Category: poems

Written by Regina Duggins April 28th, 2011
If you come another minute it might be too late
So, be on time because
Another minute you just might be too late
I been through the storms and the rain;
I‘ve even experienced some heartache and pain
But as long as you remember to be on time and don’t be late
I can see why another minute would make you late
I have a bus to catch, a train already delayed,
and a car that ain’t going my way
Can you please understand that?
Another minute and you just might be too late!
I ain’t flying off on a jet plane or even an airplane but
If you are not on time, you will be another one who was
Just a minute too late to catch up with me today!
I have passed the cruise ships on my way
And even waved at the naval base but they weren’t
Going my way, so I just decided to walk through the town
I wasn’t late but one more minute and you will be late!
Walking alone with a smile turned up sided down into a frown
I don’t have time to stop, sit, or even stare because my plate is
Already full with someone not being there
When everyone could have been on time
But no one chose to be here;
So, why are you mad? ; when anyone
Could’ve walked off down the street with me!
So as I tell you again don’t be late
Because a minute might already be too late!

I have something for you
Even though you haven’t asked
I give you this to sleep with
Until your pain has passed

It is something special
Or so it seems to me
I offer it so rarely
But I always give it free

Keep it close, keep it safe
Guard it from all harm
Think of it when you’re alone
And it will keep you warm

When you know it’s value
You will reaffirm your own
Then you will turn to Thank me
But Oh too late,
I’ll be Gone

Suns shines on this city
As if it had been built in the clouds
Is that why Hell’s the limit instead of the sky?
We holy city kids
So, of course, called angels then
But some of them angels from then
Are grown demons now
If a mother’s tears were gold
Well, this city has made a fortune
How many graves have bloomed, how many bodies have fallen
Deep…down in the dungeons
With no release
Cold city but hot streets: exit, exist, or cease
But God gave us a way, which I truly believe
Would clean and nurture this city
Most naturally
If everyone helped the next to plant their seeds
We’d grow our city from dreams into reality.

a romantic dinner for myself
rosebuds, candle standing on the table,
not to woo but just for flavor
run my finger around my wine glass
but I can’t make that sound come out
can’t make sweet music together

But watch this neat trick
I say to no one, alone in my room,
and rip the cloth off the table
and break all the plates on the floor
the spaghetti that was supposed
to lead to our first kiss,
starting at different ends,
is now twisted all up.

the flower petals on the floor
lead nowhere at all.

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Nine souls taken, they were not lost. What’s the value of a life? What is the cost?
Gone, because of their skin hue
nine. souls. taken.
Sat with them while his rage continued to stew. Cut each of them down, their lives gone too soon. Nine souls taken. After sitting and sharing the word, slaughtered, mercilessly while their pleas for life were not to be heard.
Flowers remain, memories retained, the hurt is still the same. The month is December, the end of the year, a cold chill exists on Calhoun street,you can still feel the fear.
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Her afro, black, curly
Sunshine bright,her smile too
Succes her greatest tool

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Like, ABCs or 123s, and not to be so elementary but I wanna write you little paper love notes like
Check yes or no if you love me, I just want a clue,
and then I’ll write back that I love you too.
Because, what is my we without you, the answer to that is to live a life I no longer wish to go thru.

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Thoughts in the middle of the night, use to come and cause me fright. But thoughts of you gives me the will to fight. Her words, resonate to my deepest thoughts, the light where there use to only be dark. The Brown eyed beauty shall always have a place in my heart.

An excitement fills the air …
Preparing to celebrate
The promised Messiah
Our Savior.

As we wait,
Knowing we will celebrate His birth
Two thousand years ago,
At the same time
Expecting His second coming.

Joy fills my soul.

We welcome the Christ child,
Remember His birth
Still filled with expectancy
As we know He will come again.
Overwhelming joy,
An expectancy that never ceases.
What joy we shall have when our wait is done.

I’ve been shot…
by a man I’ve never met.
He put his pistol to my chest
Bringing back flashes of blue and red lights
I’ve seen before
as I passed out on the concrete floor,
trying to look passed his shades
to get a glimpse of his soul
but the sole of his shoe
was forced into my holy temple.

He wrapped his injustice,
around my wrists,
his hate around my neck,
and stripped my identity
from my back pocket.
You see he’s never met me before
but he’s seen my face
countless times on the TV screen
as he drives by my house waiting to see
if I would reach for the stereotype
he’s placed in front of me.

