Black Poetry : The Remains

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE, Jan 5, 2014.

  1. BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE

    BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE Nefertum Husia Shayheh MEMBER

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    You,
    took her or him,
    away from me,
    left me with,
    unspeakable,
    pain,
    I took in your,
    daughter as my own,
    my heart that is,
    a real tribe that is,
    you said you are a mother,
    teaching young ones,
    we had state jobs,
    we both worked,
    african hard,
    I traveled miles,
    to see us living together,
    help paid your bills,
    to prove my worth,
    to you and fore myself,
    I planned our family,
    I was there physically,
    I never cheated,
    never the thought of it,
    your past came back,
    replaced me but I did not,
    hurt you one bit,
    or even resemble those,
    memories you kept,
    I was there mentally,
    keeping us aware,
    and protected as one,
    I was there emotionally,
    when you cried,
    even took on your side,
    without hesitation,
    I was there soulfully,
    always sharing aspects,
    with your neighbor’s kids,
    helping them feel at ease,
    bringing together a village,
    who were just individuals,
    your neighbor only cooked,
    once for me out of thanks,
    for helping her sons be males,
    outside and getting exercise,
    being brothers with others,
    from other mothers,
    you did not care,
    always jealous and envy,
    had the nerve to police me,
    but I had no time to be guilty,
    and you knew it so your last attempt,
    was to create a notion far beyond reach,
    asked your previous sex girlfriend,
    to breach our bond we had sealed,
    you didn’t even know I had a ring,
    I took my time for us as family,
    to try and finalize a brand new home,
    put you on my insurance,
    I carry the burden of hard times,
    you just get prepared to teach,
    our children at home and be Queen,
    we went over this without argument,
    got along with your whole family,
    I met you at first sight,
    and you knew we were heaven sent,
    but you turned your back on me,
    dug into your past and evil witch’s bag,
    I didn’t fall for the affair,
    though I cried to myself after you did,
    everybody got along but you,
    flipping at me fore no reason,
    again it was jealousy and envy,
    you never had a father,
    to do like I did for yours,
    I bought a whole year,
    in advance of clothing,
    for her plus worked with her,
    about her studies and we grew,
    closer with each passing day,
    we shared the same music,
    of jazz, blues and symphony,
    you were wrong to me,
    black woman…
    I never did anything wrong,
    but love you strong,
    loved you more than you,
    loved yourself and encouraged,
    you to step up with confidence,
    not sabotage…
    you thought I was the joke,
    while with you in the end,
    sow so many reasons,
    why I stayed confused,
    of why you did,
    abort our child,
    asked me for money,
    to help the process,
    you had to be crazy,
    I wouldn’t aide you in killing,
    my baby too…
    regardless of the call,
    I made to you afterward,
    thinking when the years,
    went bye she was just venting,
    the baby was due on dec 25th,
    i remembered but your text,
    the picture screen message,
    of the abortion date signed differed,
    image burned into my head,
    I can’t do nothing about it,
    I had already told my family,
    everybody was excited,
    on all sides of the tree,
    my first child as a black man,
    happy as can be…
    but you stole that moment,
    in time and space away from me,
    like a gap that will never be filled,
    never ever again as trust is privileged,
    and comes harder to gain with each breath,
    you ran off and married somebody,
    who cheated on you,
    drained your bank account,
    treated your child not like I,
    I felt your tears and voice,
    from over the phone,
    regardless if you did right or wrong,
    don’t you know I remembered,
    your name and mother’s name too?
    Just thinking about it,
    just maybe she didn’t,
    cause she is a black female,
    she wouldn’t do that,
    she knows about life,
    please higher powers,
    help heal her cause I could not,
    and when I called…
    I heard your mother’s voice,
    I asked the question,
    she preferred me to you,
    I guess she did not want to answer it,
    I felt it and knew it,
    but I needed confirmation,
    you may have cried in tears,
    asking fore forgiveness,
    and I even tried to get back,
    with you out of the understanding,
    of pain and oppression,
    the secrets you told me,
    I will never know if they are real,
    but at that time I did not question them,
    still you have the nerve,
    to be that same person…
    you deserve no pity,
    even after playing the same games,
    on me years later,
    you need healing like i do,
    you are not a black man lover,
    a dear wife and true Queen,
    you are a good black man killer,
    an emotional rapist,
    and I hope your daughter,
    grows up separate from,
    your tree of death.

