 Jessie. Thank you very much. So happy to see you out this evening on our 11th annual poetry recital here at Baby Watt and Branch Library. We are going to have an excellent show tonight. There are many talented poets in our audience and we cannot hear some of the, cannot wait to hear some of the talent that we have. Some of the people who will be speaking our spoken word tonight. I'd like to introduce Larry Ware who has been our host for the last 11 years. He is also an advocate for the Baby Branch and helps get many things here for us in this community at this branch and I'm so thankful to have him as part of our community and he's also a very well-known local poet in his own right. He'll do some poetry tonight as well. So please without any further ado welcome Larry Ware. Thank you very much for the wonderful introduction there Linda. Linda, let's give her a great round of applause. She's doing such a wonderful job here in a staff. And also let's give our cameraman Dave. He does a wonderful job as well. And before we get in the program it is a customary that we pay tribute to those who are not here this evening to share this moment with us and we wish those who are shut in and sick well and I'd like to make a special dedication to a good friend of mine of over 30 years. Henry Clark the former California Heavyweight Champion who passed away just recently and we sent our condolences to his family and we're going to get the program underway right now and I would like to introduce our this is going to be a spectacular night I can feel it. Our first poet is going to be Patrick. Let's give Patrick Johnson a great round of applause. Good evening everybody. First poem I like to do is called spiritual resurrection. I close my ears to all external sound and listen to a voice within. I was amazed by what I didn't hear anymore. Outside criticism no longer interfere with my thoughts or affected my senses. People who sat in judgment of me became silent observers. Yes I sat and listened to the voice within my soul. Thus it dawned on me that peace must come from within. Yes the fear of what others would people think or how they would react was of no consequence to me. A healing process had begun which gave me a new sense of awareness. Inner peace, self-acceptance and a conscious free of guilt. I was important. My thoughts were important and my actions were consequential to how I viewed them. I had experienced a spiritual resurrection. My life became my own and I loved it for being so. Thank you. The next point I like to read is called do you read me over. Not long after the death sentence I had received was lifted and I was exonerated I decided a change would be necessary in order to prevent myself from being victim to the same circumstances that had impaired me before. Not allowing anything to persuade my thinking or intrude upon my concentration. The first thing I had to do is to develop my thought perception to a strongest possible degree. This would eliminate, this would enable me to block any and all irrevolent, unuseful conversation that only served to diminish my mental state of well-being. This would also shield me from unwanted pain and misery that people tend to impose upon you when they fail to communicate their thoughts properly. No longer shall I be drawn into meaningless chit-chat that's based on gossip or that he says she says shit spare me the pain. I will not serve as interpreter of senseless illogical words that that's inflicted by ignorance and stupidity. You have to know what you're saying and say what you know. All be as a sigh. Be aware. All information not intelligently thought out before being transmitted will be blocked to ensure against miscommunication. All clear signals containing valuable information will be properly interpreted and be responded to in the same fashion as it is transmitted. Thus eliminating all forms of communication. Do you read me? Over. Okay our next poet is gonna be Craig Cohen Jr. Let's give him a great round of applause. I'm Craig I'm 16 and I just turned 17 a couple of days ago actually the night and my poetry today is gonna be basically around one issue and that's about tobacco because as many of you know if you look at if you go in if you this neighborhood is known for having a lot of different problems in the neighborhood and one of them is tobacco so I'm just telling you this is a whole theme of my poetry today. The first piece it's called transnational tobacco corporations. To shorten that it's TNTs and I'll use the word TNTs so I just want you to know what that means okay. All right it's like this. Tretry against the races of man and all his new sons and daughters never understood until after our deaths none can be turned aside. Ignoring our safety none can deny are these larcenist TNTs our own butchers all from our wealth all from our wealthiest clans of man creating cancerous objects to be sold to kids completely overriding righteous laws for profit I hope it should not be deemed worthy. The next one is is is named camo new ports and Philip Morris. Cancer in and amongst my people a new method of euthanasia of euthanasia of euthanization laboriously sold to Africans native sons of Africa enslaved woe to the families of smokers people's parents otolsans families one one ration of strength the heart and souls of our family. People need to help stop this infection caused by larcenist ill spreading spreading poisons people who view money over people's lives and rights ruled by IR field malignant souls whose names are Morris Reynolds and some others. This is my last one it's I kind of wrote today on a bus here because it was I kind of got inspired it's called what what I did today what I did today today I did something strange I have done something that might be illegal. I went out and put warnings on craft in the Bisco these warnings they say that tobacco is wacko that it is dangerous to kids and adults alike and that craft in the Bisco are owned by the TNT's who lie and cheat and bribe and steal all