VIDEO ::: Warsan Shire is Poetry Goddess

for women who are difficult to love from brianna olson on Vimeo.

warsan versus melancholy
(the seven stages of being lonely)

warsanshire.bandcamp.com/

-----

for women who are difficult to love

you are a horse running alone
and he tries to tame you
compares you to an impossible highway
to a burning house
says you are blinding him
that he could never leave you
forget you
want anything but you
you dizzy him, you are unbearable
every woman before or after you
is doused in your name
you fill his mouth
his teeth ache with memory of taste
his body just a long shadow seeking yours
but you are always too intense
frightening in the way you want him
unashamed and sacrificial
he tells you that no man can live up to the one who
lives in your head
and you tried to change didn't you?
closed your mouth more
tried to be softer
prettier
less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel
him travelling away from you in his dreams
so what did you want to do love
split his head open?
you can't make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love.

-----
words : @warsan_shire
warsanshire.tumblr.com/

image : @briolson
bri.lovevolution.org/

VIDEO ::: Gil Scott Heron Message

Gil Scott Heron
"Message to the Messengers"
A powerful message from a powerful voice.

ART + POETRY ::: Beautiful Lips

 
BEAUTIFUL LIPS
by Tye Johnson
24x30" Mixed Media on Canvas
©2006
Art Prints ::: from $48

ART + POETRY
Poem by Niya Holland
Lips full, tainted with rouge
Lips pursed, trying to decide what to say, what they should do.
It's not a ready-made attitude, that fullness you see.
These Lips stay closed more often than not. Please believe.
Holding in teeth and tongue, thoughts ready to be made vocal, and set free.
Yet I heard it's a gift to be a lady with lips like these.
They even market products just so others can have full ones like me.

©2010 Niya Holland Lloyd.

ART + POETRY ::: Brainwash

BRAINWASH
by Edaw Wade

Part of original mural painting in Detroit, 1976.






















POETRY
by Stephanie Danforth

My journey is filled with decisions I must make
Chances I must take
And For my mothers sake
I often revisit my childhood
One filled with religion and full of hope
She tried every tactic in the good book
But prayer is no match for the streets,
At least it wasn't for me
I tried to do right, I meant to be there
To make up for my own father not being there
But life isn't fair, As if they actually care
I was sought out by the man,
It's like they dragged me by my hair
Come with me and be my slave
A slave to the environment that we put you in
An environment that you can't escape
And when we're done with you,
We'll brainwash another
So is there really hope for the next young brother?

Words (c) Stephanie Danforth, All rights reserved 2009

WANT MORE FROM THIS WRITER?
Twitter @StephDanforth
Website Venus Diva Magazine
Blog Rhythmic Soul

POETRY ::: Affirmation by Assata Shakur

Assata: Exile since 1979
On May 2 1973, Black Panther activist Assata Shakur (JoAnne Chesimard) was pulled over by the New Jersey State Police, shot twice and then charged with murder of a police officer.

Assata spent six and a half years in prison under brutal circumstances before escaping out of the maximum security wing of the Clinton Correctional Facility for Women in New Jersey in 1979.

Due to government persecution in her own country, Assata moved that same year to Cuba where she now lives in exile.

Thankfully, she still writes and is able to share her expression with the world.


Affirmation
by Assata Shakur

I believe in living.
I believe in the spectrum
of Beta days and Gamma people.
I believe in sunshine
in windmills and waterfalls,
tricycles and rocking chairs.
And I believe that seeds grow into sprouts,
And sprouts grow into trees.
I believe in the magic of the hands.
And in the wisdom of the eyes.
I believe in rain and tears.
And in the blood of infinity.
I believe in life.
And I have seen the death parade
march through the torso of the earth,
sculpting mud bodies in its path.
I have seen the destruction of the daylight,
and seen the bloodthirsty maggots
prayed to and saluted.
I have seen the kind become the blind
and the blind become the bind
in one easy lesson.
I have walked on cut glass.
I have eaten crow and blunder bread
and breathed the stench of indifference.
I have been locked by the lawless.
Handcuffed by the haters.
Gagged by the greedy.
And, if I know anything at all,
it is that a wall is just a wall
and nothing more at all.
It can be broken down.
I believe in living.
I believe in birth.
I believe in the sweat of love
and in the fire of truth.
And I believe that a lost ship,
steered by tired, seasick sailors,
can still be guided home
to port.