    Copyright “Diary of a Black Man: Tri Ba Model and Geometry” 2014 by Nefertum Husia Shayheh
     
  2. BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE

    BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE Nefertum Husia Shayheh MEMBER

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    Momma,
    you remember,
    that time,
    when me and sister,
    stood side by side,
    outside in the yard,
    sunny day,
    you bent down,
    and asked us,
    did we trust him?
    I spoke up,
    quickly,
    and said,
    something wasn't,
    right about that man,
    your face had no expression,
    you turned to sister,
    she replied with,
    however you felt,
    you smiled then,
    stood back up...
    right then and there,
    i knew as a young black male,
    your black child,
    i had no voice.
    I always wondered,
    why momma told me,
    to lie to my own father,
    i always went to the door,
    he live in the country,
    she didn't have no guts,
    meaning momma and sister,
    always the son take the fall,
    maybe i reminded momma,
    of him after thinking about it,
    all these years...
    i remembered those looks,
    i will never forget them,
    and sometime i would,
    just stay to myself,
    or just hang outside,
    with the other kids,
    i quickly learned not to ask,
    momma for many things,
    i got smarter in school,
    even though teachers,
    were not fair to an extent,
    well a few of them,
    that's another story,
    but all the abuse,
    from that man you loved,
    on your son and yourself,
    he never abuse sister like that,
    beat momma up,
    the room would shake,
    i would never know,
    what really happened,
    i remember guns in my face,
    from him and those looks,
    looks of a killer stare,
    the threats if i revealed anything,
    to anyone about were me and him,
    were going though often momma knew,
    she knew something,
    and so did the neighborhood too,
    too much to tell...
    Momma,
    do you know,
    how it feels,
    to be around family,
    people unknown,
    and known,
    just to be talking,
    to them and smiling,
    cause i didn't know them?
    You alienated me and sister,
    from a whole entire tree,
    of family plus had them,
    in fear for over twenty,
    something years if they did,
    contact us...
    do you know,
    how it feels,
    after those twenty,
    something years,
    a couple attempts,
    of suicide due to,
    not understanding,
    my life without no father,
    he didn't want to see me,
    or my sister like that,
    cause of you?
    I don't want,
    your love momma,
    momma your love kills,
    and to think i almost,
    sacrificed my life before,
    that man who pumped,
    the 12 gauge at my dome,
    after fighting him off of you,
    just for you to say you staying,
    with him and let me walk,
    out that same door you owned,
    reminds me of those times,
    you would let me out,
    the door alone to go,
    and see my father and family members,
    who truly knew i didn't come,
    there for no money at all,
    when you were living lavish so called,
    and he was struggling with grandpa,
    cause grandpa had ole timers,
    but you picked at they situation too,
    not knowing why father stayed,
    with his parents cause grandma,
    and my bigger female cousin,
    could not handle it sometimes,
    see they stuck together,
    and always did love me,
    but me and my father,
    i try to understand us,
    even his past might have,
    been bad or good though,
    i will never know but,
    i do know for a fact,
    you turn me against,
    my whole otherside of the tree,
    and now my sister,
    got my niece in the same path,
    like you...a heartless black woman,
    who is indeed a hyprocrite,
    got everybody fooled,
    but your son that stays distant,
    knows the truth and your emotional pull,
    is over...
    you may have drained my pockets,
    while in the military to an extent,
    and my credit through power of attorney,
    but i bounced back everytime,
    even when i begged you to help me,
    you left me stranded,
    but i'm not helping yall no more,
    cause we ain't family,
    naw we are just a bunch of individuals,
    as blood as you and her have yall ways,
    lost in the american way,
    and i have my way from the beginning,
    which is original people's way,
    though i wish everything was all peace,
    cause i still see the same process,
    i went through as a child,
    now with others leaving them,
    stranded on the streets,
    with no where to go,
    no sense of direction in society,
    on they way to the grave,
    or behind bars sentence periods,
    at a time and it ain't hard to tell,
    that you hate me cause of your,
    anger towards your past,
    reversing out on me as if,
    i am the dummy and crazy,
    like nothing of what you did,
    never exist but my memories,
    and family members who know,
    will always remember,
    and that is why you stay hidden,
    from everybody you did wrong,
    i will not be your personal gun anymore,
    nor for my sister as she did me wrong too,
    and my aunt to an extent,
    see i was naive to my female members,
    closest to me since i was kid,
    as i never really had male role models,
    i had to find myself during all my travels,
    alone in this world as it turned,
    now you know where most of the anger,
    comes from momma...
    you gave it to me by the doses,
    covering it up hoping i wouldn't,
    notice it later through your brainwashing,
    i survived it before killing someone on your,
    behalf as many of times without hesitation,
    i would have...
    momma you need healing,
    but i tell you i did not hurt,
    you when i was born or deserve,
    your motherly kind of love,
    as it was twisted now i think,
    about it healing myself,
    trying to rid the memories,
    or at least escape into a place,
    of solitude which is my own land,
    i hope my niece does not grow up,
    like you and my sister.

