parents, and the nights that ended when the moon consumed our eyelids,
There was us.
And we were happy.

To the girl I danced with at freshman year homecoming,
I don’t know why it took us till senior year to become friends.
Maybe it was because my dancing turned you off,
Or maybe it was because we both needed time to come out of our shells;
Whatever the case may be, I apologize for any bruises I may have left-
That night, or any other;
Because being that pair of friends who fights every day can get exhausting;
I never thought I’d look back on my battle scars and smile,
And all I can say is, being your friend has been
The best boxing match I’ve ever fought.
I hear you may be going camping with us when I come back for winter break.
I guess that means round 2 commences….


Now.

Copyright 2013| George Abraham

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

POETRY: 'Dreams' by Kabriel Moorehead

Dreams
By Kabriel Moorehead

Have you ever wanted something so desperately,
That you were willing to race the stars across the sky for it?
Leap Valleys,
Bridge Oceans,
Transcend time?
Have you ever yearned so passionately for something,
Anything,
That it sent ripples through your skin,
Tremors through your bones,
And combust infernos in your heart,
Creating a feeling that was at once indescribable,
And full of tangible outcomes.
But Is risking the world worth the glory of a single fleeting moment?
We speak of our dreams as if they are a concrete entity,
Something to own, hold, cherish
And chase to the world's end
Without any regard for consequences.
When in reality they flutter like feathers in the wind,
Always in reach but never in grasp
Recklessly causing us to drift further from safety.
Maybe the point of dreams is not the simple attainment of a goal.
No,
It's the show of resilience required to achieve it.

Copyright 2013| Kabriel Moorehead

Thursday, August 29, 2013

SONNET 'Granddaddy' by Trinity

My soul is weary ‘cause my heart does mourn
for granddaddy, my most dearly beloved.
I feel as if it’s been ripped out and torn
because he lies still like he never was.
I will lay his heart right next to mine
so that where his leads mine will follow.
I hate the fact that we ran out of time
for now my soul is a friend of sorrow.
My heart once beat from the love he had shown
unconditionally, no strings attached.
But now my heart has been left so alone
because no one compares, there is no match.
More days shall pass when my heart beats sadly

‘Cause my heart will beat, but not granddaddy's. 

POETRY: 'Poker Face' by The Trinity

The sight of a

new woman

impairs the heart,
but one cleans
obsessively to erase
the tracks of all
tears, making
sure there is
no way to detect
the broken heart.
The main objective is to
deceive the opponent.
Cry silently but
bluff aloud.
 Don’t be foolish
enough to throw
all cards on the
table, for that
mistake was made
before and everything
that was once
possessed was taken
away. Though one
may hurt, the m.o.
must be kept in place.

POETRY: 'Photo' by The Trinity

The past caught in a frame.
A moment frozen still,
never to be thawed
again.
One’s history in a square.
A monument that never
crumbles.
Former times dwelling
in the latter days.
A resurrection of memories
on what used to be.
A reminder of who once
was.
The one thing that can
make time stand still,
a necessity, since time
is what takes away the
dearly beloved.