It's Growing, by Antroy Wolfe

Like a snow ball rolling down the side of a snow-covered hill
it's growing
like the size of the fish that the main claims broke his reel
it's growing
like the rose bud blooming in the warmth of the summer sun
it's growing
like the tale by the time it's been told by more than one
it's growing

Every day it grows a little more than it was the day before
my love for you just grows and grows
and where it's going to stop I'm sure nobody knows

like the need in a guy to see his girl when she's gone away
it's growing
like the sadness in his heart when he knows that she's gone to stay
it's growing

it gets a little wider
nobody knows
it's gets a little stronger
the feeling from each kiss
it lasts a little longer
Can't you see us growing baby
it grows and grows and grows.

Where I Am Now, by Litany Lineberry

I am at a crossroad entwined within two paradigms,
done with my past but still looking toward my future.
I am growing each minute, each day, through self-motivation.
My blood is shivering in my body because I made it.
I am no longer wishing for a day with a presidential hopeful.
Nor reminiscing on a change to happen in America.
"Theme for English B" was written and today was read with fresh eyes.
Equally united through the passage of our past and present,
I am proud that Jena Six happened to show unity and that Jim Crow
did not gain an inch in this historic milestone.
I am pressing forward with my future being bright because I know
that life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness is
Where I Am Now!

Where I am Now, by Tom Cassidy

I am grown and I am ready.
I wonder about my home and the air.
I hear a gurgling call urging me on
whileI see a speck through the green.
I want to be there, I want to go.

I am ready and I am grown
I pretend to be still.
I feel the air beneath me and I touch it.
I worry about nothing.
I cry my cry for you, for you.
I am ready. I am grown

I understand short life;
I scream it to the world,
I say "You! You!" while I dream
the dreams of life.
I try to hide on rooftops,
and when I scan my horizon,
I hope to see myself in your eyes.
I am grown. I am ready.

In the Colored Waiting Room, by Hammond Wylie

At the dentist's, when I was a little boy,
I waited with our maid.
She said,"Sit down Pup; be still."

In the Colored Waiting Room
the magazines were tattered.
I had seen those magazines before
in the other, cleaner room,
another time when I went with Grandmamma
to the dentist.

This time the room smelled funny,
like medicine and sweat.
There were colored boys and girls with their mamas.

And a white boy I knew from church was there.
Ricky Jones.
He said his maid Cortez was a nigger.
He said Margaret was a nigger too.
I told him she was not and decided not to like Ricky Jones anymore.

When we left the dentist's office,
we went to my father's drugstore,
up the block,
here I proudly showed off my new teeth
and drank a Coke for being such a good boy.

As we walked home, down Pressley Street
I asked, "Margaret, are you a nigger?"
She said, "No. No one is a nigger in this world."
I'm colored, like the door says."

I was satisfied with this
and asked her about bumblebees.

Where I'm From, by Tamara Miles

I'm from a papa preacher, Oscar Floyd Moon,
when church starts at 9:30, I mean 9:30, not 9:31.
I am from his bride, Dolly Jeanette, her hair braided and coiled,
her patchwork quilts for everyday use
(Thank you, Alice Walker).
When I said I love you, Granny Moon said, Bless you.
I am from people who missed school picking cotton,
an uncle whose first check from his first job bought
school lunches for the rest of the year for his eleven brothers and sisters,
who had previously gone without lunch or ate with some embarrassment
a cold biscuit from home.

I am from the Rook-playing crippled hands of my Aunt Sissie,
Moon Pies and RC's and an old wringer washer.
I am from that little red-haired girl adored by Charlie Brown,
and from a real red-haired girl, my mother, Sylvia,
who liked to play tennis and Scrabble and ride bikes on healthy legs
but died earlier this year in a nursing home, legs and heart
and mind and lungs drawn up from multiple sclerosis.
I am from that moment, holding her while she took her last breath,
a lonelier person with a greater appreciation of heaven.

