“Tha Black”

This  poem was featured on a website 3 years ago…one of the first that I posted on my hacked blog “Write and Prosper”. Still love it. Not just because of the message, but because of the way I wrote it. I wanted people to really take time to read the words in, so I put them together.

Tha Black…

Thablack standsaboveoceanswhenunexpected
cansinkwhentheheartisheavy
butshewillneverdrown.
timewillreleasetheanguishinhertheart
youwillneverbringherdown.
Plantyourseedinhermidanatomy
Shetakesthatpain, individually.
Thablackmakesavowtothatseed
Hewillgrowtobethenewmillenniumrevolutionary
continuingthelegacyofstrongblackman
thatwasskippedoveryou.
Thablack
Taughtbyancestorstowalkonburningsand
birthed,clothed,fed,cried,fought,andlaidonthegroundforyou, 
withoutherinthisworldyouwouldntknowwhattodo.
Withprideyouoffercastigation,andshetakesyourverbalblows
Yourwordshurtlikepointyneedles
Thablack
Stillstandsaboveoceanswhenunexpected
cansinkwhentheheartisheavy
butshewillneverdrown.

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Mathematics

Mathematics

Who really understands the complications of mathematics?

Too lazy to comprehend the difficulties in division

I just know that the divide exists between our colors and it’s not

adding up.

The common denominator is we’re human, though religion

creates subtraction of acceptance and deception carries the torch

When we act upon our terrorist activities just because we don’t want

to understand those who are different.

One plus one, carry the 2 and multiply by a billion, we all have the same

issues, passing through this lifeline trying to get an E for effort.

Einstein said E equals MC squared, the formula for energy and matter

Yet we put energy in issues that don’t matter

Multiplication in discrimination

Numbers high, a world epidemic taking over the minds of our children

As they watch and learn this hard world that we live in.

Guess if we want to solve this problem,

We have to do the math.

30 DAY “SHARE YOUR WORLD WITH YOUR FOLLOWERS” Challenge

Hey!

One of my great blog followers commented that there was a 15 day blog challenge in effect, one that would allow my blog readers to get to know me more, as well as help me with the commitment on blogging on an everyday basis. I like BOTH of those incentives, so I have decided to participate and I hope you do too.

Day ONE: Answering 10 questions about myself, and posting my own favorite blog post.

Basics:
1-Nickname- Kymmie.
2-Birthplace- San Diego, CA
3-Background- My mother is Black American from San Diego, CA, my father was Afro-Arab from Kalabsha, Aswan, Egypt. They met while my dad was here for School, and dated for one year.
4-Siblings- I have two brothers on my mom’s side, and 6 siblings (probably more -_-) from my dad’s side. He was a busy guy. LOL.
5-Blog purpose- It is a personal blog, I don’t use it for any professional purposes. I simply write my poetry, articles, and stories passionately, unapologetically, and obviously without much editing. 🙂
6-Do you drink?- Yes… I’ve heard a rumor that most writers do…LOL. (See- http://www.theguardian.com/books/2013/jul/20/why-do-writers-drink-alcohol )
7-Relationship status- I am in a relationship, and happy.
8-Passions?- Educating myself on Black American revolutionary sub-culture. Of course that ties moreso into the past as opposed to whats going on today. I find it very interesting and inspiring to see how strong and powerful Black revolutionists like Stokely Carmichael, Huey P. Newton, Angela Davis, and Assata Shakur were in previous days, and how much their beliefs and activism can influence and strengthen the downfalls of our youth today (if they would just pay attention…). I am also passionate about writing. Currently trying to finish up a novel, hoping to take it to the SDSU writers conference in January.
9-Do you believe in karma?- Yes, I do. I don’t usually like to go into these types of discussions because people have their own beliefs..and I hate arguing with them about it. See, I understand and love the theory behind Karma. It is more than “Whatever you do, will come back on you” or “Karmas a bitch”. I believe that we ourselves are responsible for our own happiness and misery. We create our own Heaven. We create our own Hell. We are the architects of our own fate.
10-Favorite Book?- Hmmmmmm, I’d have to go between Cheaters by Eric Jerome Dickey, and The Autobiography of Malcolm X. Each one for different reasons of course. Cheaters was the first book that I had read by Dickey, and he proved to be a very passionate, thorough, detailed, and intelligent writer, all while penning fictional stories about sex and other things we may consider seedy. My kind of writer. :). TAOMX was one of the first books I’d read of its kind. It taught me a lesson that is difficult to do through a book, I felt proud..to be me. “Why am I as I am? To understand that of any person, his whole life, from birth must be reviewed. All of our experiences fuse into our personality. Everything that ever happened to us is an ingredient.”
He was a strong and intelligent guy, his entire book was a proclamation of that.

My favorite blog post? Would have to be this poem:
https://theartinthepen.wordpress.com/2012/02/02/life-this-shits-dope/

Why? Because life IS dope..and every once in a while, we may need a reminder. 😉

Peace!

Abandoned Queendom-Spoken Word In Print

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She wanted to be respected, but her definition had been infected by the very same men that she’d expect to protect her. She speaks that one day she’d like to make changes, but that want for change never changes into a reality and the reality is it doesn’t have to, what the world requires from her is exactly what she is giving to them, making sure her body measurements are the right size and that she isn’t in the right frame of mind, to be desired is required but teaching her daughter the fundamentals of life as the best created from womb, the woman, seems to fall down low on the to-do list, but that doesn’t have anything to do with her as she is only one woman, who creates one more life and one more opportunity if only she knew how much she could make history, if she only knew how much our culture needed creativity, how we could paint a change on this black stain of cultural mediocrity, starting from the actions of herself, going way beyond natural hairstyles and birthing Black children and doing whatever is necessary to obtain financial wealth, we all pay the price one way or another, and maybe one day or another…the woman will recognize we will always rule as crowned queen, one day.