    Copyright “Diary of a Black Man: Tri Ba Model and Geometry” 2014 by Nefertum Husia Shayheh
     
  3. BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE

    BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE Nefertum Husia Shayheh MEMBER

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    Black woman,
    remember,
    when we was friends,
    as kids from grade school?
    When i thought you up,
    a few years ago,
    remembered how you looked,
    when we were nappy heads and dirty sneakers,
    laughing with your hair flying stuck up,
    you were still beautiful to me.
    Now when we got together,
    after i searched you up,
    we talked like yesterday,
    was never and tomorrow never came,
    in a time lapsed zone in our bubble,
    just miles away too around the hometown,
    then we met up kind of nervous,
    grown you with grown me,
    surprises and wows,
    whoa wait-a-minute,
    oh we hugging undercovers,
    smoking cigarettes bucket naked,
    drinking wine by the lampstand,
    at that hotel filled up from,
    waffle house while your five kids,
    stayed home with your mother,
    i said don't worry black superman,
    got the fixed and we going places,
    since we know each other and all,
    from back in the days,
    i trusted you without a doubt...
    Dayum you took me for a twist,
    just like all the others,
    but i truly did not expect this,
    not from you...
    loss my truck driving job,
    you just kept on calling my cell,
    i couldn't be in two places at once,
    i can't tell you my every thoughts,
    oh so you going to call up,
    another dude to get me fired up,
    for no reason?
    You even admitted,
    after getting beat down,
    to near death by another guy,
    that in order for me and you,
    to come closer or you just stop,
    the bullcrap of the push and pull,
    that i would have to just beat you,
    and when you said that and hung up,
    the phone that night i immediately,
    rushed to your place to get my phone back,
    but i didn't want it back i just wanted,
    to see your face like she is really damaged,
    and how can i fixed her?
    I couldn't...the bottom line is,
    i couldn't and that hurt me even more,
    no matter how much poetry and sex,
    phone conversations and near insomnia,
    plus after i moved you into that home,
    for rent on my name getting along swell,
    with your kids going to the parks,
    just natural bonding being me,
    all heart forward brains from a loving,
    young black man...
    you turned your back on me too,
    but you thought i would beg that night,
    for the key back though i knew,
    i knew what time it was cause even,
    that lady who rented us the home,
    had gave me a call back out of concern,
    but it didn't hit me until i spent,
    all my previous paycheck,
    you kept your side money,
    you wasn't going to help me get no job,
    so i had other ways of getting one up there,
    but instead i just walked away,
    out of your presence in the rain,
    that night down the main road,
    cold and alone fifteen miles,
    into a hotel and thank goodness,
    i had my credit card on me,
    you picked at me about being a punk,
    asking where i was for weeks,
    finally breaking down texting to calling,
    talking about you love me,
    but how you love me,
    when about two hundred other dudes,
    on a website loves you too?
    Geah you slipped up,
    and didn't erase everything on,
    the phone i gave you,
    cause i wasn't no way concern,
    about tracking you as i respected you,
    and you never respected my phone,
    or website of poetry even though,
    i offered me and you to do a book,
    together though you rather,
    talk and web to other people and not,
    be together about business for ourselves...
    not being naive you see but anyway,
    i just so happened to get on the phone browser,
    to check my bank statements,
    and what do you know,
    look who was posted with a bra on,
    finger in her lips and hair tightly done up,
    will all the comments of sexual explicitness,
    though your comments was missing...
    and you said you was playing games,
    guess in the end all is revealed,
    one way or another,
    but thanks for introducing me,
    to another cousin on my father's side,
    who was your best friend supposedly,
    trifling.