He’s seen my nappy-headed hair
on front of the magazines
he’s seen my brown-eyes
downsized by hate crimes and white privilege.
I’m forced to compromise.

You see, we’ve known each other for quite sometime
but this time I cried as I laid
In a pool of my black blood and black pride.

Momma warned me
this day might come.
“Keep your hands on the wheel, son.”
“Keep calm and breathe, son”
“Keep your attitude in check, son”
Momma, I did everything you said to do,
“Officer, I can’t breathe!”
“Officer, my hands are up!”
“Officer, I have a family to feed!”
but he shot me…
My body naturally resisted
this expected occurrence of black existence.

It is now 12:35 am, July 5th, 2016.
I have finally become
an official victim of a global genocide.
This nation will continue to divide
until you find the meaning in my life and death.

I’ve been shot
by a man I’ve never met,
yet I finally figured out
what it means to be
Black in America.

I go within myself searching for the purest place.
Untainted, unharmed by the toils of life.
I listen closely to hear the beat of my heart.
The strength of my diaphragm pacing the inhales and exhales
that stretch my lungs.
I travel farther into my psyche to discover when I came to this place.
This world of longing, searching for the missing puzzle piece that completes
this jigsaw.
Upside down conundrum that I chose to light my path.
My reason for living.
I wait for the jolt, the life awakening jolt, like penetration meeting
the squish sound of the ready orifice
Sweetly welcoming the electric,
The magnetic,
Swell of pulse.
Hopefully leading me down a more determined path of destiny.
Yellow brick road, not of mythical Oz, but my no place
like home.
Rhythmic steps familiar to me because this is home.
I go within myself calling, listening for the voice, my voice, that
I silenced to chase a dream that was not mine.
A path that was lit by dim stars.
Not my destiny, not my truth.
I go within myself seeking my kingdom where I am queen.
Sitting on my throne.
Ready to reign.
My destiny, my voice, my truth.
The path lit brilliantly with the stars created for me.
Great solar brilliance warming the cold iciness of my core.
I emerge from within myself renewed by my travels from the
ejaculated seed that merged with the ovum in complete
wholeness, nurtured in the womb of my brilliance.
Radiantly standing
Illuminating in my knowledge that a queen is never broken.
She simply cocoons.
Fascinating onlookers with her powerful ability to command rebirth.

Toni Parnell
© 20 April 14

“Black Face”
-(for Paige Shoemaker)

Don’t apologize to me for your mockery of God
Your Lord and savior Jesus Christ already knows your heart
Despite your blatant ignorance,
He in turn awarded you forgiveness for your repentance
And then….
… called him nigga

Don’t be taken aback

You have always prayed to the nigga
When the cotton needed to flourish
When your offspring required nourishment
Whenever you seeked entertainment or a fresh body to torment
Nigga was always there to answer your prayers

Yet you have the audacity speak a nigga’s name in vain
Blasphemy, to believe you could hide your face from God
By painting it the same color as your soul
That your jokes aren’t the headliners for Satan’s sideshow
And your false sense of security on social media deserves our pity

Its easy to say”It feels good to finally be a nigga,” until they get a nigga good
Whisper that into the ear of fallen king and wait for a smile
Witness John’s vision of the Book of Revelation in
Michael Brown’s blood, shimmering under the seven stars and street lamps
Like the Son of God himself, prosecuted before the masses only to
Rise again in a flash of hashtags and post mortem glory

Don’t apologize to me for your mockery of God
For He, like every nigga that I know….
….knows a bigoted heart

I don’t even know where to begin…that’s how dope SHE is
Not to get into some deep sh*t or to be facetious but to describe SHE would take more than a thesis
See it’s the way SHE sees sh*t…not your typical lady
SHE told me SHE’s a unicorn and I believe it…it’s crazy
When SHE does what SHE does I stare in amazement
At the mystery of this amazing sensational lady
It makes me want to show her off to the universe
Yet conceal her and make any intrigued groups disperse
For what it’s worth I know SHE would be good for me
For we’d mesh like the tongue on my new sneaks
We’d both keep it 1K like 2 G’s. One day. You. Me.
SHE makes me melt when SHE grins at me
The thoughts I get when SHE speaks to me have got to be a sin at least
I feel like I’m rambling see….That’s what SHE does to me
Like the words I speak aren’t enough for SHE
But I’m dope with words so I’m sure this will cheer her up at least
I can see myself falling in love with SHE
Because I know she’s more than enough for Me…



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