Feel Free to Roam

Writing in College

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Cultural Felo-de-se

I’ve never experienced the actual urge to flee my skin to discard these layers of blackness until tonight. As my fortitude gradually exited my conscious thought and for the first time I was consumed with this overwhelming desire to acquire whiteness. But as I commuted on that ridiculous slave ship from Crown to Church Ave, I realized it was more than just this burden of blackness but the condemnation of this impoverish culture and the way it is replicated and transcended throughout these broken streets and robotic bodies. I’m constantly bombarded by this intense presence of grave doom; daily combating this realism of black fate. This American blackness is like a festering disease borrowing through the deep layers of my soul, ceasing my truths and reconfiguring my DNA. I’m tired and I want to go home. But the bitter truth is the home I cling to does not exist anymore. It’s consumed with its own ideals of cultural deconstruction…

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Kwansaba Rewrite




Hum102-001
Kwansaba

Omianna Hintzen - James
Golden honey lit yellah woman, burning through
knowledge. Air soldier full busted mover, flat -
feet shaker, ground rebel claimin 1979, blessed
child, journey free spirit, womb soon yield
strong cocoa filled babies that take flight
against doubt , renewed imprints on once vacant
womb, familial veins scatter like spiders web.

Nanny of The Maroons.
Hit the ground like mongoose take flight
Boom Boom Boom Boom! Master Jack on
the attack. 800 souls came through your
door, Shango say dem was so much 
more, laid flat at river banks hidden
bush ruby freeing trapped slaves . Reckon Captain
 Sambo took yah body, not your soul.

Biggie Smalls a.k.a Christopher Wallace
Illest outlaw, shatter hooked phonies on ghetto
blocks . Fucked Blues and birthed Hip Hop .
Junior M.A.F.I.A, Bad Boy, NYC full- timin.
Under ground hustler, dollar pusher straight climbin.
O.G Prophecy , sable heavy padded, 1972 popped
out womb. Lyrics as thick as Bob Marley’s
Dread Locks, forever soldier to Hip Hop .

Free Verse .

I Cry Murder Me


Attempted murder in the first degree
I've hustled my
soul through the tunnel of present
And I find myself
rigid and torn
hurt and ashamed
scared and worrisome.

Attempted murder in the first degree,
I've hung my spirit around the rope of love
I'm staggering to remain conscious of my illusions
cause even my illusions don't comfort me
Attempted murder in the first degree
I find myself consumed by a disease
contracted from the tools of humanity.

Fatal wounds that linger masked by glee,
ignoring the devastation of my tragedy
with each second that slips by, I lose my life.
Convicted in the first degree
I resolved that I’ve murdered my Identity.
Scattered my morality to
compromise my senseless misfortunes,
cheated time and traded my mind for
sensuality and a fountain of Hennessey
unforeseen conception now strives to survive in
a swine of despair and defeat
Refrain my unborn one,
regardless of thy strength
Dead on Arrival you are destine to be.

sorrow and grief - I seek my honesty
cradled in thorns and abandon by love
I seek no blessings...they only fail me.
Just a blade to drain this uncertainty
Attempted murder in the first degree.
I Cry Murder Me.

Rewrite of Ghazal -Patacake

October 5th, 2010
Prof. Latasha Diggs
Ghazal
Patacake

Three cornered harmony laced infectious pride
glazed rich obsidian of enlightened bold pride

Your initiation though stealth with readiness was
tainted with fecal extensions of cold pride.

Shifted through broken spaces, nested in foreign places
sudden swollen compromises lead to aborted pride.

Found you in vestibules of scattered moralities
chasing fallacious cures, betting on failed pride.

 Haunted visions from Sankofa’s lens beckoned
stubborn ears, to cries of aged maternal pride.

Internal libation dispelled trapped demons
life now came forth in new familial pride.

Fueled potential opened rich spaces, labor
for tangible passions of respected pride.

Meticulous portal only curved rounds who planted
potent seeds of fulsome youths marked African Pride.


Pathway of Chaka Zulu, Nandi, Askia, 1763 Coffy,
Toussaint, Martin, Madiba, Winnie, iconic Pride.

Tri symphony breeds rhythms from Ghana to
Rwanda, Buxton to Congo blood tonic pride.

Trillion cut worshiped gem tranquil reign
Unfold fresh values, valiantly rain pride.

Candace renewed womb-man claims it all
Hidden balls, proud walls scream of attain pride.




I tried to adjust the rhyme scheme within the couplet, which was absent in the original poem.

Form: The Ghazal
Topic: The magic of your body part (you pick the part)

Strategy: No "the", "and"; "-ing"; abundance of concrete imagery and metaphor; "I" should only appear once;
use of consonance and pun in every stanza.

Rules: A poem made up of twelve couplets (two line stanzas) all using the same rhyme.

1. Each line shares the same meter

2. The second line of each couplet usually ends with the repetition of a refrain of one or two words

3. In the first couplet, both lines end in the rhyme and refrain

4. The poet puts his name in the final stanza.

5. Always expresses a mystical thought/journey

6. 13 syllables per line


Rewrite of Pantoum - Mothers Home Land


Prof. Latasha Diggs
November 22nd, 2010
Hum102-001


Her Broken Eldorado

Weary Atlantic crashes against her shores of
oatmeal intensity, invades her prolific
womb carving mighty Kaieteur, who gallantly
shields primal beings of majestic Amazon Forest.

Oatmeal intensity, invades her prolific
precipice, mold heights of nature’s power,
shields primal beings of majestic Amazon Forest
and scattered bones of transported monarchs.

Precipice, mold heights of nature’s power,
Where six nations broke through colonial bondage
and scattered bones of transported monarchs,
whose sons and daughters now calm unease lineage.

Where six nations broke through colonial bondage,
her skeletal villages swell in hunger of vanishing souls
whose sons and daughters now calm unease lineage
ripped from life’s grasp and thrown to unmarked tombs.

Her skeletal villages swell in hunger of vanishing souls,
womb carving mighty Kaieteur, who gallantly
ripped from life’s grasp and thrown to unmarked tombs,
weary Atlantic crashes against her shores.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Nneka - In Charge

Nneka - Kangpe