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PAD Challenge Day 15: Middle East

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PAD Challenge Day 15: Write a middle poem Middle East Breaking news everyday  Breaks my heart to hear  Al Jazeera says the same thing Conflict in (blank) War on (blank) and (blank) Drones and missiles  launched on (blank) by (blank) Attack on (blank) At least (blank) causalities Total deaths in (blank)  Civilians face (blank) and (blank) Refugees require (blank) (Blank) fears (blank) (Blank) accountable for (blank) Women and girls (blank) and (blank) Babies (blank) Mosques, homes, businesses (blank) Rage and more rage between (blank) Fires, amputations, and famine in (blank) Strikes on aid in (blank) Aid delayed in (blank) (Blank) pledges to do (blank) (Blank) will be responsible for (blank) (Blank) accuses (blank) for (blank) There is no (blank) here Just people dying in the (blank) Crying in the (blank) Running from the (blank) to the (blank) Hoping to find a little (blank) and more (blank) While men in power debate about (blank) I think about the lives  destroyed and damaged  How p
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PAD Challenge Day 14: Black Steel Magnolia

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  PAD Challenge Day 14: Write an ekphrastic poem. Black Steel Magnolia I met her for the first time on Saturday, June 17, 2023, at 10:30pm, in Charleston, South Carolina at One Hundred and Eighty-Five East Bay Street. In the right wing of the private dining room, is where you can find her.   She’s in an ornate gold frame. I was too distant to decipher  the painter’s name in the lower left corner of the canvas of blended oils and acrylic paint.   Her background is midnight black and purple. She looks like the big momma that many in this generation needs today. Her skin is medium, deep bronze, smooth like silk. No blemishes. Over a U-shaped neck, her oval shaped face owns no smile. More like an RBF.  Perhaps, she’s confused, disdained,  maybe a little exhausted but clearly alert, or just appalled. Her eyebrows are relaxed and medium arched. Her left eye, decorated in pink pastel eye-shadow, is bigger than her left. Her lower lip is heavier than
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PAD Challenge Day 13: What It Feels Like... Living Black

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PAD Challenge Day 13: Write a living poem What it Feels Like...Living Black I'm a gift from Africa/  a curse in America  where I'm loved by the kindred/ hated by the Klan Blessed by angels/ condemned by demons Magical by culture/ copied by vultures Born free but  Skin feels hunting Independent by choice/ colonized by force Challenged with adversity/ swindle by greed Amplified by inheritance/ underestimated by the arrogant Admired by pupils of love/ envied by green eyes Desirable by the honorable/  disadvantaged by the prejudice Accepted partially/ denied by the majority  Heard barely/ ignored widely Seen by many/ unnoticed by a few Mysterious from afar/ suspicious in close view Everyday It is me verses everybody and everything  Everyday  I'm full of struggle and strive A whole rhythm, flavor, style and vibe. Everyday Still weary and wary Everyday  Sometimes worried and afraid  Everyday I fight  Everyday  It's hard It's tough It's exhausting  But everyday I birt
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PAD Challenge Day 12: I Wish I Could Rap

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PAD Challenge Day 12: Write a funny poem. I Wish I Could Rap I wish I could rap. I would be on Dreamville because I am a Dreamer from the 'Ville. My name would be something like Dr. DOC. I'd be iconic like Run DMC. An original and distinctive MC. I'd drop rhymes like polka dots. Have number one albums like Hov, In different area codes like Luda. With a flow like Eminem and Notorious, I'd be the new B.I.G. And if you take shots, I'll expeditiously split your W.I.G. Spit lyrics like Pac, Nas, Lauryn, and Lupe. Fashions styled by the college dropout Kanye Storytelling slicker as Slick Rick's Push positive images and narratives, No pill popping or pushing bricks. Catalog feature Rapsody, Missy and Badu Hell, invite the whole  "Ladies Night Remix"crew We'll party, laugh and dance all day. Charcuterie boards, champagne, and moet. Truth is, can't you tell I'm better at being a writer and a poet At least my stanzas can sho
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PAD Challenge Day 11: A Trip Down Memory Lane

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PAD Challenge Day 11: Write a memory poem. A Trip Down Memory Lane Along the path of your temporary loneliness, how would you remember me? Call out my name like  a parent in search of  their lost beloved child. Let every syllable ring  off your tongue  like the words  from your favorite  rhythm and blues. If I became air,  would you substitute  my existence or forever yearn for me? If I welcomed a new age, without your presence,  would you celebrate my DOB,  light a strawberry lemonade  cake, make a wish  for my safe return? Would you buy  my favorite things,  have them waiting patiently  for my arrival? If I left today  and went  far, far away  becoming a  daugther-in-law  to another nation,  a best friend forever  to a beautiful unknown sea, What would you desire of me? What would you  remember about me? Would it be how the sun  rose in my pupils Or how the moon  tapped dance along my iris  while in your arms? How my lips borrowed  poetry from yours? Would it be my leftover  Lancome&
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PAD Challenge Day 10: I Know Better

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PAD Challenge Day 10: Take the phrase "(blank) Better," replace the blank with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem. I Know Better  I'm not comfortable  with echoing  "hurt people hurt people" because I've been hurt too. Hurt badly like bruised fruit  under scorching Fahrenheit  summers by boiling blood  and troubled waters. Hurt so deeply,  that it's a blessing  that my skin has not  vanished or turned  its back on my  own blackness. My epidermis hasn't  molded or become  too soft to caress,  too exhausted to heal in my own hands  or too dangerous  to my own health. It's good to know  that my heart  can still breed love  and my mind can  remember the sweetness  over the bitter  through it all with  no indications of  lifetime infections. It's a miracle that love is compressed beneath  my thick skin and  tendered bones. All while hurt be  only hurting me alone because I know better  than to hurt people  the way the
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PAD Challenge Day 9 (two-for-Tuesday): "Love" and " jealous & wicked"

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PAD Challenge Day 2 (two-for-Tuesday):  Write a love poem and/or anti-love poem. Love In the morning, mid afternoon, and even late  at night, our love  is eros,  philia,  and ludus. I pray it  remains agape, and pragma  for philautia, through storge; never growing  mania for You and I. jealous & wicked Lately, I've being trying  to avoid, straight up dodge  jealous and wicked people. People disguised as  angels and friends. The Mean Girls and Rude Boys. The low key, green with envy  type of gravitational energy. Never happy. Never satisfied. Never optimistic. Always complaining. Always miserable. Always delinquent. Out of control and out of light. No joy. No peace. No gratitude. Low self esteem. Low confidence. Low security. Worried more about other's affairs and home rather than their own. No goals. No dreams. No ambition.  Just intentionally spoiling happiness sad. No faith. No hope. No belief. Don't know what a friend is,  how to make one or keep one. Just use, delet
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