The Humans Work-AfriCa

My skin is burning.
My skin is burning from the sun above me even when it is dark outside.
My stomach growls from hunger for change
I haven’t eaten today, but I say nothing because
My voice is silent from stolen sounds.
My brother is crying, he’s howling from famine
but nobody hears him.
WE are scared of the dark, but the dark keeps emerging.
Our lives are like unwatered plants
we beg to be watered with equality
to be chanced with opportunity
but instead with are riddled with war and poverty.
I close my eyes and watch my imagination run wild
wishing not for material things but simply to heal
the cuts on our bodies,
heal the AIDS all around me,
the Malaria in the babies,
Wish for the land to take care of us,
Let religion help and not hinder us;
Bring forth our fellow man to build our homes
and not burn them down.
I open my eyes and see that I am on different sand,
A different time zone.
But I feel the pain from the forgotten;
these people are me.
Grasping tightly onto my hands,
yearning for me to remind you
That they are still there, we should be there
Using our opportunity to change the world
to help change their world.

Women In Color, Covered By Fascination: Alice Walker

This is not a fancy shmancy article so forgive my errors, but I question…how it is possible to celebrate ALL that is Black History in one month out of the year? With so many fascinating stories, people, and movements? and it’s not just the slavery, struggle, or fight. It is the people who lived through the stories and have made Black History the very essence of what we should be proud of.   There is nothing more special than spending time getting to know those who have raised their fists in your futures honor. The artists, activists, speakers, and all of the above’s, they should be celebrated.  I have decided to take a few hours out of my day and spend time writing on a different Black individual and their strides. I’ve decided to start off with a Black feminist who wrote a strong story and led a very powerful path for writers and revolutionary women alike.

*ALICE WALKER*

A name that rings with all intellectuals and followers of history, Black and White. She penned the story of “The Color Purple”, giving a passionate real life view and understanding of the struggles in Black slavery, love, relationships, and abuse to the modern-day individuals who may not have been able to study or learn it from their family members. Before she wrote “The Color Purple”, a Pulitzer prize-winning novel, she began penning poetry, writing her first book of poetry while a senior at Sarah Lawrence. Women like Alice are a goldmine for people like me, those who appreciate the birth and life of real life artists, and have been able to write their name in the sky of history for the world to keep forever. I hope that I can pass a message to promote self-awareness and pride in our future. The stories of the people being pointed out in my 29 stories of Black Stride will surely get anyone interested in doing something powerful to get on their feet.

*ALICE WALKER INFORMATION*

AKA Alice Malsenior Walker
Born: FEB 9th, 1944
Birthplace: Eatonton, Georgia
Gender: Female
Religion: Buddhist
Race or Ethnicity: Black
Sexual orientation: Bi-Sexual
Occupation:Author
Nationality: United States
Most Notable Work: The Color Purple

a BB gun accident blinded and scarred her right eye. The experience of this disfigurement profoundly influenced Walker’s life, leading her into a self-imposed isolation that was open only to her thirst for reading and her love of poetry.(Read more: http://www.answers.com/topic/alice-walker#ixzz2AAFqvVb9)

Alice is the author of several literary pieces, with a lot of them being poetry and short stories. Although I have not been able to read them all, I have come across one particular poem that stood out to me titled “Our Martyr”:

Our Martyr

When the people
have won a victory
whether small
or large
do you ever wonder
at that moment
where the martyrs
might be?
They who sacrificed
themselves
to bring to life
something unknown
though nonetheless more precious
than their blood.
I like to think of them
hovering over us
wherever we have gathered
to weep and to rejoice;
smiling and laughing,
actually slapping each other’s palms
in glee.
Their blood has dried
and become rose petals.
What you feel brushing your cheek
is not only your tears
but these.
Martyrs never regret
what they have done
having done it.
Amazing too
they never frown.
It is all so mysterious
the way they remain
above us
beside us
within us;
how they beam
a human sunrise
and are so proud.

The thing that stood out the most was her poetry scrap-book from when she was 15 years old, “Poems of a Childhood Poetess”. It reminded me of myself, because I wrote my first poetry book when I was 9 years old!

Alice has so many accomplishments, which include activism for womens rights, anti-war,  countless literary pieces, and SO much more. She is a hero to aspiring writers like myself and I hope that one day I will be able to touch people the way she has done me.

-Keep uplifting Alice! ❤

Kymmie

Colors Never Change Like The Seasons: Poetry

In the spring, I would run through the sprinklers and see them watching to see if my color would change.  I felt free in their glances, not knowing that they were wishing to change me like the seasons, they thought that surely the sun rays mixed with water would wash away the brown flaw that was spread across my body.

But by summer time, I’d discovered that those stolen glances from bigoted thieves made me uneasy; my easily darkened skin could set fire to the edge of people’s comfort, as if the sun were setting their intelligence on fire. But I found solace in knowing that surely it was a struggle living with a small mind in such a big world, heated debates fed the cold-hearted in a way that kept them in neutral temperatures.

Autumn had a funny feel about it though. Made one forgive the trees, as it would eventually lose its leaves, much like the man would leave the earth, and another would grow in his place. Each time, in each place, replaced with new unfamiliar faces. Hopefully one’s that like to watch the new leaves grow, those leaves representing an open heart and an open mind.

That would prepare them for winter, when only holding hands can protect them from freezing hearts under the moon shine, and each man becomes every man, no longer fearing for the future but loving all the present, until we are all running through the sprinklers again and instead watching together for the seasons to change.