to make a really big profit. A profit you say is not a man's life but I say smoke will kill all. Thank you. Okay our next port is going to be Abdul Azim. Let's give Abdul a round of applause. The name of my poem is called I am an African boy stolen from Africa. I am an African boy stolen from Africa. I wonder if I can be free from Shaitan. I hear that Shaitan is the most wicked. I see with my Lord sees. I want to touch the freedom. I am an African boy stolen from Africa. I pretend to be nice to mean people. I feel sorry for Africa. I touch freedom. I'm still a slave. I worry about mom out in the college fields. I cry when I see my people wet. I am an African boy stolen from Africa. I understand the riches of my people. I say what is my real purpose on this earth. I dream to be free. Run away. I try to run away but I get caught and then I end up getting wet. I hope I don't get caught next time. I am an African boy stolen from Africa. Let's give Abdul a round of applause. Let's give Abdul a round of applause. All right, all right. Okay. Our next poet, me and this gentleman, we go way back. It is indeed a pleasure to be here. First time celebrating this 11th anniversary with us. Let's give Bernard Williams a great round of applause. Do this little musical poem I did. I put it together about last month. I represent an infinity group founded by one of our local playwrights. You probably know Miss Mary Lee Booker. The music behind it was put together by Carolyn Joseph, who's also a local around here who does a lot of community work. So they kind of inspired me to put this little thing together and I'm going to give it a go and I hope you guys get the message. The name of this piece is Who's the Blame? We should be aware of what's destroying our brotherhood, our welfare. Kids hanging out in one corner, adults on the other. What's up with this? My sisters, my brothers, we complain when our kids act crazy and insane. Then we point the finger at them when they smoke, drink and fight and hang out all night. But you have to admit how many of us grown-ups are doing right. Let's show them that we can do better by doing less negative teaching and more positive preaching between me, between you. There's got to be something, something better, something better for us to do. Oh yeah. There's no fame in this game. Oh Lord, what a shame. Please God help us, help us please, because we're wrong. Stop this fussing and cussing. Let's wake up, not fake up. Let's fess up and clean this mess up. People, let's use these opportunities. And save our communities. There's no fame in this game. Oh Lord, what a shame. God please help us, help us please, because we're all the blame. Please God help, help us please, because we're all, we're all the blame. Let's give Brother Williams another great round of applause. That's all right. I like that introduction. I'm going to do one poem right now and do a later. I'd like to dedicate this to my family right now. Hard is heavy, but I'd like to dedicate this to my family. It's entitled Love is Life. Love is life and life is so very, very nice. When the atmosphere is pleasant and thoughts are peaceful, life for living is like a warm and beautiful feeling touching me, touching new. As I look into the beautiful horizons, I see children playing warm and safe under the leaven eyes of the friendly sky, vivacious, energetic, and so full of life, and love is life. As the wonderfulness of the day settles in, a lovely lady places a warm and very sweet kiss on my lips. My heart has been touched and blessed. This beautiful feeling created by me and you was made to be shared. Always remembering the beautiful days of summer. Love is what we make it and may it always be something beautiful dear in our hearts. Love is me touching you. Love is you touching me. Love is being in touch with each other's feelings. Love is giving, sharing, and caring. Love makes too hard singing harmony. Love makes wedding bells ring. Love brings rain to the flowers and trees and helps them grow beautiful and tall. Love is you and me and a family together. Living for the love this beautiful life has given us. Love is life. Thank you. Thank you. Our next poet is going to be, this gentleman here is a genius. I look at the artwork around here spectacular. When we first came in here last week and I looked, and the first picture that caught my eye was this one here. I'm looking like, wow, this reminds me of Harlem Renaissance. The film were back in the day and you see all the great poets from all over the world, the different centuries. This gentleman here, it is indeed a pleasure to have him as a poet this year. I would like to introduce D'Alo. Let's give D'Alo a great round of applause. I would like to do a tribute to a painting, to one of my paintings. Chinese poet, Li Bai, a 7th century Tang Dynasty poet. The 7th century of the Tang Dynasty represent China's golden age in art and literature. So here's my dedication to Li Bai. Home sickness on a quiet night. Underground before my bed is spread the bright moon. But I take it for the forest. When I wake up, it is the first sight. I look up at the bright moon in the sky as I find my head to each side. That's the Li Bai. There is one victory. I will not swallow it by any labor. So safe. I was drunk all day, lying cautiously at the port in front of my door. When I woke up, I looked into the dark port. A single person was seen. I missed the ball. I asked myself, what season is it? Restless. The royal chatter is in a great way. Moved by its song, I sang again to song. As the morning is there, I feel my own cup, noise in the city, waiting. And when my work is over, all my senses are gone. Poet is going to be Shani. Shani. Let's give Shani a great round of applause. I have two poems that I want to recite. The first poem is called The Eyes of the Mind. And it goes like this. The path of my mind's eye is wrapped around time. Times of growth sedated by thought. An abundance of memory creating a warm and cozy place of your own atmosphere. Only