by redclay | Oct 5, 2021 | Detention Center Writing Contests, fiction, Poetry
Poetry, Heard/Alexandria Detention Center writing contest, August 2021
Sometimes I lay back and cry still
Love kills time heals and I haven’t had time to
I mean for real you still be on my mind still
And they say you live and you learn
and since you left I haven’t lived
The world gonna turn and for your love I will give
and our past dictates every decision that I make
The effect is quite prolific
And our union was explicit
And since you left I been feelin distant
Moment came but I missed it
I just want peace, I don’t want problems
It’s like you gave up cuz things got tough
Either that or the love I gave you wasn’t enough
Felt the pain of your blows got the scars and it shows
And my heart’s on my sleeve and I wear it like clothes
Easy come, easy go I guess that’s how it goes
And it’s like I’m stuck in that moment and I’m froze
Icebox where my heart goes
Relationships won’t start those
Because my insecure intuition parts those
But it’s like you never missed it
Found you another but my heart’s in a prison
Waiting for you to release it
Or maybe I’m just trippin
See, the lessons that you gave me was cold to the touch
And I ain’t a quitter so I’ll never give up
You got peculiar expectations and I’ll never live up
And honestly that makes it worse
So I’m on the road to riches sexin every woman on its course
Hoping that I’m forgiven for misleading women
Offering it all and I didn’t have intentions
And I’m not blaming you it’s just one of my imperfections
And yes I have many and you thought that they were precious
And I just want to be the one that gains from my progressions
And yes, I get the message
So don’t worry about me coming for your boo and try to stretch him
Cuz you know I be the one to see slim and get to lunchin
And I know it’s not becoming
But for you the limit’s nothing.
by redclay | Sep 23, 2021 | Detention Center Writing Contests, fiction, Poetry
By Sascha Carlisle
Poetry, Heard/Alexandria Detention Center writing contest, August 2021
If they let me code Heaven
It’d be a dope place
You could taste the finest fruit
Or try out every plate
Like TV you’d see everything
Everyone ever did
Find out from the unrequited love
What made her ticc
You could hear how your heroes
Brought themselves out of bed
Experiencing lives
Of those that are dead
Paint your placebo
It’s your work of art
You get what you believe in
At the end of your part
I’d chitchat with Adam
About how he cyphered words
Or ask Thoth how he managed
To transcend this Earth
Watch and don his crown
As he reigned in his day
Caste the gods being Brahma
And reshape the race
Go fishing with Fuxi
Observe all his ways
Stargaze with ZoroAster
Putting time into space
Moses a big one
How’d he merge all those hoods
Meditate as the Buddha
Learn what he understood
Jesus my homie,
For what did you fight?
With Muhammad hit Ghazawat
Excite a nation of might
Party with Genghis
And philosophize
See Mayer come up
As his Rothschilds rise
As reality blands
Through all this knowledge
I’d explore possibilities
Go down every ridge
Adventures with the boyz
My girl and no jail
Puzzle together my best life
Hop in and sail
Close with a thousand years
Of ecstatic bliss
Nirvana then comes
And I’d hit the switch
An atheist heaven
A final release
To feel the conclusion
Eternal peace
by redclay | Sep 23, 2021 | Detention Center Writing Contests, fiction, Poetry
By Avis Parks
Poetry, Heard/Alexandria Detention Center writing contest, August 2021
You say that you are a king,
that wants to just be able to enjoy your kingdom,
you say you want a special lady to become your wife to be your queen,
the queen of your kingdom
your queen that will have your children,
your princes and princess.
You want for them to be able to enjoy life in the canyon.
You want to be a king that sits on the mountain
as your able to wanten
as the water flows down the river.
Like a fountain as your queen is able to watch the flowers bloom
while the sweet scent of her perfume
blows across your nose
as the wind blows down in that directions
of where the children are playing.
The king & thy queen,
enjoying the view of your children as they are growing.
Is there anything else more so she your queen may ask you,
on such a wonderful, beautiful day
as the evening starts to fall and the sun starts to set.
Do you king she you queen ask believe
that thiers some people that poor
while you sit here complaining that you just want a little bit more.
What more is it you need when you’re the king.
Mr. King, did you even stop to realize that this was only your dream
and not your queen’s dream?
You dream, Mr. King, of making that your only made her your queen, Ms. Queen!!!
Apart of you team also to have her to redeem to her Ms. Queen
((Freedom))
Just being able to become someone’s queen
Now you say your and king.
So stop to start.
In really be the king.
Just so she can be able to really wear her ring.
So what do you say?
Mr. King let us hear you’re the lion’s raws
We also want to hear yours
so what more say let us hear yours
Mr. King, you raws!!
by redclay | Sep 23, 2021 | Detention Center Writing Contests, fiction, Poetry
Third place, poetry, Heard/Alexandria Detention Center writing contest, August 2021
in comprehension of your sacred Black exterior,
the likes of such I’ve never seen,
true invigorating phenomenon –
of the spectacular Ebony Queen.
Without a hint of conceit,
just flawless configuration from your head to your pretty little feet,
enshrouded in luscious regal brown epidermal –
making you scrumptious & unique, in harmony like a well composed song,
within your melody is where I know I belong,
your captivating presence can right any wrong.
Utmost enthralled that you exist,
your chocolate sexy can’t resist.
I live to need Blackwomanness,
those lips, hands and hips to kiss,
compel my heart to insist
that I emphatically persist,
to make you an integral part of it,
to pull you in as close as close can get,
knowing that you are a perfect fit
and until you’re mine I refuse to quit,
you’ve got my mind, body and soul lit –
Queen, Queen, you’re that damned exquisite
Beautiful pretty you’re pretty beautiful
and my vision sees nothing less,
true embodiment of heaven,
Black masculinity you truly bless.
We began as light energy,
we developed and next we flee,
into the macroscopic stratosphere
where can be found the beautifulest Black galaxy –
a place where we first met,
that we are the original,
our love for one another innately provisional.
So enunciates the Creator,
the All in All known as Allah, Maker,
Owner of that beautiful Black Star,
authentic Black God worshipped in the Motherland,
before our enslavement by the “other man”,
biblical rider on the pale horse called Death,
who worked the hell out of us til we had nothing left,
responsible for over 100 million of us taking our final breath,
the most atrocious of slave histories
and the world’s greatest theft.
You were compelled to take a stand,
you were not only the woman,
tending to my mental/physical wounds,
for more than 400 blood moons,
yet with all that on your plate,
I could feel your love proliferate
and that beautiful pretty that you still maintain,
throughout this haunted odyssey of tears & pain.
And I’m grateful you stayed,
unbeknownst to you I’ve begged,
thanking Allah for this Black woman He made,
dauntless and beautiful in every hue of shade,
in my soul there’s a perpetual parade,
because I’m still here due to the price you’ve paid!
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