Sunday, October 1, 2017

RENEE’ DRUMMOND-BROWN


RENEE’ DRUMMOND-BROWN

GONE FISHING? ‘WATCH’ WHAT YOU CATCH?????

I tell my woes
‘ONLY’
to the wind(s)
I trust
absolutely
‘NO~ONE’
‘cept’
‘ONLY’
in Him
tried by six
tested
by ‘sum’
proven
by Him
‘ov’r’ an’ ‘ov’r’
what
part of this
…..
don’t
you get?
Again.




Hurts
my middle
name
fighting back
‘IZ’
‘MY’
game
asking
no questions
‘kickin’
behinds
an’
‘takin’
no names;
I am
in it
to
win it;
YEAH,
what
don’t
you get
‘WINNINGS’
definitely
my authentic game!
Yes!!
And
I
don’t
play
fair;
you don’t say?
Yeah,
winning
‘IZ’
my claim
to
‘my’
legitimate
‘kindda’
fame!





I’ve fried
fish
waaaaaaay bigger
than you
cat, trout, crawfish
WHITING
and
‘ev’N’
‘dat’
‘BLACK’ ‘BASS’
too!




I’m the real
deal
‘AIN’T’ no joke
ask “them”?
I’ll take you there (staple ‘sangers’)
down that
lonely lonesome
blackballed road
‘fo’ broke!




I know
‘WHEN’ to
hold ‘em’
fold ‘em’
‘cept’,
I do not
run;
‘ev’n’
own
a pink
revolver
naw
‘jus’ ‘kiddin’
I ain’t got
no gun$




Invade
my space
I do not play
on bended
knees
‘fo’ you
yeah you
I’ve already
prayed
yeah,
I’ve won
you lost
again
‘JUS’
GET
‘OUTTA’
MY WAY!
‘Jus’
shut up
He gets
both
you an’ my
last say.

Dedicated to: Busy ‘BODIES’ can my bones live?
A RocDeeRay Poem

No part of this poem may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without written permission from the author. All Rights Reserved@ September 3, 2017.


WHO LET THE ‘DAWGZ’ OUT?

WANTED ‘DEAD’.
NOT
ALIVE!!!


EXTRA EXTRA
READ ALL ABOUT IT
RUNAWAY SLAVE
ON THE LOOSE
THERE’S
NO DOUBT
ABOUT IT.
NO WORRIES
THOUGH.
THE GOOD OL’ ‘BOYZ’
ARE SURE
‘GONNA’
CATCH IT
WITH
HAY & ALLEN’S LIVE STOCK
OF NEGRO ‘DAWGZ’;
WHOSE UNQUESTIONABLY
‘GONNA’
CATCH ‘EM’ ALL!


And them good ol’ ‘boyz’’
said
“Get them ‘dawgs’
‘ov’r’ here.
I can surely smell
that Negro’s
fear”.


And the slave said
“Lord
if
they catch me
on
this day;
I ‘jus’
‘wanna’
be dead.
Cause
I can’t
go back;
won’t
go back.
NO!
Not ‘EVER’ again
enslaved.
No,
not there”!


And them good ol’ ‘boyz’
said
“Well,
would you look here,
at his clothes,
“on
the ground
face down”,
and
our ‘dawgz’
KNOW
that
‘Negro’ scent
anywhere”!!!


And the slave
said
“Lawd, Lawd, Lawd
I ‘needs’ me
‘sum’
waters;
to bathe
my ‘heads’.
I ‘needs’
to wade
like
no other
from
the
Leviticus curse
that
YOU LAWD
sent me,
my sons,
brothers
and
haughty daughters”.


And them good ol’ ‘boyz’ said
“The ‘dawgz’ scent
‘iz’
‘gettin’ cold.
That ‘Negro’
‘dun’ found
him
‘sum’ water
from ‘sumwhere’;
so
‘um’ told.
No worries though,
at $3.‘d00llas’
a head
‘we’ze’
‘gonna’ find ‘em’,
catch ‘em’
skin ‘em’
and
kill ‘em’
DEAD.
If it takes
all night
he ‘gotta’
surface somehow
‘sumwhere’!


And the slave sang
“Wade in the water,
‘waaade’
in the water;
I’m
the ‘chile’
that
‘MoZez’ ‘brang’
out of
Egypt land.
‘Iz’
got to
wade
‘jus’
a lil’
‘whiles’
longer”.


And them good ol’ ‘boyz’ sang
“Eeny meeny miny moe
catch a
‘Negro’
by its toe
if they
‘hollas’
‘don’t’
let ‘em’
go
Eeny meeny
miny moe.
‘Cuz’
ain’t no sunshine
‘why’s’ ‘youz’ gone;
the
SNOW PATROLS
got its
hounds
on ground.
‘We’ze’ ‘fennin’
to castrate
an’
send you
heavenly
bound.
Ain’t no sunshine
while ‘you’z’
gone”.


And the slave pressed on.
But,
did I mention
he’s
only
10 yrs. ol’?
A boy.
Far less than
a man
existing life
minus
experiencing
the ‘feelins’
of added joy
at hand.


And them good ol’ ‘boyz’ said
“Well
‘lookie’ ‘lookie’
what ‘we’ze’
got here;
a
scared Negro
all
draped in anguish
and
‘sum’ fear.
‘We’ze’ ‘gonna’
 kill ‘em’,
right now;
right here.
Tried.
Tested.
An’
proven
by our ‘MOB’
who surely
ain’t scared”.


And the slave ‘BOY’ said
“Lawd,
‘imma’ cast
‘ALL’
fears
‘onna’
God heard,
not seen
but
‘sumhow’
I know that I know;
You
do care.
Father,
forgive them
for they
know not
what
they do.
‘Iz’ ready
to be
a man now
an’ hang
from
a tree,
‘ev’n’
‘fo’ You.


The Father knows
all
oxygen
was
cut off
as he
‘swang’.
10 yrs. ol’
but
considered
a man.
Eyes bulging
from
his head
sweat pouring
from
his glands.
Breath
slipping fast.
Numbness
in both hands;
mob ‘yellin’
“swing low
sweet chariot
no-ones
‘fennin’
to carry you home”.


Boy’s
minds’
the last to leave
as he
FORCED
to
~SWING~
and become
a man
from
a
 poplar tree.


BUT~~~~
THAT’S
NOT HOW
THE STORY ENDS.
‘JUST’
AS ‘SURE’
AS I
‘ROSE’ AGAIN.
I AIN’T
FORGOT
WHAT
THEY DID.
Signed~~~~
THE FATHER,
WITH
THAT BOYS TEARS.
Dedicated to:
‘Y‘our’
BLACK LIFE MATTERED ENOUGH FOR ME TO PEN!
A B.A.D. poem
IN LIGHT OF BLACK HISTORY MONTH 2017; LEST WE FORGET.
No part of this poem may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without written permission from the author. Published with AuthorHouse Publications. All Rights Reserved@ February 4, 2017.




HIM.

The day
we met;
I saw us
old.
Somehow,
I knew
he
was the one.
I knew
I’d have
both
his daughter’s.
AND
his only
son.
I knew
when meeting
you;
we’d both
grow young.

Dedicated to: Number uno.

A RocDeeRay Poem

No part of this poem may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without written permission from the author. All Rights Reserved. AuthorHouse Publishing Company. Copyrighted material@ September 2, 2017.

RENEE’ DRUMMOND-BROWN




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