In The Night
-K. Marshall 2-27-08
In the night, as we sleep, you hear rain against the window, and thunder rattling against the walls.
In the night, an uninvited guest comes into my aunt’s house with anger and rage.
In the night, I hear bumping against the wall—this time it didn’t sound like thunder.
In the night, I hear my cousins scream, so out of the bed I ran to them.
In the night, her ex-husband pulls her of the bed, as she kicks and screams.
In the night, he hits her and beats her then stops….he shoots her, as we watch.
In the night we sit outside on the curb holding each other waiting for someone to come, not a word was said as the tears flowed from our faces.
In the night, the police showed up with our parents.
In the night is when this all took place.
-K. Marshall 2-27-08
In the night, as we sleep, you hear rain against the window, and thunder rattling against the walls.
In the night, an uninvited guest comes into my aunt’s house with anger and rage.
In the night, I hear bumping against the wall—this time it didn’t sound like thunder.
In the night, I hear my cousins scream, so out of the bed I ran to them.
In the night, her ex-husband pulls her of the bed, as she kicks and screams.
In the night, he hits her and beats her then stops….he shoots her, as we watch.
In the night we sit outside on the curb holding each other waiting for someone to come, not a word was said as the tears flowed from our faces.
In the night, the police showed up with our parents.
In the night is when this all took place.
Grandma’s Hands
by Marnique Wesley
Hers were the kind that made you feel safe
In the midst of a scary rain storm
The kind you ran from
When you were told
“Go Git Me A Switch”
Loving ones that cleaned up
The worst scraped knee
And patched you up after
Accidental falls
From high-up trees.
The kind that baked every pie known to man
The kind that made a fuss at the sink
While washing your hair after playing in the sand…
Those memories I recall so well
Saturday morning clean-up chores
The hottest water ever
Mixed with
The strongest bleach smell
Summers at the neighborhood pool
Jumping in and out of the shallow end
Made me think I was cool
I couldn’t swim tho…
She called me a fool
Water covered my head one summer day
The shallow end
Seemed much too far away
Panic took me over
Just then…
I was seized.
Saved.
By Grandma’s Hands.
by Marnique Wesley
Hers were the kind that made you feel safe
In the midst of a scary rain storm
The kind you ran from
When you were told
“Go Git Me A Switch”
Loving ones that cleaned up
The worst scraped knee
And patched you up after
Accidental falls
From high-up trees.
The kind that baked every pie known to man
The kind that made a fuss at the sink
While washing your hair after playing in the sand…
Those memories I recall so well
Saturday morning clean-up chores
The hottest water ever
Mixed with
The strongest bleach smell
Summers at the neighborhood pool
Jumping in and out of the shallow end
Made me think I was cool
I couldn’t swim tho…
She called me a fool
Water covered my head one summer day
The shallow end
Seemed much too far away
Panic took me over
Just then…
I was seized.
Saved.
By Grandma’s Hands.
by Krystle Marshall
In one month my brother will be coming home.
Back in 1999 my brother got shot in the head, and that’s when the doctor said, “it went straight though your head”.
In the middle of the night I heard a scream, my mom had got the news.
The next day my mom was on her way down to Texas, and before she could make it my brother was back in the streets.
I knew that the game was deep the streets were steep and the sky seemed gray and he thought there would never be a brighter day; that he could not walkout as easy as he walked into the game.
You see when the bullet went though his head it only missed his brain by an inch, and
He could have gone blind.
My Mom and I told him that he needed slow down and this was a sign from God.
The next month he was set up-caught up and locked up.
Seven years of his life was taken.
Now he has another chance at life, next month my brother will be home.
When I call my Momma
by Coker George
Momma, Momma, are you up?
Momma, Momma, are you still sleep?
Momma, Momma, are you gonna get up?
Momma, Momma, are you still tired?
Momma, Momma, do you want me to let you sleep?
Momma, Momma, are you gonna ever get up?
Momma, Momma, do you love me?
Momma, Momma, ain’t I your favorite?
Momma, Momma I love you.
The comfort of momma voice always brings joys.
Cause when you call momma, momma, she always responds.
Momma, Momma, are you up?
Momma, Momma, are you still sleep?
Momma, Momma, are you gonna get up?
Momma, Momma, are you still tired?
Momma, Momma, do you want me to let you sleep?
Momma, Momma, are you gonna ever get up?
Momma, Momma, do you love me?
Momma, Momma, ain’t I your favorite?
Momma, Momma I love you.
The comfort of momma voice always brings joys.
Cause when you call momma, momma, she always responds.
No comments:
Post a Comment