original poems

Hinneni

Author: 
Madelyn Campbell

I am from the Rabbi of Białystok
I am from God
I am from New York City - where the Yankees play
I am from great loss and grief
I am from a father who told me that I was someone and
I should do something
I am from the Cuban Missile Crisis and duck-and-cover
I am from one small step for man and one giant leap for mankind
I am from white gloves and pirouette dresses, the ballet
      and the opera and Shirley Temples at Lincoln Center
I am from injustice in the first grade
I am from fighting back when the boys tried to hurt me
     for killing Jesus
I am from horses, from generations of horse people
I am from sewing clothes and baking bread
     and being the only girl in shop class
I am from oops and trial and error
I am from speaking up and speaking out
I am from my children
I am from the place I just left - from the footsteps
     just behind me
I am for the path ahead
     going where each next step takes me
     following where my God leads
I have left my impression where I’ve been
And I carry the dust of my journey all about me
  Becoming with each step
I am from
 and I am for
     and I am becoming

Growing Up Michael Jackson Fans (In The Ghetto)

Author: 
Christopher D. Sims a.k.a UniverSouL
Michael Jackson

He was our hero. His magical moves
brought hope to the ghetto. Gallantly,
Micheal showed incredible ability.

We watched with wide-open eyes,
as his Moonwalk left us electrified.

Deep in the ghettos of America,
Black children found a prophet that
Helped us escape from poverty, from
hunger, from hopelessness.

We learned to spin out of our sadness
and leg kick our lack of resources.

Thriller, Beat It, and Billy Jean.
Thriller, Beat It, and Billy Jean.
Thriller, Beat It, and Billy Jean.

Ronald Reagan was our president,
but Michael Jackson was our king.

We needed inspiration. We needed
motivation. Because of The King of Pop,
we found our fire, our determination.
We were able to push through
the challenges of growing up in this
nation.

In sequined white gloves,
black and red leather jackets,
and penny loafers, we reached
for creativity, stretched for a
new world, danced ourselves into
becoming ghetto superstars. With
Michael Jackson on the screen
the world was ours.

Our childhoods were good
growing up in the hectic eighties.
Drugs and gang wars made
things crazy. Crazy.

No ifs, ands, or buts, Michael
was, and still is the man. In the
ghetto, we were better off growing
up Michael Jackson fans.

© Christopher D. Sims
October 5th, 2013

Pages

Subscribe to original poems

Latest Wizduum Blog Posts

Forum Activity

Fri, 10/31/2014 - 08:11
Mon, 06/16/2014 - 07:09
Tue, 10/01/2013 - 22:01

Acknowledgments

wizdUUm.net is made possible in part by generous support from the Fahs Collaborative