Poems by Sharon Guyton

Poems by Sharon Guyton

LET FREEDOM RING

My country, tears of thee Land where my fathers died Let freedom ring Where the ones who didn’t feel the pain… A lot who did—gagged and shackled—they felt the pain. Let freedom ring.

OBJECTS

One of the items felt like I touched a pair of glasses. This item feels so hard, yet shines. This is something that I would like to wear on a sunny day. The other object feels like a stuffed doll, fluffy, full of fun, you can squeeze it. I just like holding it.

Poems by Miguel Angel Class

1ST AMENDMENT

Freely they talk Freely they speak They are speaking to you They are speaking to me With CDs, DVDs, TV and MP3s Words are the seed Pictures planted painted ideas indeed I gave you my canvas I entrusted you with me Whoa to me a starry night Painted unexpectedly on the canvas of creativity The Creator told me Your words matter to me Whether you eat good or bad fruit from a tree Crucified for the world’s sin That’s how they welcomed me in The paint thinner my blood Redeems you to see Life lived eternally, with me I am the King of Kings Above all created things I put purpose in your spirit It’s a whisper—listen and you’ll hear it

TRUTH HAS STUMBLED IN THE STREETS

Truth has stumbled in the streets. Is anyone concerned that He has fallen? Will anyone pick him up? Or did we not want him to begin with? For he shook up the world of Opinions. A narrow mind wasn’t politically correct. The proud did not speak so meek. Their insecurities spoke arrogantly. Their hate of truth led to insanity. Insane because The Truth loved itself. No inconsistency found in him or contradiction. For He is the rock and not sandy variations. Some are resistant, although Truth is consistent.

VESSEL

Meticulously formed out of the dust of the earth Shall I function or malfunction? Functionality is purposeful reality Eyes wide open no need for smoking An ideology is manifested for all to see God came in person To personally speak Relatable and meant for the recipient Considerate, loving and patient He speaks to the illiterate and lame The rejected and estranged The individual, ostracized and alienated Persecuted and hated My heart rejoices at the right A light to those in darkness Groping along the walls of reality Feeling my way through, like a man without eyes In the darkness of misunderstanding, hope as a flickering light is burning brighter The dark reality has now become lighter.

Poems by Azeem S. Khan

THE LUCK OF A FOOL OR THE ROLL OF A DICE

Dedicated to my influential mentor, Desiree Edghill (Guyanese actress and HIV/AIDS activist)

The luck of a fool Or the roll of a dice For whatever brought me into the parking lot that night.

The luck of a fool Or the roll of a dice For seeing more in me than I could see in myself.

The luck of a fool Or the roll of a dice For dreaming a dream that was bigger than I could dream for myself.

The luck of a fool Or the roll of a dice For making those dreams come to life.

The luck of a fool Or the roll of a dice For opening your heart to my family and making them part of your life.

Thank You Desiree Edghill May your star always shine bright For you are the luck that God sent into this fool’s life.

GREEN

The more I live, the more I see The inhumanity in a humane society The struggle you have struggled, now you are on top, Not paying it forward or looking back

Talk is cheap And your mouth is on sale Planning the faith of others Counting dollar by dollar Stories like snowflakes, each different but ice at the core.

The sins you sow will be reaped. By you? Or the children? Only he can decide.

ETERNAL

Hope springs eternal As my heart continues to search For colors that complement each other And now the canvas is ours.

The Fathers hug. We switch sides. The generations celebrate well into the night, under festive moonlight.

Life is now ours, as we redefine traditions and live in the unity of our colors. I arose, and hope springs eternal.

TREE

O that Tree In its glory days! One of nature’s creations to see Its MIGHT, Its BEAUTY, Its MAJESTY.

Those leaves once created its Shade, Inspiration, Comfort.

Those flowers once created its Beauty, Fragrance, Colors

The leaves have all withered, the flowers have all bloomed And now the night falls But something beautiful remains, The memories of that Tree.

Poems by Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis

SOON THE CLEARING

There is temporary unrest inside my mind I am neither up or down. I am snug awaiting the clearing.

My room holds great view, and I’m free thinking Looking out at blue skies, barren trees, and breeze without the clearing.

The morning invites calm, and the minutes fade fast And though my heart feels sore, I still strive to love the clearing.

The bulk of energies I share should allot me good Only a fool follows a heart wavering and wandering from the clearing.

It doesn’t take me long to recognize true passion But take away my pen, books, reading glasses, and still, I’ll await the clearing.

HOW MINUTE A MOMENT PACKED WITH MIGHT

Choice, fair or foul, lays wait in a moment

Free will is in the moment Stillness is in the moment Later and tomorrow is in the moment Courage is in the moment Complacency is in the moment Tenacity and intrepidness is in the moment History, mystery, and strength is in the moment Pain and blame is in the moment Sin’s built-in consequence is in the moment Room for remorse is in the moment Humor and innocence is in the moment Clarity and conformity is in the moment Your summit of pure joy is in the moment APRIL AND MOTHER EARTH

April is thirty And fierce as Niagara She whets our palate For spring fling with nature She shows us we are one.

HAIKU

If you can think, write If you don’t drink, drive If you don’t drug, right on

Writing— Excavation of the mind For gems

He drank and sang songs And drummed on dashboard of car Then fell dead at noon

Intoxicated With his new love he jumped ship And kicked addiction

My drug of choice is: The Word and my will to live Filled with gratitude

One branch of my tree Handed a message to me: “Life can be renewed.”

Our mind is gateway To heaven or hell on earth And that is final AMID THE LUXURY OF NOW

It is prelude to spring. The honey and I are basking On sundeck, in mid-March, warm breeze. He’s reading King James, “Genesis to Revelation.” I sit reading “Trick of the Eye.” It’s captivating.

Pine trees rustle in the wind. Squirrels I see frolicking. I pause for birds singing. The innocent voice of a child across fences is welcoming. In this military town of revolving doors The sound of a barking dog, too, is welcoming.

I think to myself, “How sad those years I lived half-blind.” I could now bask on verandah, overlooking calm Caribbean waters Or dwell in cemented home on top floor with panoramic view Overlooking city of antiquity, now tourist town Or own many mansions, furnished, surrounded by trees and sea.

Then, just like that: warm breeze, with rustling pine Dished nostalgia back to me, I heard, “Amidst the luxury of now, to bygone Buried years, you’d bow?”