Skip to main content

New Author: Lakari Jaquan Fontenot

     "I always feel  better whenever I think about Lakari and I can already be quite content! I can only think about enjoyable experiences I've shared with him. Lakari has always been funny and uplifting to me. What strikes me most about his personality though, is how open he was about his experiences. This is my favorite thing about him. His transparency and honesty regarding himself, and his view of the world, makes him an endearing figure to me. Always supportive and genuine, I am proud to welcome Lakari Jaquan Fontenot to Louisiana Words!" - Samuel Jones

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

This Little White Boy Who Wanted Some Nigger In Him (James Leland Ludeau III - Lafayette, LA)

Grew up on a plantation
Removed
Secluded from the world
I knew classes but didn’t understand race
Because what raced through my veins wasn’t something of which I could ever speak
My father could fuck the slave girls
But I couldn’t touch the men
It filled me with resentment
Fueled my resentment with lust
Until it was too much to take
It was a small contained community
White as the cotton in the fields
Only dark around the edges where the black men lived
Ploughing the fields
I’d imagine them ploughing me
Sinewy
Glistening with sweat as the sun bathed their shoulders
The sweat running down until it pooled around the waistband of their thin cotton pants
Their skin
Black, almost indigo, like night
Some like coffee with milk in it
Cafe au lait
I could smell their musk
Watched as their muscly bodies worked
I yearned
Burned
This little white boy who wanted some nigger in him
To fall beneath the weight of one
As he heaved
As he forced his throbbing cock into my crevice
I longed for even the pa…

Poet's Cry for Mike Tidewell (Barry Sons - Berwick, LA)

I heard the Politician say in a hunter’s whisper, “There’s a poet in the marsh, I heard one today. He was crying about the marshland’s accelerated decay.”
“Mr. Politician, can you help us anyway? I refuse to think our marsh is so quickly Going away. If we can scan the galaxy And bring men back from the dead, Why can’t we save our marsh? I can’t Get that around my head.”
There’s a poet in the marsh, I heard one today. Whining and crying; Who needs them anyway?” “Mr. Politician, I’m here to make you feel. Try to wrap your heart around the things that Are real. Like love and friendship passion and Sorrow; the love of earth and concern for tomorrow.”
“There’s a poet in the marsh, I heard one today." Mr. Politician, I cry for America’s wetlands,

God Will Cry (Louis Toliver Jr - Swartz, LA)

This is your soul trying to connect to you for last the time. We have come to the final crossroad in our life. This is the end. These are our last earthly breaths.
From this abuse of yourself, we will both die. You will be a rotting corpse. I will fade away into Darkness. People may mourn your death, at first, but you will be forgotten, while I am left here molested by the hands of Hell.
God will cry, “My child didn’t fulfill her purpose.”
I’m begging you; don’t do this. It has been a slow ride, a slow descent to suicide.