to be recalled at your convenience. The eyes of your mind replay back past times in full view and full color. As if actually seen with your eyes, but eyes become blind when mind speaks. It demands full attention from every part of you. Your mind is a gift from God, the magical mysteries of vision and memory. Giving the ability to dive in and out of time, unconfined. Mentality can lock you up and throw away the key. Well, you want to come up here? Mentality can lock you up and throw away the key, or it can lift you up and make you free. That's it. I haven't seen this book in about a year, so I have to really like it. Okay, and this one is entitled Mentality. Walking around mentally blind, thinking everything is oh so fine. They're so far away from reality. Can't even comprehend this word called morality. Anything this world has to offer, they swallow. Only in a shallow pool do they wallow. If that pool even tries to get deep, to shelter they run, then back to sleep. Sleeping hard with eyes wide open, while their spirituality remains shattered and broken. When the struggle of our people has long been forgotten, they think that the only struggle was in picking cotton. The contributions of our people, they give it no thought. On the auction block of the devil, they've been bought. Invisible shackles from head to toe. Wherever the devil leads, they will go. He makes the wrongfulness of the world seem so right. So that the mentally confused mistake him for the light. In their eyes, he is a star that shines so bright. If you even think about pulling them away, be prepared for a fight. A fight of the righteous and of the wicked. Now is not the time for you to just kick it. Get off your behind and buy your ticket. Thank you. That was beautiful. Let's give her another big round of applause. Okay, our next poet is going to be this young brother. He's been on our program several times. He's a regular. Let's give a gifted young brother too. Let's give a brother Jesse Wilder a great round of applause. Let's give it up for Jesse. Good evening, y'all. I guess y'all can see him sort of like giddy, because all these black folks and white person, you know, we're all together here, you know, it's a good atmosphere. I like this. I have two, and they're both sort of somber, but you have to read more and sue them. The first one's called A Man Outside My Window. There is a man outside my window. Outside he has been, though it's 12 degrees below zero. He has an S on his chest, symbolizing the bravado of a super negro. But he cannot be a hero, you know, like the many we grow up with. Superman, Batman, God. This man stands roughshod, wrinkled in the gas. A ghost amongst the living, sifting through timelines to discover a hidden past. Through plate glass, I see his face as an hourglass. Even Steven, even Steven Wonder could see it. The life in his eyes, you'd have to see it to believe it. He's old but authentic, a bit augmented, but I can see this as intended. The storm has relented, relinquished tranquility, but his soul is stuck in struggle, almost cemented. Being close to him can't prevent this, only make life a little more bearable, make life a lot less terrible, make one's reflection in the mirror a miracle. Outside my window, there'd be a man from long ago. His hair is matted and nappy, but still able to grow. He yearns to speak, but his mouth is slow to open, and I'm hoping his words are great enough to know then I can maybe swim vast oceans of wisdom with them. He is frostbitten, his lashes stutter. They remind me of a loved lawn lover, torn between the arms of a known love, and the legs of another. Another thing has come to mind, but I shan't bother. Must not deviate from the matter at hand, the visual complacency of both the window and the man, who has yet to utter a single syllable that I should under or over stand. Yet I am fascinated to no end, smitten with the river of curiosity flowing within. He's been through hell like comprehend and words cannot begin to say all the feelings which I feel, but then explicit descriptions of him are as fleeting love letters to the wind. This gentleman, invading my very personal private space, cannot be a friend or is he thrown off guard? My defenses are weakened, beaten down to create me a sense of fragility, which before was a mystery. Before me looking be dragged and be dazzled and beyond words stands a man, unkempt, unclean yet hopelessly beautiful. Fearsly in sight, but where snowflakes fall around him, blanketing his peaceful body in a white pure and colorful, running to the window to let him inside, he disappears and I am left with doubt and frustration and anger and tears. Crying madly, sadly left with nothing more than a simple remembrance of my father, the man outside my window. Thank you. All right, this last one is called slavery fighter. Ignorance is my daughter's muse. She attacks the streets full throttle with an angst one can't diffuse. Please excuse all the ill-advised metaphors and anger I must use, yet in order to thwart the evil endeavor, I must command the language of the sad song blues. See, I fight for emancipation from slavery which still exists, so I adorn boxy myths when it's time to hit sin strips, split in lips with numerous lashes of my flaming hot tongue whip, flipping the script on all who oppress, slipping through unequal loopholes in the contract of black and white while I address the minority press and stress the significance of freeing oneself and true happiness, lest we end up freedom-lessed, suppressed and emotionless in physical arrest. Yet it is time that we come our greatest, most challenging test and I must profess that our situation as a people has seemingly become semi-hopeless, fruitless as my brother and my sister shout at their father's funeral which is surreal, for the thought of death is only a figment of the imagination. Ignorance is my daughter's muse. I refuse to dilute an ugly death with joyous ceremony for my own behalf knowing very well half of an ugly death is my