Middle Earth

Quiet Time For Me

I want to live where

Loyal little men with

big hearts & big hairy feet

live, with their dirt

smudged faces, who are

as brave as dragons.

Their perfectly carved out

cottages in the hills of

the Shire, round and

neat and Idyllic. I want

to live there, and breathe

the air there, but not as

a short big footed hobbit.

I want to be an Elf, —

tall and slender—

with the movements

of elegant precision,

like golden arrows slicing

through the air like

march winds … and loyal.

But – there is no neighbor,

no friend more loyal

than the always

ill-tempered dwarf,

whose word once given

Is more solid.

He will stand by you

till his death

if only because he promised.

And he did die for me, Kili,

and for Tauriel,

and other romantics

who thought

we were ruthless

assassins

in Middle Earth.

But in this…

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Middle Earth

I want to live where

Loyal little men with

big hearts & big hairy feet

live, with their dirt

smudged faces, who are

as brave as dragons.

Their perfectly carved out

cottages in the hills of

the Shire, round and

neat and Idyllic. I want

to live there, and breathe

the air there, but not as

a short big footed hobbit.

I want to be an Elf, —

tall and slender—

with the movements

of elegant precision,

like golden arrows slicing

through the air like

march winds … and loyal.

But – there is no neighbor,

no friend more loyal

than the always

ill-tempered dwarf,

whose word once given

Is more solid.

He will stand by you

till his death

if only because he promised.

And he did die for me, Kili,

and for Tauriel,

and other romantics

who thought

we were ruthless

assassins

in Middle Earth.

But in this bleak

world full of promise

and gold, with the

devastationtion of Smaug

There is one whose friendship

more loyal than all,

his goodness … blinds

in the darkness

like the sparkle of jewels —

in the noon sun

is our grey wizard.

But I must retreat to the Shire

to my little cottage

for some tea

I must return to

formation and the forest.

Even elves grow tired

when orcs lay dead

at their feet.

The Millennium Negro: The “New Black”

Joshua Lawrence Lazard

8 19 2014-WATN- Charice Pempengco & Raven Simone

“To put it bluntly, the likes of Pharrell and Raven-Symoné can afford to declare their independence from blackness.”

In April of this year, Pharrell Williams declared the “new Black” in an interview with Oprah Winfrey by saying:

The “new black” doesn’t blame other races for our issues. The “new black” dreams and realizes that it’s not a pigmentation; it’s a mentality. And it’s either going to work for you, or it’s going to work against you. And you’ve got to pick the side you’re gonna be on.

Just yesterday, child star of “The Cosby Show” fame, Raven-Symoné said the following:

I’m tired of being labeled.  I’m an American. I’m not an African-American; I’m an American.  I mean, I don’t know where my roots go to.  I don’t know how far back they go.  I don’t know what country in Africa I’m from, but I do know that my roots…

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A Light Shines

Somewhere in my mind a light shines, even in the darkest soul dwells some form of light. Some of us are enclosed in the same washed out dingy white walls … there are no paintings, instead, big windows with empty views.
The men and women, who work here, wear uniforms that look and smell like the dingy tight spaces we are confined to. At the same time, patients and staff alike are there for the same intention … To let in the eternal sunshine on their spotless minds.
The air tastes old; the food meets nutritional standards but looks dreary. There is one television on a boring channel. No music, nor happy chatter, just the sound of soft feet shuffling. Everything and everyone is dull, sad or doped up.
In the “public” sitting room our connection to the outside is a greyish bacterium layered pay phone __ fifteen minutes max per call, and when it rings, someone must play telephone operator/receptionist.
When checking into this club, you and your belongings are searched …every cavity, carefully. Anything brought in by out-of-towners, is ransacked and sometimes confiscated. Cadbury’s and books are always a safe bet.
A type of prison maybe, but not because of crimes against society, it’s because our minds commit crimes against us. In here we are helped to look for the on-switch that lets the light shine, so we can once again smile.

Crossing Borders: The History of Me

Time …
Put your mind in my head for a minute
cross the borders of lastingness and confines
while you rest in the comfort of now,
it was not long when the blood of my blood
endured the life of a slave.

In the quiet of day, the dead of night
abducted from the freedom of Africa,
ripped from all that’s familiar
to sail in the luxury of their shit, stink and dead
to worlds of deception and hate.

In the living rooms or on platforms they stood tall and slender,
well built, and strong, with breasts bared for all to see,
scared, confused and dehumanized,
the transaction goes on … Goods for sale.
Families are scattered like seeds.

Immorality …
Stripped of their identity and honor,
no longer wives or husbands, mothers or fathers
children no more, but slaves.
Cotton pickers and masters’ whores we are,
until the Lord bids us to sleep in the dust of the earth.

Bellies aching for mama, and sons longing to feel like men
but the slave masters induced the black minds
that they were not equal,
we were God’s gift they said, to slave for them
and they preached that it was God’s law.

The black race is inferior, like monkeys they said,
we have no perception of life.
Lies they disclosed to their mirrors
as they violated my sisters and their daughters
and forced them to bare their sacred souls.