    Copyright “Diary of a Black Man: Tri Ba Model and Geometry” 2014 by Nefertum Husia Shayheh
     
  4. BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE

    BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE Nefertum Husia Shayheh MEMBER

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    Why you stalked me?
    I know you being,
    an european in all,
    and me being black,
    military at that time,
    was a real experience,
    of finally going somewhere,
    but Blonde woman,
    why you get your friends,
    to follow me everytime,
    i went to work?
    You followed me to the club,
    who cares if the sex,
    was like that and this,
    had your friends asking,
    if i had any friends,
    looking at me up and down,
    blushing and stuff...
    when you in a country,
    predominately blondes,
    brunettes, redheads,
    and few curly peas,
    you just roll with their mother's genes,
    seriously and she had them,
    after researching we found out,
    and i was like wow but being so young,
    in knowledge it would make sense,
    anyway as Africa is just right there,
    but what got to me about europeans,
    is that when i went out on dates,
    with them they would always express,
    how our babies would turn out extra special,
    and the most beautiful babies ever,
    with the curly hair of blonde and black,
    and she wanted to get super black in spirit,
    or whatever she felt and they would try too,
    and even offered me to go to Africa with them,
    now i would have to say at least they offered,
    while the black females i never heard them,
    even speak it out their mouths,
    and it's a reason for it too,
    but the blonde female finally put me there,
    when we was posing in the mirror,
    on the wall in front of her entrance way,
    hugged up cheek to cheek and felt really strange,
    but she kept smiling then busted out with,
    we going to have the best babies ever,
    dimples and all mixed kids,
    i'm going to be the proudest mother,
    to our black babies...
    then her words hit me hard,
    and i woke up like this is a fantasy,
    i was really into her for the scholar reasoning,
    cause she had brains just like me,
    and i don't do standards but my intuition,
    always tells me what i need to know and feel,
    and just like over there in the United Kingdom,
    it is the same chit over here sailing just slightly,
    different of course cause either you poor or rich,
    nothing in between though Germany is totally different,
    that's another story and Ireland is cool,
    but i never figured it out why the black attack,
    or should i say fiends of black wanted babies,
    until i figured out the welfare system over there,
    so yes they use black babies for a meal ticket and housing,
    you live and you learn and by myself is ultimately good,
    women in general have they own agenda,
    and there is no way of telling who is who no more,
    you either keep rolling the dice as a black man,
    or just get your stuff and move to Africa,
    convert your currency and live like a King,
    or just find yourself and live alone,
    cause after all living alone ain't so bad,
    especially if you can not see any government,
    buildings and cars plus the city lights...
    that's just me of course,
    choose your heart to experience the ride,
    i ain't going back cause i rather have roses and clay,
    sculpture me a beautiful original woman by the week,
    write her a piece of poetry,
    roll it up to put it in her hands,
    and store her away in my building,
    called the army of Queens...
    geah i got the baddest ones on the planet my ninja!
    And they listen to me plus they got names,
    everybody will remember with of course their,
    beauty unsurpassing and they are priceless you see,
    you can't buy these Queens or touch them,
    or get five feet within they range,
    we don't need your breaths!
    I can hear me say....

    Copyright “Diary of a Black Man: Tri Ba Model and Geometry” 2014 by Nefertum Husia Shayheh
     
  5. BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE

    BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE Nefertum Husia Shayheh MEMBER

