It’s a boy.
That puppy love brought forth a boy, Junior. He was the first child and the first son. He will be a junior.
and there were tears. soft cries of joy.
and Junior was ambitious. he climbed for freedom from his playpen and the security gate / he had his father’s eyes. Junior
and his father’s hefty build. shoulders, a parallel span to the sky.
and speaking of skies, Junior told his father with a trembling voice,
he saw “Satan chasing the angel and the angel running into the face of God”
and his father chuckled until he saw the picture sent from his son’s cellphone. then he believed him /
Continue reading he Howled / no cry (a prose)
Allow me to introduce Lesley McSpadden and Michael Brown Sr., the parents of the unarmed young man gunned down in Ferguson, Mo. in August, Michael Brown Jr. aka Mike Brown.
The images from this tragic incident have quite powerfully paralleled to that of images from the civil rights movement. Images from all over the world that prompted political attention and involvement from communities in Mexico to parts of China. In my opinion, some of the most significant photographs came from colleges and universities that participated in the “Don’t Shoot”
Continue reading Political Focus in college SGA and BSU
The media has moved on to something else. The murder of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Mo. is now old news and the country is in an uproar over Nick and Mariah getting divorced and Ebola making its’ way into the states. Just like the country was in nation wide support and rallies for the “Bring Back Our Girls” distress from Nigeria, we have now obeyed the media and moved our emotions elsewhere. But this little town in Missouri has vowed NOT to be satisfied with being told, “justice will be served.” No, not this town! While we sleep, they take shifts and keep the city officials on their toes with protests and sustained organizing until they can speak in past tense, “justice has been served.”
Continue reading Ferguson: no longer important?; Still Very Potent
They look like my cousins. One of them could be my brothers friend. In the back they have my nephew and his friends. See, this mess won’t reach the homes where their families are. They will have to get through the front line first and then the young and strong before they get to Big Momma’s house. And we have the babies in bed so it’s on and popping when your big toe hits the front lawn.
This picture is not intimidating. I wouldn’t clutch my purse as I walked past them. This picture shows them on the same side. The side that we sometimes forget we have the common interest in…Justice.
it’s not a feeling. it’s more like a sting. I don’t believe a sting is a feeling, it’s more like an impulse. a flicker or tease of a taste.
and the taste is a jar of honey left open during the month of August. it has remnants of sweetness but only the frame provides certainty it was honey. only the map can assure us it used to be a quiet suburb of st. louis. the city of ferguson, missouri. which is the sister city to sanford, florida and detroit and atlanta and chicago and new york and… and.
the city connects corners of churches to grocery stores and movie theaters to court houses. there are miles of studied architecture on houses of bungalow, cottage and manor homes that are primly arranged around squares of cemeteries. and the neighborhood has picked up traffic over the past few years. but the neighbors don’t complain. in fact they don’t notice. their big houses have big mortgages and so they work during the day and then through the night.
Continue reading a map can assure this once was a quiet suburb; ferguson, mo.