Her smile. Etched deeply into precious impressions on my heart.
Her smile. So breathtakingly beautiful I am often overwhelmed.
Her smile. Connecting and stretching up to her eyes display her sincerity.
Her smile. Others say she has my smile and my heart giggles deep down.
Her smile. Sweeter than the bees’ nectar draws you to her.
Her smile. Reveals the very essence of her meek tenderness.
Her smile. I close my eyes and allow my mind to replay a movie that celebrates moments my child smiled.
Her smile. As our eyes lock, I hope she understands the depth of my utter adoration.
Her smile. Motivates me to joyously endure another day of this solitude.
Her smile. Captivates and consumes my daily thoughts.
Her smile. That delightful dimple. Need I say more?
Her smile. Me in it. Him in it. Mixed together by the fingers of my God to create the apple of my eye.
Her smile. Utterly in credible. Extremely unforgettable. Simply divine.
Her smile make me smile. What else could be more beautiful?
To hear one’s voice express love is a blessing incomparable to any other expression.
To hear one’s voice express hate cuts deeper than any two-edged sword.
To hear my son’s voice after one year of silence brings me to my knees physically and emotionally.
The timbre of his voice is deeper now as he changes from boy to man, but I still hear him call me Mommy, and I suddenly become engulfed with that powerful love that I felt when I first conceived him.
To hear his voice waver with emotion overwhelmed me to the depth of my soul. While not being able to speak, my tears and gasps for air communicate millions of emotions, words that do not need to be spoken as I listen to my son’s voice.
I can’t get back these hundreds of days I didn’t hear his voice, but I choose to re-live his words, “I love you, Mommy,” as my heart aches and celebrates at the same time.
That ONE voice. So precious. So valuable. His ONE voice. So completes me.
to a place I’ve never been. Somewhere tropical, not too hot. Somewhere where I can freely be me. A place where there’s no pain and no more tears. I’d lay comfortable, in nakedness on the sand without the fear of judging eyes. I’d walk in confidence along the shore and feel the light breezes on my skin. I’d swim through the waters with the embrace of peace overwhelming all senses. I’d stare off into the distant sky, and use my eyes to draw pictures in the clouds. This place would be my safe haven away from all things evil and upsetting in the world. My road trip would be one like to other.
We run to the park on a hot summer day
for I know she won’t want to leave
but sure enough like to stay
We roll around in the grass, then start
to scratch and itch for it too will pass
She climbs the stairs and goes down
the slide. I can’t help but smile as
I watch as she goes to the swings
and yells, “Push me, Mommy!”
After the swings, we play with a ball,
throwing it back and forth
As the sun goes down, on the way
home, my daughter says she has had
fun. I pick her up and give her a
big hug and kiss.
I spent my summer in long sleeves
Trying to hide myself
from the ones I love
I’d sit in parked cars
with bills folded in my palm
I dropped out of life
for the third time in a decade
and I tried to cut my losses
before the rats cut my throat
People have different interpretations of what a legend is. Some say it’s an old myth. Some even say it’s a story passed down. Well, I actually don’t really know. All I know is I’m gon’ be my own LEGEND!
Not the ones of mythical adventures like Tarzan or King Kong. More like Miss Jane Pittman or probably Lena Horne. Betta yet, more like Ms. Maya Angelou. Yea, that’s it!
I could put my own twist on it. I could become this famous writer/poet and travel all around the globe signing autographs; speak publicly at White House dinners. I could tell my OWN STORY! Sit beside the Obamas and tell them how I got this far through it all. I could open up my own colleges and schools and be remembered as THE ONE! Shit…I might get my own holiday. LOL.
But I can guarantee you this: Everybody’s gon’ know my name and remember me like a LEGEND!
I am a daddy’s girl, even though he’s long gone. Died when I was only ten. But the memories I still hold to this day will never leave my mind. He named me, you know. I wonder what was he thinking when he came up with it. I’ll never know cause he’s gone.
The last memory I remember was shortly before he died. He said, “Shariff, I’m coming to see you and your brother for Easter.” So I watched and waited for him to come every day. Every car that pulled up I thought it was my daddy. He never came. My grandmother told me he had passed and was cremated. I was devastated.
I cried because I wanted him to tell me everything will be all right. That he didn’t mean to give me and my brother up. That he was going to rescue us and take us back home.
But if I could speak to him now I would tell him that I miss him and love him and thank him for sending me and my brother to Virginia. He was definitely thinking about his babies’ future.
Step by step, how hard and so
easy at the same time. Why
can’t I at least make one? You
know what? I need to stop beating
myself up! I am making steps.
Positive steps! I am coming to
class instead of being in the
block. I am making steps to rebuild
my relationships with my children
and family. I am also making steps
for my future beyond these walls.
They say, take one day at a time.
I say, take one step at a time. Even if they’re
and life doesn’t wait for me
I’m at the starting line
They fire a shot into the air
and I freeze
When I try to move
with cement blocks
tied to my ankles
I watch everyone else
as they triumphantly sprint
towards the finish
chests puffed out as they cross the line
But here I am
stuck at the start
because I hesitate