POETRY: "Inside these Hazel Eyes" by George Abraham

Inside these Hazel Eyes
By George Abraham

“If you could change your name
to whatever you desire,
what would your new name be?”
She asks me.

And I replied, “Madame,
with all due respect,
that is such a silly question.
For this name is more than a
requiem to 2 presidents;
it’s more than just letters,
and words printed ever so
ephemerally on a small
square parchment;
this name runs deeper than
skin and bone,
and rhyme and reason,
and sense and sensibility
to me.”

She looks at me with puzzled eyes
and says, “Go on.”

I turn to her and say,
“Look inside these hazel eyes.
These are the eyes of my grandfather,
who was also named George.
These are the eyes that saw
rags turn to riches;
that saw farmland in Ramallah, Palestine
turn into suburban paradise in America.
These eyes saw my grandmother bear
3 blessed children,
only to dissipate soon after,
for these eyes belonged to a martyr;
a martyr for the cause of opportunity.
For that great voyage to America,
it killed him,
and I would be ashamed to
allow his name to
dissipate just like his eyes did.”

I pause.

“Go on,” she says.

“Look inside these hazel eyes once more.
These are the eyes of Anthony,
to whom my middle name
resides in honor.
These are the eyes that
saw his father die at a young age,
yet he was the eldest child in his family.
He was a father and brother
both in tandem
to his siblings;
the very essence of responsibility;
the proof that this world hasn’t gone mad yet;
the image that guides my success,
for he was my father.”

I pause.

“Go on,” she says
for she knows my story is not complete.


“Look into these hazel eyes
one last time.
These are the eyes
that carried a bloodline,
once proud and strong,
yet it is turning to dust.
What was once a family
of the most noble people
is becoming a generation of
greed, lust, insubordination.
People ask me why I shoot so high
in my goals, my future ambitions,
and they don’t realize that I was
raised by a bloodline of strength
that’s fading quickly.
You see, I was always told to
shoot for the stars,
not clouds.
Clouds are for dreamers,
but stars?
They’re for creators
and I am the creator of my own destiny.

I am
and will always be
George Anthony Abraham.
I hope this answered your silly question.”

Copyright 2012| George Abraham

Sunshine by Reggie Drake

"Aint no sunshine when she's gone,
Its not warm when she's away.
Aint no sunshine when she's gone,
She always gone too long,
Anytime, she goes away.

This is what I sung when she left me,
Like summer leaves spring in its wake,
Beginiing anew after procreating something beautiful.
It's impossible, to even quantify the immeasurable amounts of love
I showered upon her,
Like rain cascading from an endless stream.
She was that,
Young girl that always giggled and blushed,
You know,
The type that made all the dudes have a boyhood crush,
Even I,
Fell in love with the melodic symphony that ushered forth from her delicate lips,
The sheer beauty evident in her angelic countenance made me flounder and gasp,
Desperately seeking for a single syllable to articulate from my mouth.
But there was none, not even one that
I could use to accurately depict the divinity she portrayed in her gait.
To me,
She was like a god,
The false idol i worshipped with undying and unwavering devotion,
I would swim miles just to satisfy the enormous ocean of her desires.
There really was no sunshine when she was gone,
I was mesmerized, and captivated by her sensous being,
Wooed by baseless carnality,
Like a wayfarer who succumbs to the enticement of a siren,
Not knowing that while she had the grace of a mermaid,
Harboring deep within her was the soul of a witch.
She was ALWAYS gone too long,
And i never wondered why,
Refusing to look past the pleasant guise exacerbated by my indulgence,
And I thought,
"Hey, I oughta leave this young thing alone...
But aint no sunshine when shes gone,
Just darkness everyday,
Anytime she goes away."

Its amazing, how love will play tricks with your psyche, tame your soul into obedience,
And make your heart backflip,
Turning the entire human body into a circus attraction,
It starts with attraction,
But ours never grew beyond that,
We hit all the bases, even home runs,
So how did we miss the basics,
We basically discarded the emotional attachment involved in our union,
We were looking for something physical, when we should have been searching for the spiritual,
Its time to let go, may your silhouette dissapear, and dissipate into the shadows of my past.
Not only is there sunshine when your gone,
Theres only darkness when your here...
So I hope that you hear,
The words,
That I speak.
And know that you'll never make a fool outta me.
Goodbye to the yesterday we shared..
And hello, to the future I journey alone.
Away from the Angel,
That took me to Hell.