I am from a drunken father, likeable enough now, too old to
cat around or beat his wife. Sober. He has gout, diabetes, arthritis,
heart disease, and only one kidney. We go to the movies, hold hands
during the Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford.
We laugh, I love him.

I am from Jillian Delaney Miles, born to me at 6:23 on September 23, 1990,
who cried incessantly and didn't sleep all night til she was three, and then
discovered her joy. I am from Mommy, it's 7:30 and I've got a cowlick,
and When's the baby coming back? When I told her her unborn baby sister
had died. I am from the last time she fell asleep in my arms, when she was four,
and I knew somehow it was the last time. I am from last weekend, watching with
my seventeen year old Dickens' A Christmas Carol, and recognizing the ghost
of Christmas Past.

Where I Am Now, by Charles Nightingale

I am sincere/bold.

I wonder why humanity continues to reject peaceful negotiation for belligerent solutions.

I hear birds singing harmoniously.

I see unity in diversity with all our many splendored hues.

I want East and West to join hands.

I am sincere/bold.

I pretend I am a world traveler: India, Alaska, South America.

I feel more anxious than I should about society's crumbling.

I touch the future reality of the oneness of all religions.

I worry that God may run out of second chances for us to do the next right thing.

I cry that young people are so frequently incarcerated.

I understand the future is incalculably bright but tomorrow is still overwhelming.

I say Baha'u'llah, the Glory of God has come.

I dream all of we are one family, all of we are one family.

I try to teach let go and let God.

I hope the year 2021 will witness Mt Carmel [that is Haifa, Israel] hosting multitudes of Christians, Jews, and Moslems, too.

I am sincere/bold.

Where I Am Now, by Tembi Gray

I am a woman strong and passionate

I wonder why so many people are afraid of change

I hear the sound of tears of joy hitting the pavement just as the rain falls from heaven above

I see the reflection of the sunrise upon the oceans waves as its beauty radiates the sky the same way a painter uses precision and color to change a blank canvas into a work of art

I want a cappuccino from Starbucks, the one thing missing in Orangeburg where I live

I am a woman strong and passionate

I pretend to play house with my daughter as she becomes the mother and I digress into a child like manner and exercise my imagination and watch as hers is as its prime

I feel excited about the direction of my life although the entire plan has not been revealed but I continue to walk by faith and try not to depend so much in what I see

I touch the ruff surface of my grandmothers hands knowing that is the symbol of strength and love for without her unselfish acts I know that I would not be where I am today

I worry about whether or not my pen will capture the true manifestations of my heart and mind when at times words cannot explain my feelings

I cry when I see the faces of people living in poverty when we the US of A has millions of people so consumed in what I can get for mine without even thinking about so much as another

I am a woman, strong and passionate

I understand that God is the creator and owns the cattle on a thousand hills and I am his daughter so that makes me a beneficiary

I say true success is when opportunity meets preparation; I am sure that we’ve all heard the saying that is you fail to plan then plan to fail

I dream sometimes about growing old with my husband sitting on a porch drinking ice tea as we listen to the sounds of our great grand children laughing like the sounds of a majestic choir

I try to share my poetry with as many who will listen because telling it is the completion to writing it

I hope that my passion and strength was reflected in the word that I’ve written because

I am a woman, strong and passionate

Reinforcement, by Tamara Miles

In the bathroom at the high school
where I teach, two girls from the special
needs class wash their hands in the old white sink.
one lingers as the water rushes over her right
hand, left hand operating the chrome faucet.

I peek at her and she at me
while I quickly cleanse and towel.
I think of Helen Keller at the water pump,
her teacher spelling w-a-t-e-r into her hand
in the sunlight, and the mad and sudden
understanding.

The girl goes on washing one hand,
w-a-t-e-r, as if it is a spiritual ritual,
her friend now at the electric hand dryer,
looking at me looking at her,
all those eyes calculating and no words spoken
or spelled, but heavy in the air.
I am curious; this is awkward;
say something.

