They were expecting a boy
She was named after her father
But it didn't suit her, so she'd change all that
Elegant, graceful and well put together
Not quite an angel..
Her mouth was sharp and hands were heavy
She could sure work a room
Yes, this lady was something else..
Raised four boys on her own
Til Sergeant swept her off of her feet
Calling her "Joan"
He was crazy about her.. we all were
She had a sweet side
Some called her "Puddin"
But she goes by.. ~Willa
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
~By Maya Angelou
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."
This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.
With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:
My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,
From every mountainside, let freedom ring!
And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.
But not only that:
Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:
Free at last! Free at last!
Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
Lady Love is on a mission to Nevergonnahappen Land looking for that complete, impeccable,
unflawed and in mint condition idyllic man. As she searches high and low, far and wide, her journey is
interrupted by Mr. Here and Now. Mr. Here and Now is fun but he's not someone who is built to last. So
on she travels and runs into Mr. Bad Boy. Bad Boy is also bad news. Everything about him screams run,
run, run, but she is intrigued by his bad boy appeal.
After several bruised egos and torn heartaches later,
Lady Love finally pulls herself back together again. One failed encounter after another, she comes across
Mr. Rock. Lady Love is worn and distressed by now. She doesn't even see that Mr. Rock holds her up
when she gets down. He wipes her tears when she cries out. He is the wall she leans on when push
comes to shove. He listens when she complains about Mr. Here and Now and Mr. Bad Boy. Mr. Rock
doesn't judge her; he only has her best interest in mind.
Lady Love, wake up and see what's in front of you. There is no such thing as a complete, impeccable,
unflawed, in mint condition idyllic man. He doesn't exist. What does exist is a man who loves you like no
other. A Mr. Rock in times of sorrow and pain. Like Lady Love we have all searched for Mr. Perfect and
ran across a lot of Mr. Wrongs. When we decide to stop looking for something that is never going to
happen and get ourselves together first we will be able to tell a good man from a bad one. For the ladies
that have been on this journey for far too long don't give up. Your Mr. Rock is out there somewhere.
You just have to recognize him when you meet him.
Written by Audrey Fuller
Two different sides of the track
With no strings attached
He saw black and, it was beautiful
Some kind of way we just flowed
I asked him..
"What do you see in me"
He replied in the sweetest tone..
"I see myself"
Every note was like silk to my skin
My ears inhaled the sound
Composedly I lay there and watch him
As he plays for me....
My grandparents were not born with silver spoons
Every dime was earned
That house down the hill, that fancy car, those intelligent offspring
Yes they had it all
"Perfect" you ask?
Oh no, not even close, but somehow royalty ran through their veins
They're gone now, but that same blood still flows
The inheritance left behind was worth more than gold
Dignity, pride, confidence, loyalty, power, respect, and the never changing word of God
I honorably carry this with me daily, so will my children
and my children's children
BEWARE... STRONG WOMAN..
Dream big but don't you dare act on it!
Shine too bright and the shade will come
Knowledge is a secret, you know nothing
Have your goals but you better not reach them
Don't you cry
If mama is helpless what chance do we have
Work hard with no expectations
They won't notice
Dress up, chin up, smile for the camera
But leave it all at the door
There's work to do and it has nothing to do with you
Now after you've set everyone else up all nice and pretty
That was 20 years ago...
BEWARE STRONG WOMAN!
Inspired by the racist murder of nine worshippers at Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina June 17, 2015.
Who am I?
I am bright, fun,
Insightful, and done.
Done with hypocrisy, stereotypes
Judgment, and fantasy.
Fantasy that says that I am not worthy
Because of my genealogy.
Genealogy that includes me in a courageous group of men and women,
Soldiers for freedom,
Fighting for the right to be human.
Who am I?
I am more than what you see,
When glancing at me,
As you wonder should I be,
Next to her while I eat.
I am more than the cynical comments
Found scattered throughout various internet posts and blogs.
I am more than a statistic,
I am realistic,
Realistically fed up with all of the hate - it goes both ways.
I am destined to be great
Because of my ancestors fate.
Their fate was to die for my right to live
In a world where the color of my skin
Should no longer count as a negative.
It's too late - too late to still fear
Our intentional successes
Brought on by our education no less.
And our relentless desire to be
Recognized as an integral part of this country's achievements.
Who am I?
I am capable, resourceful, successful - in spite of what they say.
I am educated, creative, loving - despite the hate.
I am an American proud of the heritage that presses me forward to be better - the pain, the struggle, the inhumane treatment - I will never forget
Who are we?
We are more than the color of our skin,
Look deeper and then maybe
We can live together freely.
A Startling Revelation
I had a little talk with Briana’s dad
Left me feeling sad
Hell I was feeling real bad
Cause I needed reassurance, needed to be sure
That the love he says he feels is pure
Honestly I just don’t know
See there just isn’t a flow
Or should I say vibe
Although my love for him
I do not hide
I am not convinced it is he
Who I should be with
Say I do to
I love you too to
He doesn’t get it
Says I’m on some mo shit
I’m who he wants to be with
But my inner child
My wild child
Says uh-uh, no way
Not this day
My heart should be safe
In a comfortable place
Anyone can provide
All bullshit aside
That long hard talk
Convinced me that its time I walked
Away and claimed my spirit
And let him deal with
Whatever demons he is possessed by
Stressed by pressed by
I have come too far to cry
Traveled to far to turn around
For some brother who keeps me down in the dumps
My coffee deserves two lumps of sugar that is
Because I have gone too long without taste
Sweetness going to waste
Soul searching and claiming my prize
I dry my eyes and refuse to cry
Watching dusk turn into dawn
Finally my sunshine has come
By Shamyra Kendricks