As Director of the Institute, I welcome each of you. It is my hope that you become the detailers of the African American young male experience throughout the world. You are encouraged to write without halting ambiguity.
We will use this Literacy Blog to digitize our voices across several Chicagoland communities by strengthening the connections among reading, writing, and action.
Brother Author, Dr. T.
5 comments:
Empty Space
Vacant
Abadoned
Unfilled
So far gone it can't be real
Where were you? No where to be found
I needed youb but you weren't there
I thought duo was better than singular
You left me, so on the inside there's an empty space
And when you see me I'm not your reflection, I'm a blank face.
I hate you
For not being able to see
The times when you
Asked me to tag along
I shrugged it off
I let you be
You chose your path
You lived your life
Instead of being free
You chose to fight
I hate you
For not taking a stand
Instead of doing all the drugs
You could of changed
Into a man
And realized that life is not a joke
You kidded your way
And even died with the smoke
And I’m glad that you choked
It didn’t matter to you
That’s why your spirit was broke
So much for thinking things through
I hate you
For not being a brother
Dishonoring your mother
And not being a father
And running away
From all you fears
God thanks for the courage
You soon will pay
No word clashing
As I try, not to shed a tear
I hate you
For being trapped underneath
In another’s person treasure
Your prize was defeat
And the prize you think you’ve won
Is not winnable
You sucked up all the joy
Ruined everyone’s fun
I hate you
For dying before you ever got a chance to know
Or watching me succeed,
Or maybe grow
Into what I have become
Why?
Because I have earned it
Unlike what you haven’t….
I hate you
For being a liar
Your legacy is gone
Being burned in the fire
And as I realize
I wouldn’t want to become PIECE of you
It’s finally over,
It’s finally through…..
I hate you
For not being able to see
The times when you
Asked me to tag along
I shrugged it off
I let you be
Your absence burned inside
That’s what was killing me
I hate you…
To be seen with the greatest is my dream.
And to stay on the strait and narrow path is within
me. To see what the legends see and escape poverty
And express myself in poetry feels to be my destiny
Not to always see sexually and negatively but to see
Positively and poetically. To deny the gangs and become a household Name
To reach for the sky to be as great as the timeless and as great as the greatest!
John galloway
6/3/08
RUSH
I couldn’t control it; I’m surrounded by noise and impulse. Terry Martin “6’ 1” football player who’s about 216 pounds standing in front of me, staring me down. I’m 5’5 140 pounds nicknamed “Stickman”. How dumb could I really be? Why on earth would I meet this guy at the tracks? This is really messed up! What do I do now?
I began trying to calm down. The noise turned into faces. These people I knew, talked to, hung out with, and knew personally. My heart was racing. I still wasn’t sure of what to do. Terry was still staring at me, watching me as if he was a bull and I was painted red, an open target. I became double minded, but the people surrounding me were making so much noise I couldn’t hear my thoughts. I just began to reflect.
This whole situation started off at school earlier in the lunchroom. There was this girl named Erica who until 15 minutes ago I thought didn’t have a boyfriend, so I hit on her and she flirted back and it was all good. But, she has this friend, Michelle, who has a big mouth, and she told old lover boy Terry I hit on his girl. So then he was all in my face talking all this junk about fighting me, and I was in front of my friends so acted all big and bad too. I never thought he would be ready to fight me for real. I am screwed. I have never been in a fight before in my life, outside of video games, this was real life action. When he told me to come to the tracks, I thought it was gone be just me and him and a few other people. Where if I gave him a little go, maybe busted his lip I could pretend like I won, but the entire freshman, sophomore, and a select few of juniors who stayed in trouble were there. There was no way to lie now. THIS WAS A HUGE MISTAKE!
Right when I was pulling myself away from my, what seemed like three hour thoughts, there was a fist headed strait for me. WAM! He connected, I felt my teeth click together I didn’t have time to brace for it. My head was spinning. I looked up to see my friend Travis.
“Hit em Stick”, he yelled.
I quickly turned around and hit Terry in the jaw, it hurt my fist. After that hit I felt an immediate rush, I was cocking back for another punch when I caught an uppercut to the stomach. SPPPP. I felt the air escape me. I fell to my knees. Another fist came, my face hit the ground. Shortly after I saw the Nike sign from the bottom of his Air Force Ones coming toward face stomping me. I wanted my friends to help me but they all stood laughing including Erica. Another foot came. All this for girl, Terry kicked me in my stomach. All this to look big and bad and now I’m the ground bleeding. I’m all this pain for a temporary flirt and a temporary rush.
Untitled
By: John Galloway
I Never Had the Best Choice Of Buddies Or Much Friends, Some May Call Me A Crybaby But In The End It All Depends. Daddy Never Gave A Damn, But I Would Always Kill For My Child To Have Another Meal. Still Worried About Were I Will Go
Wrong and Will They Put “JUST ANOTHER N***A” Over my Tombstone. A Whole Bunch of Sad Songs and Flower Bringing, with a funeral full of little cousins I Never
Be seeing. Trying in School to Be the Best Praying to God for A cure For M.S. I Guess It Fells Good To Get Some Of This Off My Chest But My Soul Must Consume The Rest. Scared of the Fact That I may not Graduate But The suit and Gown Is Something I Will Always Anticipate. So Much Spitting On me I feel Like another Dog but it will Feel Good to Be the Underdog. The Flows So Hot I’m Afraid to Touch It, Been holding it so long I get Blisters from it! We still live In a Recession; the country isn’t making no progression. I’m Still Black,N ***AS Still sell Crack, Most Pitiful N***AS Still Looking for a purse to snatch or kill a mother over One Now what’s The Gansta in That? Still Older People Trying to Lecture us But When Girls Get pregnant all They Blame is us. Police go over board to restrain us because the N***A in us don’t Want People Putting Chains On us. So When I die I Want to go to Heaven because now isn’t A Gift So Why Do We Call It the Present.
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