activism, african american fathers, african american mothers, Drawing, encouragement, family, fatherhood, Fiction, Grandmother, literature, parenthood, Uncategorized

Internally Struggling (Friday Night Poetry Corner #187)

Samantha Keely Smith
samanthakeelysmith.com

 

 

Good evening everyone and welcome to another Friday Night Poetry Corner. This week, this fantastic poet name Kristen Early has a sensual joint that I know y’all will enjoy. It’s called “Internally Struggling.”  Please visit her blog and read more of her good work!

Headwraps & Durags

Silence is not golden.

It gives my mind the confidence it needs to wander,

Wander to uncharted lands, 

Wander into the deepest, darkest depths

and leave me stranded at sea.

Silence is dangerous.

It awakens all kinds of demons.

Demons of doubt and concern

Ideas so irrational when spoken aloud 

yet real enough to let the anxiety set in.

Silence is a blank canvas.

It lets my thoughts paint their own picture of reality.

Its a slippery slope of fear that constantly sends my head in a spin.

I push out the silence with any and everything.

Music, keep it blaring through the night.

Alcohol, I hold my shot glass tight.

Fill it up, fill it up, until my mind goes numb.

Sex, the physical penetration distracts from my mind’s overstimulation.

It’s hard to freak out when each stroke let’s the freak out. 

Don’t walk away.

Bring…

View original post 83 more words

activism, dark fiction, dark poems, dark poetry, dark writing, Fiction, freedom, K.G. Bethlehem, life, literature, love, poems, poetry, Uncategorized, writer, writing

Relapse (Friday Night Poetry Corner #184)

Manila: My City at War | Ayala Museum
Ayala Museum
“Now but a valley of shudders was Manila, where the famine had become visible as bloated bodies collapsed on the sidewalks.”

 

 

Good evening ladies and gentleman and welcome to another Friday Night Poetry Corner. This week will be about me! Well, my poem at least. This is an older joint I wrote back in 2002 called “Relapse, a killa among men.” The voice in this could be recognizable to some in different parts of their life, as a welcoming thought or a reminder of something horrible.

It’s up to your own imagination. Thanks again for stopping by.

 

 

Relapse
(a killa’ among men)

rotten alliance I
believed called
KAM
dangerous acts preceding
others…
you asked for excitement
and received, KAM
craving for attention,
suitable compliance.
I see,
naw, you conceived
the egoism of
society, but still
sought for
KAM

whirlwind
by breeze
upfront
waterspout
to rainfall
doubt
trouble ground
shakes
prolonged light
fight sheet storms
of landslide pawns,
in spirit is
KAM

you adore wonders, without
insight of its
origins…

Who is KAM?
Certain leaders who grin
and speak with no honor?

Naive masses
cries “whatever”
souljahs gripe for meaning beyond
the information war.

hands in Bushes
marvels
the WAR.

 

                                                                                By K.G. Bethlehem

`

activism, children, life, literature, Uncategorized, writer, writing

The Children (Friday Night Poetry Corner #183)

Manchester Safeguarding Children Board – Manchester Safeguarding …
Manchester Safeguarding Boards

 

 

Good evening everyone and welcome again to another Friday Night Poetry Corner. This week, this poem is talking about our children in a working society. This message needs to be heard and understood, there isn’t any excuse to not to read. The name of this poem is called “The Children” written by strugglinglife. I know you will enjoy this work and when you have time, stop by her page for a few to read more of her wonderful work.

thefamilysoul

This poem is dedicated to the innocent lives of young children lost, in an era where their perpetrators are those close to them. Whilst government mulls about increasing the protection of the innocent, this poem highlights their insecurities and the loss of those who have gone too soon. 

They come to play,

They come to play

A shaded game of hues in hurt,

They play and play,

Like children discovering a new trend

Lessons unknown,

They do not listen…listen…listen

The velvet hurt, begins to flow.

When does it end, does it at all

They say it’s a game, you know

Hush…hush…be it not so

View original post