fault, my unceasing mental slavery, my incapacity to see, to hear, to comprehend, to sympathize, empathize. I realize now that each and every being is victim to lies which blind and confound the eyes offering ignorance a reprise. It disguises its motives and strong arms its way into our lives and promises to never leave our side. So we must compete with it and destroy it and we must act promptly, intelligently, seek higher ground all the while eluding the hands of danger disrupting the follicem horrors of oppression and go on to question the power that is. Ask why we are being taught such a wicked and violent lesson a slavery fighter we all must be till our wounds are healed and evil has been dispelled and we are set free. Thank you. Let's give a round of applause. Man, that's some heavy stuff. I'm sitting back there thinking I'm listening to Stevie Wonder, a little Marvin Gaye, a little bit of James Brown there, a little Gil Scott here, last poets, Curtis Mayfield, man, huh, don't be so mean. That was great, brother Jesse. Our next poet, this gentleman, this is his first time participating in our program. Let's give Erwin L. McJunkins. Let's give him a great round of applause so he can come up and do some poetry. All right, come on, please. Thank you. I appreciate to be here this evening. I'd like to open up with a poem that I did a few years back. It's called Corinthians. I'm a poet. I come from a distant star in another realm. I come bearing a gift given to me in another place in time. I'm a poet. Playing in the sounds, magicians swirl around. Dancing on rainbows, the sun sends down. I'm a romantic metaphor, skinny dipping in the warmth of a rhapsody. A romancer whose metaphors you've heard before. And I come to you writing the crest of a comet hurled here from a distant star in another realm. I have traveled over continents of space and time through galaxies of infinity. I'm a poet. I'm a poet. I come bearing a gift given to me in another place through galaxies of infinity. Bearing only a gift given to me in another place, another time. I'm just a poet. I come to you like a naked angel writing the wing of a dove. A cherub embracing the innocence of childish laughter. I come heralding trumpets of joy born of a voice from a distant thunder. For I carry cradled in the bosom of my heart a sacred gift. I'm just a poet. I come assault bursting on the horizon like a burning sphere cracking the dawn. I come assaulting the future. Being yet always becoming till time will have no essence. I come to you without selfish want but to share the greatness of this glorious gift nestled in the cradle of my chalice on the on the altar of my tabernacle. A gift warm as a summer's day as pure as the first breath of spring. More precious than fortunes of palace treasures. I come to you before the winds turn my mess excuse me. I come to you before this marvelous jewel is it will heal the wounds of human suffering. The pains and angony of despair will no longer prevail. The desolation of life will cease for it will bring peace and harmony to a tumultuous world. I'm only a poet. I come from a distant star in another realm. I come to you bearing a gift given to me in another place and time. I come to you before the winds turn my vessel to sand. Before my footsteps wash away in the evening of some forsaken shore. Before my journey with the inevitable midnight writer I am merely a poet. I come assaulting I come to you like a morning like a morning like a morning song in the morning. I bring you a gift to cherish forever. I come to you like a song in the morning. Thank you. I have a song I've been wanting to sing. Its lyrics are my life. Love in its glory tells a story. All ears should hear. I have a song for you humanity a symphony of sounds embracing nations of you. If only the if only the notes will come. The melody is in harmony we create. I have my style you have yours. Let's rejoice in the beauty of difference. All flowers aren't the same. They blossom in love and wither away with time. And before they blossom in love and wither away with time. So before we leave this realm let's share a moment. The footsteps we make are the steps we leave behind. And since we've got to believe in something let's believe in love. Yes humanity I have a song for you. Its lyrics are my life. The definitive note is you. The melody is in harmony we create. Remember love in its glory tells a story. All ears should hear. So let's rejoice in the beauty of our difference. Spangling this lifetime like stars in the night that others might sing spring times of our song. That's pretty smooth there man. The love man. Alright Dr. Love is in the house. Alright I'm going to do one more poem and then introduce our next poets. This is a title poem to one of my plays that I wrote. Initially it was the splendor of ghetto suave expressions of a sweet rapper and I just changed it to simply sweet expressions and it goes hey there lovely lady warm beautiful sweet tender sexy sincere and all of them kind of nice things you even more to my heart lady love I've searched all of my life looking for your kind of loving tenderness this beautiful and real oh what is all this sweet love I feel I see it in your eyes I see your love looking through the windows of my world and your smile is a warm and wonderful reflection of the love that's in your heart and when I look into your eyes I find myself saying my goodness alive your lips sure look tasty I'll bet y'all very sweet lady how my chance is very good I hope I'd be proud to be your suave lot baby anytime all the time day and night then we can share the beauty and pleasure of evening walks dance strolling through the park stop under a palm tree dancing in the moonlight so we can kiss and hug and whisper sweet somethings as a warm and lovely summer breeze strums strings from the sweet strings from the tender summer leaves baby you and me together sweet melody magic as our hearts dance in celebration of the beautiful beginning of our love affair hearts touch on