Tag: people
member name: Umar, Abu Nurain
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July 21, 2007 12:31 PM EDT --
This poem is based on true events reported in a local newspaper.
She loved him so much
She shot him twice
Left him once
For dead
In love’s name
Anyhow, he lived, somehow
Her guilt drove . . .
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September 04, 2007 10:20 PM EDT --
I must have been 5 or 6 years old. I was down with the measles, which meant the portable radio was placed on my nightstand. The radio was big and brown with just a few knobs. A warm light snuck out the . . .
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September 10, 2007 03:41 PM EDT --
BEDROOM
in the brevity of this room
where we last were we,
before the searing darkness
of dead stars burned
these holes in my heart –
before the sadness of trees
in the middle days of . . .
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October 05, 2007 04:22 PM EDT --
Penumbras flickered near the shadows’ edges,
Striking the empty wall: a dizzying array
Blacks and grays
Plain against eggshell white, yellowed in time;
Black etchings mimed winter-bare trees, . . .
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October 30, 2007 02:14 PM EDT --
The English language, not surprisingly, is rife with terms coined at sea. The British Isles, after all, are islands and the residents of those island travelled the oceans far and wide. Many of the common . . .
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September 06, 2007 09:24 PM EDT --
January wrapped its frigid arms around us. We raised our thick, woolen collars to keep her breath from slithering down our necks. The patrol wagon’s windows still held the winter’s icy visage . . .
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December 12, 2007 05:33 PM EST --
I nearly died when I was born. My parents took me back to the hospital where I was treated for a problem that persists even now. From this auspicious beginning, my life evolved like . . .
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October 27, 2007 08:57 PM EDT --
a little something for Halloween...
crude hand hewn maple
stained and flat stringerless stairs
nailed and open risers
menacing monsters
murky basement dwellers
. . .
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October 30, 2007 09:54 AM EDT --
There are conflicting stories about where the term bogeyman originated. The Spice Islands, for me, seem the most likely. Hence this little poem. Have fun!
The spice-laden bark,
. . .
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July 20, 2007 05:49 PM EDT --
We had picked up the mooring lines the night before. Now there was a bellowing wind from the south building seas and creating wave sets that smacked us abeam, stretching those mislaid mooring lines taut. . . .
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July 27, 2007 06:15 PM EDT --
I know Gatherers prefer shorter poems but this is an experiment that I couldn'tsay no to. I've done something unusual with a standard form just to see how it would work. . . .
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August 23, 2007 06:25 PM EDT --
I spun the wheel until the knotted center mark was in my palm. I lifted the engine’s lever and the diesel hummed as I quickened my step along the deck, grabbed the stinger and lifted the mooring . . .
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August 27, 2007 12:35 AM EDT --
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September 11, 2007 07:36 PM EDT --
H. Rap Brown, dark glasses and beret, stood on the roof on a store next to the Dexter Theater and asked the incendiary question: what will a penny buy? The chorus, well attuned to the tragedy . . .
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September 20, 2007 01:10 PM EDT --
We arrived in San Antonio Thursday afternoon and fled directly to the River Walk in search of margaritas, chips and salsa. First, we surrounded the Alamo until we found the list of those who died for those . . .
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July 18, 2007 03:34 PM EDT --
I read this poem at my father's funeral.
Spindly, black and ashen legs
Sprouted from brown, high-top shoes,
Rose and lost themselves in baggy blue jean shorts
These silent bell clappers . . .
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July 26, 2007 02:24 AM EDT --
The following lyrics were penned by an old school hip hop artist known as Rakim. In the early days of his career, he was part of a duo named Eric B and Rakim. Eric B was the DJ and Rakim the Emcee. As . . .
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August 06, 2007 04:32 PM EDT --
Burning away the gentle fog of youthful remembrances is the harshness of being a Black man over sixty years old in America. I lost my youth in junior high school when we began the too oft repeated internment . . .
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August 29, 2007 02:17 PM EDT --
The best winds return to Southern California in the early winter. The day-sailors, oblivious to rhythms more complex than a weekend sunset, end their sailing season when August, summer’s last breath, . . .
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September 08, 2007 08:58 PM EDT --
My parents determined that everyone should perform some form of labor for the good of the family. You may call them chores but we called them jobs and I had one as long ago as I can remember. I had bathroom . . .
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