Her friend, who wears royal purple,
points to my keys,
which have fallen to the floor from my bag.
"Hey, your keys," she says, and I celebrate
the words, the dawn of her smile.
I am free to pick up the keys and go,
and still the girl washes.
W-a-t-e-r, I sign to God, to Him who sits
at the right hand of God, and think of
Jacob, struggling all night with the angel.
Jacob, walking with a limp forever after.

Where I Am Now, by Abdalla Straker

I am loud and constant

I wonder if my pulse is felt in distant lands

I hear melodies in the heavens

I see notes scrolling across the clefs of my mind

I want to paint a picture with rhythm that resonates for eternity

I am loud and constant

I pretend to be the heart of it all

I feel that all others must follow my lead

I touch the atmosphere with my vibration

I worry that my skin will suddenly burst

I cry when I am pounded instead of being played

I am loud and constant

I understand the importance of perfect timing

I say let’s come together to create music

I dream about unwritten songs that will need me

I try to always keep the band in-time and on-time

I hope for a masterpiece

I am loud and constant

Where I'm From, by Kayla Mullins

I am from wispy blond hair
and big brown eyes
I am from diapers and apple juice
Blankets and teething rings
I am from infancy

I am from Baptism
and Sunday school
from Kid’s Choir and VBS
from Conformation and Holy Communion
I am from St. Andrews United Methodist Church

I am from ABC’s
and hooked on phonics
I am from playgrounds
and time out
from lunch time and nap time
I am from kindergarten

I am from puberty
and rock and roll
I am from friends
and fights
I am from mascara
and formal dances
I am a teenager

I am from the SAT
and College Math
I am from prom
and graduation
I am from the Class of 2008

Where I Am Now, by Bernice Williams

I am unknown, but not unseen
I wonder what people see or think about when they see me
I hear nothing
I see nothing
I want to be known, but
I am unknown, but not unseen
I pretend to pay no attention, but
I feel their breath
I touch their hands
I worry that I am not accepted
I cry because it makes no sense
I am unknown, but not unseen
I understand that knowing the truth will neither hurt me nor make me
I say let it be
I dream that someday it will all make sense as
I try to feel my way through each day
I hope for tomorrow to be a better day
I am unknown, but not unseen.

Where I Am Now, by Anthony Williams

I am lost but I am found
I wonder if this path leads to the revelation set for me
I hear the footsteps of eternity walking beside me
I see where I have been but not where I really need to go
I want to run and run and still stay where I am
I am lost but I am found
I pretend I need to know but I really don’t care
I feel that whatever there is is not really there
I touch infinity but in my humanity can only know now
I worry that all that we think is imaginary is
I cry sometimes because that idea may be true
I am lost but I am found
I understand that human thought is boundless
I say that we need the freedom to explore it all
I dream of seeing what no one has seen
I try too hard sometimes to make it my reality
I hope that one day I’ll know the truth
Because I am lost but I’ve been found

Home Is Where My Mother Is, by Tamara Miles

Home is where my mother is, absent,
Green. Or is it where my daughter’s life is spent,
all bloom and beauty-full and content,
at seventeen. Is home somewhere in between?
In the aromatic sense of these two,
In the memories I keep,
In the bounty of grain growing deep
In the fields, sowing what I reap.
I gather home to me with each breath,
a train coming down the track bent,
noisily puffing, gasping my lament,
hurrying home, hardly seen.

Jena 6, by Litany Lineberry

Racism runs deep still in our souls
We make laws against it but that is just words on paper
How can we justify turning our backs on our country
We write it off as division being multiplied by lies and rejection
Our past we are to learn from but instead we make it our present
Can we change our fate and let our future show unity?
Unity now means equal but separate, together but complicated and truth but lies
Change was suppose to come over 100 years ago but yet it slowly evolved
Now in the "new age" we see change do a 180* having true hate arise again
Old symbolism returns to start controversy once again
Visual, verbal and physical abuse cause youth to turn back the hands of time
Going back centuries ago to that nation under God that was not unified
Why have our youth inherit such discipline that should have been destroyed?
A discipline that caused unjustice in our judicial system
Is it fair to take one side without looking at the situation as a whole?
We as a people, as one nation under God, should re-evaluate our stance on issues
Instead of looking at one negative look at all the wrong and judge accordingly
When we change our view of one sidedness then we can see the big picture
Charging with vengeance will finally be wrong, punishing sensibly will be right
SO let us say with out a doubt that we are truly "ONE NATION UNDER GOD" and end racism!