this lovely day sweet love smiles now let us listen to the sweet of the falling rain beautiful music to our ears sweet music for our hearts as we dance to love let me do another one because there's I mean that's inspiring to see so many young people here and I want to dedicate this to our young people this is one of my favorites it's entitled young America we need the light people of the world please listen to me I am the youth of America and as the beauty of wisdom unfolds and uses the tools of knowledge and time to begin shaping around our character and personalities let the hands of wisdom hand off the batons of knowledge as generation after generations run the eternal marathons of life let them run into the beautiful horizon spreading the righteousness of life the master plan the way the great creator meant for to be today's youth are tomorrow's leaders let them be groomed and endowed with the eternal fires of wisdom and life as it become knowledgeable with and equipped with the tools to build taking leadership roles today preparing us for tomorrow's world as they positively and constructively affect the qualities of life exerting the necessary direction leadership and guidance so that there may be a better world today and tomorrow for all of us to live in as their thoughts for progression pyramid to the sky touching the sun life source of energy as hearts of desire become inspirational sensations may the wings of life take them in the picture perfect flights as they quest for the dreams of their heart as they endeavor span the universe taking them near and far have no fear my friends for the wings of life will take your hearts and minds of interest journey beyond beyond let us not complicate life's constructed process and become a society of hybrid thinkers trying to rule the universal airways of communication true we need the super minds as the eternal fires of our love desire and inspiration in our hearts that make this world grow thank you thank you our next poet is going to be Leonville this is going to be his first time so let's give a Leonville a great round of applause there first my poem was very short and I just happened to find it but I like to set this poem up and tell you a little story my job sometimes required me to be stationary in a spot and I get a chance to observe the public and the other day I was parked out in front of the library I worked for Project Reed and I got a chance to kind of check people out going by and I happened to see what I call an elderly statesman I happened to see a giant it was a senior he was well dressed maybe six three walking down the street very gray but very distinguished looking very dignified and he had a smile on his face and he made me think about the giant men that were in my family when I was a young kid these were great big giant men who took care of us who many of us know if it weren't for them and for what they had to endure we wouldn't be here today and so looking at that giant I began to realize that we had forgotten about these giant people these men who were six feet tall but to us they looked like they were a hundred feet tall these men who got up in the morning and when it was cold it was much colder because the world that they were working in the world that they were living in these men that gave so much for us to be here today so the next time you walking down the street realize that you may have just stepped in the footprints of a giant a giant that got in here so it was very difficult finding a poem so I found something I thought caught my eye because it reminded me of a good time and a time when these giants were in my life and this is by Lucy Clifford and it's called Good Times my daddy paid the rent the insurance man is gone the lights are back on Uncle Bruce hit for a dollar straight and they is good times, good times my mama made bread grandpa come over everybody's drunk dancing in the kitchen singing and dancing oh these are good times good times, good times oh children think about the good times we're doing our green on us here our next poet is going to be Cynthia Carter Cynthia Carter in the house okay alright I'll do another poem and then we'll go round robin okay this this poem here like coming up once again seeing Dr. King's picture there and what it means to have peace as reflected in some of the earlier poetry tonight this poem was inspired out of Dr. King's vision to see not only peace here in America but peace throughout the world and for people to open their eyes their hearts and minds and develop as long best as possible despite the social and economic condition that touch us and it's entitled and I was telling brother Diallo like this looking at the pictures like look at the pictures as I recite this poem out of the midnight blue as a gentle breeze tames the turbulent winds and the pouring rain then as the rainy clouds parted upon all of the people of the world then eyes of the sky opened and gave us a beautiful day in the sun then people open their eyes with the profound respect for life then people open their hearts and gave love that filled other people's hearts with appreciation for life then people open their minds the reservoirs of wisdom and poured golden knowledge into the mainstream of society as hearts of love and rhythm with life get ready to set sail just as ships of friendship will sail carrying the cargo of love, trust unity, brotherhood, friendship and understanding the rages and seas that mellowed down from the love touch ways tranquility and sweet serenity is the music we hear somewhere someone has said and done something beautiful I've touched upon every shore as my desire to rise to the golden heights inspiration elevated my heart and I sought above every mountain I spoke of unity for all mankind and the skies were peacefully filled in fire in rain in darkness in times of a storm in times of uncertainty I know that there'll be sunshine because somewhere someone has said and done something beautiful thank you I've got Gil Scott Herron over