TASTING YOU

Poem by Magnus Holmgren

The snow falls down,
each flake dancing closely with its neighbor,
creating a veil,
a curtain,
that my eyes can't see through -
like the veil before your heart,
tightly covering it,
an iron curtain,
impossible to see through,
to get in.

I knock,
gently,
hug it,
kiss it,
but all I get,
is a metallic taste on my lips,
one I can't shake,
one I don't want to shake,
because -
at least it's you,
I get to taste -
you.

If only you could see,
my own veil drop,
so long ago -
that the doors to my heart,
have been open for so long,
they no longer exist -
it's wide open.

Inside,
in that big green field,
beneath that giant oak,
sits only you,
wearing that smile you wore when we first met.

That is what I see,
everyday,
when my thoughts wander off,
to meet you.

Now the snowflakes are dancing further apart,
the veil is lifting,
I can see clearer now,
beyond the horizon of my mind I see you -
waving,
smiling,
drifting further away -
until you are gone.

Confused my thoughts scream,
a deafening echo in my mind,
desperately I look into my heart,
the green field is gone -
it's all black -
scorched,
all that's left of the oak -
is a pile of coal.

When my mind is once again silent,
I run my fingers through the coal,
slowly put them against my lips -
and I taste -
nothing.

©Magnus Holmgren 2010. All rights reserved.
Twitter: @poetisk
Blog: I Write

FOR KINGS, SOLDIERS, BABAS, BROTHERS AND LIONS

a poem by Omobolaji Omidele
dedicated to the fall of tkon

i have become
everything you've asked of me

my hair is coiled
into beautiful roots
i wear bright colors
long skirts
geles
the copper bangles you like

feed the babies vegetables and fruits
i grow with my own hands
and watch us all glow

but you complain
if i cry
deny my reason
if i reveal my heart

i know the stories of our african kings just as you do
i overlook your dismissal of the queens
but whisper their stories to our daughter

no one cries for my deferred dreams
not even me
maybe i need to release those backed up tears
when i hear a beautiful poem
or song
or when you hold me
if you hold me

i cannot help who i am
is there a reason your heart
must remain locked away?

i love your mind
but i also know you have a soul
i glimpsed it when our daughter was born
when our son took his first steps

i'd like to get to know it
but it never emerges for me
because of the struggle
because the people's pain trumps our own

because i can take it
because you're over it
because
because
because

i have become
everything you've asked of me

but you never asked me
to be
myself.

©Omobolaji Omidele 2010 all rights reserved.
Blog: Seat of Bliss

POETRY ::: I Wanna Thanks the People

Poem by @butterflyylostI wanna thank the people
Whose blood, tears, prayers and hard work got me here today.
When you only had a penny that needed to make a dime.

I wanna thank the people
Who marched, ran, hid, lied and yes died.
All so I could bear witness today.

God has had hand all up and through history.
Well at least MY history, and if he took his hand away where would I be?
Where would you be?

Still I wanna thank the people who kept us in line
Admonishing us all the while.
I frowned then but find myself thankful for it now.

I just wanna reach out and shake your hands and say thank you.
For loving. Hugging. Screaming. Caring.
I just wanna thank the people.

©Alysia Hargrove. All rights reserved 2010.

ART+POETRY ::: Malcolm, Angela, Martin Rebel

REBEL
by Edaw Wade
Digital art 2007
Part of original mural painting Detroit 1971

Art Prints ::: from $38
















Featured in this painting:
Martin Luther King
Malcolm X
Angela Davis






ART + POETRY ::: Poem by Speaks Beliefs
you dare define me
mold my reality
predetermine my destiny
rewrite my history
i study your theory
and see your acts
are cowardly
so I scream loudly
and do this proudly
closed fist raised above me
thirsty for freedom
you denied me
and I am worthy
oh yes, I am worthy
and those that
stand with me
fifty times fifty
times fifty times fifty
we REBEL!!!

Words © Speaks Beliefs, 2009. All rights reserved.

