MY NAME IS GENE
THE HOOD
Poison running all through my veins,
I felt my temperature rise with bloodshot eyes
every shirt has a blood stain.
as I reached for my 9, I heard a baby cry.
Momma shaking her head, it’s a damn shame.
I saw its father die, tears in its mother’s eyes
I didn’t care—I had a habit to maintain.
before she could scream out, Why!?
I got tracks but I ain’t no train. Riding that horse like I was John Wayne. Hold up, here comes the drain— taste so sweet, like a sugarcane. OH! I felt my heart strain, like ice-cold water shot straight to the brain. Like a wild animal, I couldn’t be tamed. Scrape that bag—get every grain. Look in my eyes. Can’t you see the pain? Everything to lose. Nothing to gain. Slow down, get out of the fast lane. Brothers and sisters, it’s time for a change. As a matter of fact, this shit feels strange. My sobriety I must sustain. I need it like a flower needs rain. Look at the big picture—not at my frame. Hang my poems in the Hall of Fame so people everywhere will know my name.
Gene A. Barclay
Blood stains covered the cold concrete.
I NEVER NOTICED
My heart went out—I wanted to weep. Looking out at the many colored faces,
Murder and drugs on an all-time high,
ethnic backgrounds, and different races—
two more souls sailed through the sky.
thinking of all the lives that were wasted,
I searched my mind for a reason why.
remembering the time of segregation.
Then I remembered I heard that baby cry.
Fighting for everything we were taught,
Gunshots rang all through the night.
deals were made and souls were bought.
Tension and fear sharpened my sight.
Bloodshed, treachery, a deadly fight.
Somehow I gotta make it through this fight.
Many have died for our civil rights.
Stabbing, raping, robberies are the norm.
Martin, a man who had a dream.
I never noticed you meant so much.
There is no calm before the storm.
Boosted morals and self-esteem.
I never noticed how beautiful you are.
The stench of death so thick you can feel it in the air.
Ready to die for what he believed
I didn’t realize I was leaving a scar.
Who the hell said life was fair?
and wouldn’t back down until it was achieved.
I never noticed I was breaking your heart.
Bloodshed, and another brother dead.
Preaching the gospel and shedding tears,
I never noticed we were coming apart.
Sister-girl jumping bed to bed.
overcoming obstacles and fears.
I never noticed the kids wanted to play.
A child with nothing to eat eats lead instead.
On a mission from God—a mission of peace,
I never listened to a word you had to say.
An angry mob filled the street,
hoping and praying racism would cease.
I never noticed the tears in your eyes.
my chest thumped so hard you could see my heartbeat.
Another rose preaching from a different text.
I never noticed I was killing you inside.
Run toward the light—light is always good.
He called himself Malcolm X.
The door slammed—I’m trapped in the Hood.
He too was on a mission from God,
Gunshots started to ring—the heat hit my flesh.
but he gave it to you rough, raw, and hard.
I started to scream, then I heard the fat lady sing.
By any means necessary is what he would say.
I woke up, but it wasn’t a dream.
He still lives in our hearts and minds today.
I never noticed your pretty face. I never noticed your warm embrace. I never noticed your eyes were brown. I never noticed I was bringing you down. I never noticed you reached out your hand. I was too busy trying to be the man. I never noticed your gentle touch.
I never noticed we were coming to an end. I never noticed you packed your bags. I never noticed when you started to cry. I never even heard when you said goodbye. Then I noticed I wasn’t fair, being selfish, I didn’t share.
Can’t we stand side by side and unite?
Gene A. Barclay
The war is over. There’s no need to fight.
Lost in addiction, I didn’t care.
Put aside our differences and let’s begin
Then I noticed, you weren’t there!
to look at the heart, not the color of skin.
Gene A. Barclay
38
UNITE
But that don’t go with the code of the street.
I never noticed the softness of your skin.
Situations
Two dead bodies lie in the street.
Gene A. Barclay
Situations
39