here now let's get Gil Scott Herron back up here again brother Jesse Wiley brother Jesse come back up and do some poetry let's give him a great round of applause I don't want to get on you guys nerves and whatnot but I would do one but I really want to share that's okay with you guys the first is it's called Sentiments yeah to your queen a tasty wonderful delightful avrodesiac of life and love with romantic interludes hidden in between these are my sentiments exactly these are my expressions of desire need and much sought after emotional bliss kiss with intellectual thought provoking terminology full of spirituality really these are my sentiments hopeful romance filled visions of mirth joyful and contemplative words wealthy with the riches of innocence sentiments mine fondly tuned instruments of virtue and imagination galore picture perfect classical arrangements of subjects and predicates designed to expose I to all yes these sentiments are mine they are divine and meaningful elevated thought higher than heaven's plateaus of forever synonymous with beauty and strength and spiritual hearts my sentiments are exactly like God's because I am a God within a God within God and God is love above every other sentiment man may discover really my sentiments are respectful yet sometimes impatient impractical statements of a lover there are other sentiments like the many I hold they are bold interpretations of the magic which I possess and must control I seek to nurture self in order that I may nurture how I feel yet my thoughts are true or true or true really my sentiments are for real my sentiments exactly and uh finally I wanted something by it's not mine it's by this cat named Malik Yousef from Chicago um and it's called uh Trouble Won't Last but I'm saying here I am say line and praying that I am laying something hot cause baby it's cold outside and even when it's not baby shorty's ask me what the deal is now listen so they mom in them cause they know what they talking about like real is I say what shorty desire be what real is and when I first came to her I was still wet behind the ears so I was just the name to her I heard older castley claim to her and say they spit game to her if they never put a name to her so I call her desire like so many street calls that I did for for promises little brothers did this for and little sister sacrificed their heads for even street wise vets wind up dead for see she will attempt to straight pimp you you'll scream freak the world but soon go limp too she proclaims that my steve was way off the rack I had style but it was the catty I am lack with the gangsta white walls and a diamond in the back I asked her was she white or black she said neither one or somewhere in between plus she was mean and had been seen in places where cats got big faces has made some trade in freestyles for free bases I knew that my best friend was meddling but I continued peddling but I got arrested before I got rich trying to make some scratch like a trigger finger that itch she told me she called me an ambulance if I ever called her a witch I tried to be online but the matrix had a major glitch she said my style could never switch I was her nigger for life she said I probably but they could pronounce us man and wife told the script I attempted to flip flop flip flop and the back was known in the back seats thank you thank you brother rap let's give our brother jesse a great round of applause enjoy your young brother rap our next poet is going to be this is her first time participating with us so let's give her a warm welcome Bernie Sanders is going to come up and do some poetry so let's give it up for her I didn't really write it out most of my poetry is unwritten because it keeps rewriting itself I always know the title and it just keeps rewriting itself and it changes with time and I came to the conclusion that I know I don't write alone thoughts come and thoughts just go and I don't perpetuate the thought at all so I know I don't I don't write along one of my favorite title is how deep the silence and I chose that for tonight because it is one of the things that really launched me out like a star from another place and I feel just like that and I believe we're all stars and we are all stars from another place but how deep the silence you know no noise until you have depth with silence silence will teach you what you think you may never have heard there is no silence in silence silence has all the information there is and until it becomes your teacher and it does select you you do not select it how deep the silence within silence will come answers to all of your questions and questions that you have never even asked how deep the silence within silence come many many of those that have gone before my approach to Christ was did you really die did you really leave us with all the sorrow every year to go through every year to rebirth your death and in the silence I heard maybe I did and maybe I didn't but all you know is what you've been presented with how deep the silence and I ask God do you have brothers and sisters did you ever cry do you ever get tired hearing our problems how deep the silence and the response was I am all there is and you are all I am because we are many nothing exists until something has gone before and before it includes everything that is in silence within silence you will hear and feel with your body and with your eyes you need to know words to hear sound and Stevie Wonder can attest to that believe me with no words you can hear light with no words you can hear color you need no words to hear anything that exists with no words you can walk and never be hit by anything how deep the silence because within silence once you have been gripped in silence you will know there is no such thing as no noise because in silence the biggest noise will come and you may never ever want to go into it again once you ever get out of it because how deep the silence is everything you ever wanted to know the other one I will do and