Final Call, by Litany Lineberry

I hear the last call for me to be alive
I wish it was you calling me to be at your side
The final call is ringing in my ears
I take one last glance
Oh why can't I live
Me and you should have been
But we were obviously in destiny graces
You say hi and I say bye
You say hey, I always turn away
When we do talk it's like a final call
Pushing away as it gets cold
We don't converse anymore because of me
I can't help you sometimes give me the creeps
It doesn't matter because the final call is here
Calling me away from it all
Second chances doesn't happen to me
If you see this please do not mourn for me
It's the Final Call.

"My Past, My Future", by Litany Lineberry

I live the life my ancestors fought hard for

Getting whipped, going free

through the

underground railroad
I grew up with my parents telling me my past will help pave my future
It is unfair that I have to live the DREAM
But through my eyes I hope you can see your hard work pay off
We are free, free to have property, and work our own land, free to have an education that will lead us to ressurection in America
I wish Harriet Tubman was here to see that she led the way to open doors to Obama to be president one day
I wish Malcolm X was here today to see black people unified and taking back our soul
My future is clear and like Martin's dream I hope to survive with equality knocking at my door
Martin looked over the mountaintop
But as for me I want to go over the mountain before I die
Because my past is my future and like Maya Angelou STILL I RISE!!!

Ciliary Body, by Tamara Miles

My inner body is as unknown to me
As the plains of Africa,

Its hills and valleys, crevices
Where mountain lions lie in wait
For the immune system to grow weary
And falter.

The bobcat’s tail swings in anticipation.
The jaguar emerges from his nap.
All the cats set to pounce, to kill.
Deep in the night, I cannot rest for fear
They will smell me, they will leap.
My fingers clinch.

I try to think instead of mountain goats,
High, out of reach, sturdy on their feet.
Itinerant. Joyful.

But the king of beasts lazily
Moves toward me, not slouching toward
Bethlehem after all, not to be born
But to slay my paralyzed cells.
He is not to be tamed.

I am humbled by these felines,
Vaguely honored, in fact,
To be eaten nearly alive,
Neck snapped, spinal cord useless,
Vertebrae scattered.

Behind the iris, I wait for those dry, yellow days.

Where I Am Now, by Karen Buckman

I am courageous and free.

I wonder where I will be.

I hear the crowd roar.

I see a mighty eagle.

I want to enrich the lives of others.

I am courageous and free.

I pretend to soar.

I feel that each and everyday is custom-made for me.

I touch success.

I worry that sometimes I am not at my best.

I cry for others who aren’t as enthusiastic as me.

I am courageous and free.

I understand life.

I say live and let live.

I dream of abundance of health and wealth.

I try to always improve myself .

I hope that happiness and success is destined to be.

I am courageous and free.

Where Was I, by Kayla Mullins

Where was I

I wish I knew

My body

I’ve been told it was there

Lungs pumped with oxygen

My heart beat in rhythm

But my soul

The person that I am

Where was I

The world changed

But I slept through

The civil rights movement

Changed the nation

Martin Luther King, Jr. dreamed

And I dreamed too

But divisions continued

Violence in Orangeburg

But I was at peace

Kennedy

The Cold War

And Space Program

We saw the moon

But what did I see

Where was I

Nixon, Vietnam

People died in war

Was I dead inside?

Transition, New World Order

Reagan, Carter, Bush

Things changed

My body aged

New hope

In each sign of life

Slowly awakening

To a new day

In 1990

Where was I

I missed so much change

It is like I wasn’t even here at all

Like I was not even born yet