Skip to main content

Make Me (Samuel Jones-Bastrop, LA)

For some reason,
You're under the impression,
Taking all the credit,
Telling all who'd listen,
That you made who I am today.

I may be under forty,
But when it comes to confrontation,
I'm Old School.

Call me an orthodontist,
'Cause I'm here
To straighten some things out, see

Did not make me.

You say
That with my success
You were instrumental.
When really,
You were just a guitar pick.

You like to think that
You gave me a
Platform for attention
When all of these people
Can already see me.

You seem to truly believe
That my terra cotta form
Is the result
Of you scooping up some clay
And patting your hands together. No,

Did not make me.

You did not
Lay down
With my father
Approximately nine months before
February 24, 1991.

So don't you ever again
Cheat me
By suggesting that
I didn't have to
In order to learn
The lessons
That led me to

Know better,
Do better,
Be better,
Have better!

So for now on
You need to
Act like
You knew me
Before today, because

Did not make me!


Post a Comment

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
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
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
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…

"I Love You" is Enough (Louis Toliver Jr)

Please don’t stress I see what you do all year Everyday you show me Through your actions How much you care for me But please don’t stress It’s not money or possessions That make me give my life to you It’s the moments that are small When people don’t care to look That you show your love most So don’t stress to demonstrate What you already know you do Just say “I love you” and… My underwear will come off for you

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,