From freedom and the lush greens of Africa
to servitude in the blazing sun of the plantations,
with the stinging lash of the whip opening yesterday’s blisters
bleeding the life out of you until …
you leave time for eternity.

 

Michelle Gaskin

 

Thank You Eve

That miserable misguided
mother of all mothers
all those years ago
one moment of stupidity
and we are still paying for it.
she chose to trust
the deceitful serpent
over the beautiful almighty.

Then …
Miss Conniving,
sweet talked Adam
into doing the one thing
she knew …
they were not supposed to do.
And what did he do?
He bit!
That jackass
Just didn’t have what it took
to stand up and be a man and save his kind.

 Born to rule my ass,
he could not even live one day
without whining about how lonely he was.
He just wanted somebody to pick his damn food,
and oh … did she pick it alright.
Now, thanks to Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dumb
we all got kicked out of Eden,
and I’m sure the damn fruit didn’t taste so hot.

Women have to contend with
period cramps and labor pains
not to mention watching their men
chase women all over the earth;
I suppose they want their one rib back.
Because he took that bite
he now has to bust his ass daily
to make a living.
And that wayward woman
set the example for the
type of girl men are drawn to.

And how many of us ladies
still get up and pick
a forbidden fruit
out of the six-pack
in the fridge for our Adam?
My point exactly,
nothing’s changed.
Thank you Eve.

 

Michelle Gaskin

 

 

 

 

I Know You

Image

I know what those eyes see

because I see it too

so many hating on each other

because they’re different from you

 

I know what your heart feels

because I feel it here

a world where anything can happen

since few of us do care

 

I know the torment of your soul

because I tremble inside

as mother rages over the earth

and takes all beneath the tide

 

I know that face

that nose

those eyes

I know everything you do

because I know you well

my face is your face too.

The Spouse

 

Lying on his side

so still in our bed

There is no movement

Is he alive … Is he dead?

Damn-it, he’s breathing.

Positioned like a giant rock

cemented to the spot

no wind can stir

kinesthesia cannot decipher

Damn-it, there is respiratory movement.

Michelle Gaskin

Ojala

Ojala
For all the women and little girls I have met and those I am yet to meet.
Ojala,
I hope you know the difference between what you need and what you seek, between what you seek over what you want to pad the void created by life. Life changed from colored pencils to lipsticks, from Chantilly to Coco Chanel, and from playing with boys to playing up to boys. They could not see past your coca cola figure to your sharp mind. They were too blinded because they see with that one eye in the middle of their head.

Ojala,
I hope you never stop striving to make a difference in your life and your world, this world. The changes you make will affect the changes in my life because; we are connected by the forever blinking North Star in the dark discouraging night, to the shivering cold from the South Pole. My mother is connected to your mother and to his mother. We are all connected and we share more than make up tips and recipes. We are the Amazons of the twenty first century.

Ojala,
I hope you understand that I am cheering for you to achieve your full potential, and change this damn country, lead our people and move the world, because you can. No man could as history has proven, no Republican, no Democrat, not white, not even the first black man and god knows Sarah from Alaska just didn’t have it, but you my child, my sister, her mother and his wife, you can. You have what we all look for. You are the chosen.

Ojala,
I hope you see in yourself, what I see, what we see, is a God given, talent, brilliance and pillar of strength that comes along like an anomaly of nature, only once in blue moon; and blue moons do exist. You are like the Greek gods and goddesses all in one eloquent lady. Maybe it was you who Maya Angelou wrote about in phenomenal woman. Oh what does it matter? You know who you are, because your mother raised you like my mother raised me – strong.

Ojala,
I hope we matter to you, but what matters more is that you make a good life for yourself, that you are happy, that you leave tracks where you walk so others can follow. Sister, daughter, and friend I support you because as I once told you, we are all connected. My mother and your mother and his mother too, we are all sisters. We have to believe in each other, look out for one another, because at the end of the day, we love each other. Ojala.

 

1. Arabic for “may God [Allah] will it” or “hopefully”and adopted by Spain, it translates “I hope”.

 

Michelle Gaskin

Diary of a Happily Married Woman

 

Do I dare speak?
Well yes just not my mind
And if I do remember to be kind.

Don’t sigh
That will set him off
And then I’ll cry because I am so soft.

Don’t try to make decisions
He must be in control
He is the God and I live in his world.

Do not relax and look too happy
That always makes him frown
And in the end the arguments always bring me down.

Don’t question his intentions
I just do as I am told
I’d rather keep the peace than be out in the cold.

Don’t dare form my own opinions
I lost that power years ago
It seems I’m very limited to either yes or no.

Please don’t think me foolish diary
For being a doleful wife
I’m biding my time daily for taking back my life.

Unlike the faithful sunshine
I fight to rise up every day
Although I walk on eggshells I’m building my own way

Don’t count my silence as strength lost
Mistake my retreat as defect
Much like the ashes of the phoenix … I will resurrect.

 

 

Michelle Gaskin