it is just the title because it always writes itself and it is just called fear nothing because within fear F E A R there is the word ear E A R and within the ear you hear everything there is nothing to fear when there is fear turn around and go right into it and once you embrace it you will do a dance that you have never done before there is nothing to fear because within fear is the ear and with your ear you hear everything and everything there is to hear will make who you are so whenever you fear turn around and face it and merge with it because there is nothing to fear alright let's give her a round of applause brother Bernard Williams he is going to come up and do another poem for us let's give him a great round of applause I just had this little short poem I was just fumbling through my bag and I had this one little poem this short poem and it's called looking for love I got up this morning looking for love I looked up I looked down I looked all around moments later with no luck I began to frown then I thought what good would that do to turn this smile upside down when you came by I began to focus on you your company was good but still that didn't do when you left you blew like a cold wind then I thought to myself just like love from the heart love comes from within brother Williams break off another temptation walk yeah a little temptation walk here tonight brother brother Patrick Johnson on coming do some more poetry so let's give it up for the Patrick alright I wrote this poem while looking at the woman that raised me and having watched her age over the years and I said boy I bet she sighed a lot when she looked back on some of her memories and some of the people and some of the good times she was born around the turn of the century so I could only imagine what what some of the thoughts may be I wrote this poem and it's called long oh how I longed for yesterday the days of way back when life was carefree fun was around to be had most of which turned out to be sin oh how I yearn for those yester years when I was just a kid I could almost smell the food on the stove who's left that could season or fry a chop like dear old mom did oh how well I can remember going fishing with dad's old cane pole walking back home carrying my catch boy that was some fishing hole yes those days may long be gone but for me they'll always be there to sit and look back on to look back on when I sit and stare I sigh when I long that's long I like to do one more since everyone's doing these love poems I guess I'll do one too it was the the first poem that I did was actually a love poem it was called star of my life the heavens are filled with millions of stars how will I know which star you are is my star near or is my star far how will I know which star you are I feel the warmth of your rays shining on my soul will I find you my star before I grow old oh star of my life will you twinkle and give me a clue or must I spend my lifetime in search of you although you are far I know you are there to see you my star is all that I care to see you my star and to know you exist for the first time we meet we shall share a kiss oh star of my life will you twinkle and give me a clue oh star of my life I live just for you thank you everyone our next poet is going to be uh Luther Vandross uh Luther in my house uh our next poet is going to be uh Sonny uh Sonny's going to come up and do some more poetry and bring down a file down I'm just going to read this one this is um this is called conscience call this is one of the first poems that I wrote it's and here it goes it's this is your conscience calling you I've been trying to reach you but I haven't been able to I don't know but it seems like you've been avoiding me I realize that you have an extremely busy schedule and haven't been able to get in touch with me but I was hoping that you could take out a little time to hear what I have to say first and up most you know I have always been here and will always be there for you I can show you ways that you can instantly become at peace with yourself you can travel to places unconceived by the naked eye visit ancient kingdoms sit in the lap of the comfort of your ancestors the keys are in the pocket of your soul take them out and use them you may use them to their fullest capacity me being your close friend I have always tried to help keep you out of situations doomed for a disaster by penetrating the truth through your mind I will never stand back and watch you destroy yourself that is a promise that I shall keep you indefinitely when your thoughts are clean and clear I feel rejuvenated and refreshed when your thoughts are unclear and unclean I get irritated and can get very bothersome I get irritated and can get very bothersome I just want you to keep in mind that I care a lot about you and I want you to be the best that you can be what have you got to lose it doesn't cost anything remember that I am always here when you need me I'll talk to you again later goodbye as you know this my little son is kind of getting on my conscience right now so let me go back okay our next sport is gonna be brother Erwin L. Johnkins he's gonna come up and do a couple more points for you so let's give him another great round of applause again it's good to be back it's good to be backy this is called Wailing on the Wawa when the Wawa wails west in on ritual rhythms for a soul celebration west winds blow east and the Duke brings his keys along with a quarter of conjuremen to sit in a set you know the kings Curtis and Coltrane Satchmo, Louis and Lee and Jimmy the dead don't die they just rest a while and Ebo princesses dance around the blood of chickens to tams and bones while Emojo goddess caresses the air with a poem and we boogie bojangles on the downbeat when the Wawa wails bluesy notes fall like dew drops of dino singing the difference of dream days and somewhere on a ghetto hill mangled in the middle of a city screaming Buddy and Belinda take time from the pains of society citizenship to see