Art + Poetry ::: MY DRAWING HANDS

 
MY DRAWING HANDS
by Martha A. Wade
20x24" Pencil & Charcoal on Paper

ART + POETRY
Poem written by Stephanie Danforth

Fists balled up wanting to explode
Harnessing positive energy with no where to go
Reaching for the top not knowing what to hold
Grasping at possibilities trying to grab the gold
Exploring new horizons, letting go of the old
Passing the baton and relaying what we’ve been told

We go through new doors but we must close the old.
Do not cover your eyes but strive to be bold.
Continue to wipe the tears from your eyes and don’t be sold.
Your dreams are within reach, when you get there, don’t let go.

CONTACT THE POET
Twitter: @StephDanforth
Website: Daily Venus Diva
Blog: Rhythmic Soul

Art + Poetry ::: WOMAN POWER

Woman Power
by Martha Wade (@wadecreate)
60x60" Acrylic on Stretched Canvas, 2001
































ART + POETRY
Poem written by Niya Holland

Sometimes, we do all we can.
Sometimes, it isn't enough.
Sometimes, we fall short.
And sometimes, we want to give up.
But a woman's power is never-ending,
Ubiquitous and unwavering.
Witnessing a woman's power can give us all the strength
To brave the course
And wade through a sea of blue
To reach the flower at the end.

_____________________________________________

THE POWER OF A WOMAN
by Teresa Brouwer

Women are powerhouses. We can tackle just about anything. We work full-time while being pregnant and we still come home after an eight to ten hour work day and have dinner on the table, kids bathed and in bed by 7pm.

Women are creators. Without women, the human race wouldn’t exist.

Women are your best friends.
The strongest bond in this world is between two women who are the best of friends. Women will always be there for one another no matter what. We are caring, sensitive, and always available for our friends.

Women are honest. Women are honest with themselves and you can count on women to be honest with you about anything.

Women are self-sacrificing. They always put their needs second especially for their children, spouse, and family members. A mother will put aside a pair of shoes she has been dying to have so that way her child could have what h/she wants. A woman will put aside her career to start a family.

Women are smart. Women learn all trades of life from working, playing sports, cooking, cleaning, giving birth, raising children, to holding down a full-time job while taking care of a family.

Women are fighters. A woman’s experiences in life may bring her down, but then will bring her right back up again. She knows how to move forward and she knows how to fight for her life and her rights.

Women are strong, beautiful, and bold.

Art + Poetry ::: BLUE PRAYER

BLUE PRAYER
Digital Art 2007 by Edaw Wade
Variation of original "PRAYER" oil on canvas 1971

ART + POETRY
I'm falling, spiraling, crashing down
To the bottomless void of hell
There's no one there to catch me
My prayers of song,
Offer me hope and solace
But the darkness consumes me
I'm lost, confused, ashamed
For the things I have done

I love and fight for what's right
Yet so scared for what may come
Trying desperately to understand
But the gray haze clouds my mind, the lines blurred
What's right and what's wrong?
I'm falling, spiraling, crashing down
To the bottomless void of hell
There's no one there to catch me
Will there be peace when I'm done?

Photo comments
Canvas Prints from $49

ABOUT THE POET
Written by Nur Zahra Young ©2010. Nur Zahra Young is a young female artist and designer that loves movies and TV shows. She plans on turning the world into an abstract canvas!

Twitter: @Aura_talZahra
Art Shop: Zazzle Shop
Art Blog: Live Journal Geometric Art

ART ::: I Value Me by Tye Johnson

I VALUE ME

by Tye Johnson

24x30" mixed media

art prints from $45

ART + POETRY
poem by @wadecreate

what is your value?
do you feel fine?
are you happy,
in your own skin?
aged like fine wine.

do you rejoice
in your mind,
despite trials and
strife?

and find the value
within yourself,
every single day
of your life.
i value me.

Art + Poetry: PROUD

PROUD
Original Digital Art, 2008
by Martha Wade (@wadecreate)

PROUD not cocky
just sure of herself,
no boosting just embracing
beauty of self,
proud to be aware
and at peace with self.

~ poem by Mark Dews
Twitter: @TearlessPoet
Blog: Words of My Dryn Tears


PROUD... beauty that can't
be kept under wraps
with a shroud.
Curves screaming loud.
Proud.
Able to halt a crowd
with the simple act
of curving her hips
and lifting her brow.
Wow.
Proud.
Words dipped in wisdom.
Proud.
Passion the color of crimson.