Midnight Summer Dream by Reggie Drake

It's perplexing,
How we flee from the things we sometimes seek,
With naked foot as is to circumvent the phantoms of the past.
The desires that we once gave chase to suddenly dissipate from withdrawn hands,
The ephemeral limitations of human flesh thwart the advances of audacious visionaries,
Pursuing the illusive midnight summer dream,
Appeased by the pleasant guise exacerbated by supernatural comfort,
The ease of a mundane life drives us mad.
On the stroke of midnight pass,
Like vibrations of a bell,
Fashionable madmen raise their boring cry,
Forseeing what the tarot cards fortell,
For they are not paid in currency but in misery,
They are shackled behind the barriers of inhibition
They exist as does Jupiter,
The enormity of superficial pleasures is paramount
While the substance within remains nonexistsent.
But why does impediment linger,
When soul and body have no bounds.
Only he who enjoys the fruits of lifeless luxury find this mortal world enough,
To house the dormant potential we carry.
The ability to circumnavigate the winds of change,
And propel a once meaningless existence towards the manifest destiny we were ascribed,
Is what i dreamt beneath the twilight of divinity.
Its amazing,
How we are but pions to the God of the universe,
Yet we can change the world with the spirit that was instilled in us,
And with a heart that is willed enough,
Dreams deferred can blossom into fruition and cannot die, for if dreams die
Life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly
Our inner desires stmye the swelling of the soul,
A soul that is finally free from its hellish crypt.
I once thought, that if I reached for the stars they were mines to hold.
Now I know that if I reach even further,
The universe is mines to own.
To think, that I uncovered this divine wisdom while laying,
Not in a bed, hammock or tree,
But underneath the heavens,
In a Midnight Summer Dream.

POETRY: 'The Dreamer (Love Letter #2)' by Kabriel Moorehead

The Dreamer
By Kabriel Moorehead

The girl of his dreams haunts him nightly
Drifting in and out of his amygdala's made up memories
Always playing a major role
But never present in the final act
The curtains close every morning
Leaving a star searching for answers among his peers
Only to be reminded that the constellations share no secrets
Oh but if they did, the anecdotes they would tell
A story for the ages
Of memories drifting down the stream of consciousness
Lost
Although never forgotten
To the man who chases them in vain
A cheeky smile leaves a imprint on his mind
Like fresh tracks in the wild
It is a path to be followed
As he attempts make up ground
The dreamer takes flight

Copyright 2012| Kabriel Moorehead

IMAGE: "How I Got Over" by Robert Drake

(How I got Over)

As an African American, I am
Underestimated.
As an African American Male,
I am a target.
As Rob, I am Victorious and the
Universe is mine to own...

POETRY: 'Yesterday' by Robert Drake

Today, she over a
thousand miles away
and yet I still find myself stumbling
stupidly over my
two left feet, wondering
if she'll ever come back
to me.
For you see,
this girl made my heart
take off into the high heavens
sending down love in
the form of crystal tears.
She made my feet move
to the sound of her
heartbeat even though I was
blessed with the ability to
dance.
She made wanna write little second
grade love notes that said :
"Do you like me, circle Yes or No"
Maybe so,
If she knew that I would
bring a titan to its knees
just so it would not harm her then
maybe "no" wouldn't have
been an option
I would auction off my love
if I knew she would be the inly
one bidding.
I would even marry her,
if she was here to stay,
But today, she over a
thousand miles away.
She would always be self conscious
of her own self without realizing
her beauty was in a league of its own,
and I would tell her :
"Baby do not worry about those
stretch marks, they are just God's way
of showing you that you are growing,
I love your brown skin and the way
it compliments your lovely
features, even the way
you wear your hair, in many different
forms yet each one makes
you look more gorgeous than
the last
and if the Bible could be rewritten
it would say that God kicked Lucifer
out of heaven because he did not look like
you.
Girl you are beautiful,
and by beautiful, I mean that you
are a complete blessing
wrapped in the fabric of my
deepest desires, tied with
a bow of dreams,
shipped off at lightspeed
and delivered to me by angels.
Like a thief in the night,
girl i want you to take my heart
like here...have it.
Because n distance can ever
separate two hearts that really
care.
And if velocity equals distance over time
all that really means to me is
velocity equals It doesn't matter over
it doesn't matter.
And maybe sometimes,
it Does matter.
But right now, it doesn't
Today she's over
a thousand miles away.
And even though she's not here with me,
I feel her presence wherever I go,
and tomorrow, we'll be closer
than yesterday."

CopyRight 2012 | Robert Drake

POETRY: 'Rationally Irrational' by The Trinity

It’s not weakness due to weakness that I fear;

I am scared of weakness due to purposeful vulnerability.

I have opened myself up like a book,

allowing him to read me from cover to cover,

inside and out,

but are my fears irrational?

Am I over complicating this idea of blind love

that makes me suppress my intuition?

Retiring my ability to read others,

not because the characters on their personality manuscript are foreign to me,

but because I have become dyslexic,

scrambling thoughts and actions

that may look like one thing

and be something completely different.

Is it fair that there is a pain in this world

that has no cure except time?

Not knowing when or how

to calculate the distance I need to travel

to get away from pain,

since speed is too slow

and time is too long.

It scares me because my misery

is left to prorogue in boundless hands.

So…

are my fears irrational?

What makes sense then?

Do anticipated uncertainties make sense?

Uncertainty is ignorance, correct?

Surely, we could agree that it’s rational to fear uncertainty. 

It’s rational to fear what you don’t know…

anticipating what you don’t know…

becoming aware of what you don’t know.

In matters of the heart,

is it rational to fear becoming aware

of what you don’t know

when you think you know everything 

as it pertains to your lover?

There’s a name that fits…

secrets.

Is it rational to fear secrets

when you stand with a heart wide open…

when you stand with a sore wide open?

Think about it…

As long as hearts can be broken,

I will continue to act confused

due to my irrational fear of misplaced confidence,

all in the name of purposeful vulnerability…

all in the name of love.

This is rational.