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    Remember Brother,
    that time dear kinfolk,
    when i was standing,
    in the asian chicken shack,
    along the alleyway in,
    Cambridgeshire?
    You spoke,
    like an African,
    stood tall and warrior,
    like an African,
    but had a european woman,
    on your arms,
    i was in line,
    in front of you,
    getting my delicious,
    greasy chicken,
    minus the hot and spicy,
    homemade sauce,
    and you told,
    the middle eastern guy,
    who knew me well,
    that only Africans,
    loves hot and spiciness,
    and he despise an imposter,
    i was about five foot seven inches,
    the same still today,
    now the reason why,
    i told the middle eastern guy,
    to hold it was cause i just didn't want it,
    it was my choice at the time,
    though i been getting it,
    hanging with the Jamaicans,
    jerking me with they spices,
    i couldn't help but to increase,
    my flavorniods...
    the brother who was six foot three inches,
    had the nerve to say,
    he don't like me right?
    and then said i wasn't African,
    i don't speak it or look it,
    even his european girl,
    said she couldn't tell,
    and told him to please stop it,
    yall distant family and stop,
    being a bully...
    i stood my ground and told him,
    the bigger they are the harder they fall,
    cause i don't rage fight,
    i use my head so he tried,
    to push her out the way,
    as she held him back supposedly,
    the east asian guy called the bobbies,
    and told me he is sorry but i am african too,
    don't let people like that get you down,
    or tell you what to do,
    i looked dead into his eyes,
    as i walked past with free chicken,
    slowly...
    the european woman said she was sorry,
    and the so called brother said something,
    in his language or suppose to be mine,
    but his tone and pitches definitely meant harm,
    i told the brothers,
    who were Jamaicans living in london about this,
    and they laughed but indeed told me to watch my back,
    some are bitter due to the same slave stuff,
    they like to show they power but are hypocrites,
    to they own shadow...
    i told him man it's like that over here in the America,
    brothers still banging over colors and we black,
    underneath and others are politicians while some are rich,
    thinking they are better than us,
    as if they are highly visible made as rich chocolate,
    man i still go through it sometimes even today,
    no religion or politics will not bring us together,
    it will take more than the heavens to solve the problems,
    as those solutions been in play before i was born,
    just check the leaders and they books...
    and I was there just getting a piece of chicken,
    like usual minding my own business and trouble found me,
    in the form of my distant brother...sometime i wonder.

    Copyright “Diary of a Black Man: Tri Ba Model and Geometry” 2014 by Nefertum Husia Shayheh
     
  6. BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE

    BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE Nefertum Husia Shayheh MEMBER

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    I always been more honest,
    and sincere with some black females,
    from the islands and africa,
    reason being i knew i could be,
    myself,
    though some still today,
    dodge me out of me being stereotyped,
    though i never understood,
    this so called skin color association,
    words that don't mean nothing,
    ultimately,
    when in the beginning,
    and ending of the days with nights,
    i walked up to a muslim black female,
    wanting to just get a better understanding,
    of me and the culture but with no avail,
    as she quickly started to talk in her language,
    but you in San Diego California,
    where internationally it is known,
    for its diverse and rich culture of the world,
    sometimes it be like that and you just,
    keep moving...
    same thing happen to me there also,
    while there were a bunch of african females,
    straight from africa talking english from a distant,
    and i heard them while at that huge outlet,
    where the rolexes and all that name brand stuff is,
    i rode the trolley up there from station to station,
    the sistahs wore modernized wear with braids in all,
    and i approached looking casual,
    trying to befriend out of respect,
    and trying to fit in while in San Diego,
    with my kind right?
    They were about seven to eight females deep,
    standing and some where sitting,
    automatically one started to whisper,
    i could not understand they language,
    and i knew what time it was still i tried,
    i told them i didn't come for a hook-up,
    or any kind of sexual relation,
    i saw you all and found my people,
    can we walk and talk somewhere,
    the food is on me??
    They laughed while some picked up,
    their pocketbooks and one spoke as the leader,
    and said we going somewhere else,
    sorry we can't help you go find somebody else,
    and they left laughing walking off often,
    looking back still laughing walking casual,
    I did not understand it at all,
    as a hispanic female said the same thing,
    and understood and felt my pain with confusion,
    after they did that cause i was truly sincere,
    and remembered those times with those,
    sistahs from the islands i use to spend time,
    with while in London and D.C. with the brothas too,
    so over the years i have been living my life,
    under camo just observing and going back,
    to africa has just always crossed my mind,
    since i was a kid but now just for a visit,
    i will be a visitor and not a relative,
    i have no home on earth but true peace and freedom,
    that is i when i die again though permanently,
    i have my experiences which earned me wisdom,
    i feel like a stranger sometimes,
    within my own skin,
    after matching up my skin to theirs,
    and seeing much revelation before my eyes,
    and being in touch with lies often weighing heavier than truth,
    i've accepted my truths and will remain,
    a spiritual being climbing better than his last times.

    Copyright “Diary of a Black Man: Tri Ba Model and Geometry” 2014 by Nefertum Husia Shayheh
     
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