~ poem by Tracy Renee Jones
Twitter: @TracyReneeJones
Blog: Me..being Anonymous

Art + Poetry ::: SOUL FOREST

SOUL FOREST (click image to enlarge)
by Martha Wade
Original 35x50" Acrylic on Board ::: private collection
Fine Art Prints ::: from $38

POETRY by Stephanie Danforth
Standing tall
We’re intertwined
Our souls collide
Then we divide
We’re faced with obstacles
From multiple directions
Then we return
To deal with life's pressures
The fort we build is an unbreakable bond
Try to burn one you may burn us all
Despite our differences,
Our colors still glow
Like a rainbow
Or more like a forest full of soul

CONTACT THE POET:
Twitter: @StephDanforth
Website: Venus Diva Magazine

Art + Poetry ::: FUNERAL DAY

FUNERAL DAY
by Daniel 'Nshira' Akortia
20x30" Acrylic on Canvas

FUNERAL DAY is a modern rendition of “Funeral Procession” by artist ELLIS WILSON painted circa 1950. This famous painting was featured on The Cosby Show living room for years.

POEM by PHAT GYRL
Everyday, I see this woman
She looks like you & me
I just can’t figure out where I know her from
Or, If we’ve ever even met
What I do always remember of her is her sadness
Almost cold, not harshly towards others, but for herself.
It seems as if she’s only around for me to see
‘cause no one else seems to notice her pain, but me
One look, and see her suffrage is clearly visible
I’m afraid to ask her if she’s okay
For fear, I will not know what to do if she says:

“No, I’m not okay!”

CONTACT THE POET:
Twitter: @PhatGyrl
Blog: Phat Gyrl Blogspot

Art + Poetry ::: CONTENTMENT

CONTENTMENT
by Edaw Wade
Original Oil on Canvas, 1972
Digital Art enhanced, 2008

Poem by Magnus Holmgren
Her
naked
curvaceous
ebony skin,
shining with desire,
just like glowing embers,
longing to be fueled again
so that the flames can rise higher,
until she finally explodes, from
the heat, of that sweet satisfying fire.

CONTACT THE POET
Blog: Poetisk Blogspot
Twitter: @poetisk

Art + Poetry: T~DANCE

T~DANCE
by Martha Wade
30x60" Acrylic on Board
photo comments

ART + POETRY
Poem by Mark Dews (@TearLessPoet)

Rhythm seductive
from head to toe
it flows,
beauty
in motion
even has the wind
in a twirl,
laugh so sultry it
dances
through your heart,
a hypnotic dancer
like poetry
in motion,
vibrant dance
is the embodiment
of art.

Art + Poetry ::: THE SOLO

THE SOLO
by Nshira
30x40" Acrylic on Canvas













Poem by Zian Silverwolf
Bring the rhythm,
For the dark of days is lost
As the music brings the sun
Hear him play,
The world be made of grey,
But the heart is gold,
It brings the soul
To the guitar that he holds.

Hear the riff
From the guitar man with the joyful hands
As fingers drift by fingertips,
A sweet song from sun-drenched lands

In the grey of night,
He brings delight
Through the sunshine in his hands.

CONTACT THE POET
Website: Zeddess Arts
Twitter: @zeddessarts
Blog: Zeddessarts Blogspot

ABOUT THE ARTIST
Daniel "Nshira" Akortia is a painter from Ghana. He signs his paintings as "Nshira" which means Blessing. Nshira paints from his personal visions, and brings to life the scenes from his village and country.

Art + Poetry: CAN I GO OUTSIDE?

CAN I GO OUTSIDE?
by Martha A. Wade
16x20" Acrylic on Canvas

(click image to enlarge)








Baby Steps
a poem by Mario

my skin misses natural light
longing for the moment
when escape from the Stalag is real
I will run
feet floating over broken glass and plasma
past the flowers and away from harm
I run
past momentary lethargy and questionable practice
putting my toy truck to good use
cleaning up our current condition
placing the debris somewhere where adults will forget
my nana tells me to take baby steps
she knows I can fly

Written by Mario
© 2009 No Blank Mission Pub.
All Works Protected by Karmic Law Roosevelt Franklin Writers Guild

CONTACT THE POET
Blog: Mario in Hyde Park
Twitter: @marioinhydepark