how many sapphires make up a night counting the diamonds it holds and for a while and for a while the whispers of honeydew are softly unspoken after all isn't that what this thing called life is all about and we boogie bojangles on the downbeat the Wawa wails when babies scream from rickets and rat bites from bullets ripping through the guts of youngbloods dancing in the streets from youngsters going into old zones when serpents shoot venom into their veins pacifying their will to live it wails words of hope to men and women hex out behind iron bars for preaching the gospel according to liberty it wails over the body of fallen comrades hoping they did not die in vain but the alpha and omega stands as a mainstay symbol of faith for us to keep on keeping on and we boogie bojangles on the downbeat it wasn't finished I'm sorry when wisdom wails on the Wawa nations of men will rise to the cry while chrysler cries crisis through winds of a guru the true poets will see their work come to bear fruit when voices sing the truth of their prophecies and deaf ears will hear them for people will see truth as knowledge and freedom will blow in the winds and it will touch the lips of all tongues and will boogie bojangles on the downbeat yeah when the Wawa wails wisdom the tar baby will no longer be a Dutch treat and diplomatic thieves will run babbling in the streets and chrysler will cry for by their sorceries all nations were deceived but the deception of these serpents will prevail no longer the truth the evil that lurks within their souls will fall cause wisdom will be well in the hearts and minds of men and women when merchants lose their greatness for they were the power and glory excuse me I'm sorry but when wise men wail the Wawa will be a merger of new nations of crosses with stars and crescents Shango, Dambala and Buddha are united in the mansions of my father's house peace will be on the horizon crescendoing love throughout the land then the pharaohs will abdicate their thrones and will boogie bojangles on the downbeat can I read one more this is called my wish for 2000 I'm not a thug I'm a poet I'm a homeboy of San Francisco I was born in Hunters Point raised in the in the fulmore and Lakeview now I'm living in Lakeview I was raised on fried chicken black eyed peas collard greens red on some weekends we piled into the old Buick and went to a a restaurant in Chinatown I watched my parents go through the I watched my parents go through the tumble dry times of a marriage the 40's 50's and 60's weren't easy years for an African-American family my daddy put in his years as a chipper at the naval shipyard my mother worked for the shipyard and retired as a worker for the naval shipyard for the naval post office like I said the 40's 50's and 60's weren't easy years for a black man and woman trying to raise a family trying to make it in this fair city of the Golden Gate my parents raised my parents raised us five kids at 1244 Oakdale Building 22 Section E four girls and a boy I also have two more brothers in Bescogee, Oklahoma I remember exclaiming with pride the joy of admiration that I had a big brother this is when junior came to see the family after getting out of the army we in fact had a small army of our own my mother and father loved us with a special kind of love I remember my mother holding me in our arms as a baby she called me Mr as a child we worked together on community projects in the 60's she gave me my first collection of Shakespeare in a Webster's dictionary she wanted her son to be somebody I remember in the evening after work my father would sit my father would sit in the big chair and sing gospel hymns out the window I'd sit between his legs and we'd watch baseball games and Jackie Gleason one Sunday while the girls were playing my father sat me on a stool and taught me the whispers of frying chicken but like I said those weren't easy years for a black man and woman they loved each other they loved us but they fought during those times it was hard for a black man and woman to love each other to during that time it was hard for a black man and woman to talk to each other the first time I saw a grown man cry was when my mother left my father she loved him but she couldn't stand for him he hit her I'm telling you I'm not a thug I'm a poet I've graduated from high school and graduated with a and graduated with a bachelor's degree and yes I've performed on the stages of this fair city as an actor I've had I've had I've had I've had epileptic seizures that kicked the shit out of me memory wise but my only wish in life is to love and be loved if there's junk in that well then too bad I've got a song in my heart and rhythm in my soul I've I've lived in apartments and third rate hotel rooms with a writer's block and considering suicide with fear as my best buddy I've been I've been the butt of some new wave joke but I'm telling you now I'm not a thug I'm a poet like Martin Luther King I too have a dream I would like to be internet smart act play music and write and write poetry and plays and direct and direct plays I would like to have my master's degree and be and be business smart in the community no I'm not perfect but tell me in the in the realm of humanity is there such a thing as perfection let's give it up a round of applause and once again thank you for coming out this evening and celebrating our 11th annual Bayview Annie Wadden Poetry Cytals celebrating our national poetry month and once again it's a pleasure to be your host again and we'd like to thank our cameraman Dave for doing a wonderful job we'd like to thank Linda Bricks-Burden for such a wonderful job and I would like all of the poets to come up here and I'd like to personally thank you all Bernard Williams Abdulazim Sonny Craig Cohen Junior Patrick Johnson Jesse Wiley Diallo Leonville Ernielle McJunkins Jesse Wiley Precious gotcha again thank you again until we meet again next year thank you and good evening alright thank you for all coming out there's food and refreshments