THE POWER OF A BLACK WOMAN

This is a tribute in remembrance of my mother Sabriah Rahimah. Her spirits rests and lives on with us and through us.

Beautiful Black Woman Hold your head high
You’ve got the looks of Gold
and the actions that can make grown men cry
Those who see you in a crowded room are excited
Those who watch your stride are delighted
But those who see you but don’t really know you are misguided
Where did you get your confidence?
God knows you’ve got plenty of sense 
Your stride speaks of sophistication
Knowledge oozing from every pore
Turning heads everywhere you go
Men grin from ear to ear with pure elation
Truly a woman of God’s creation

The world would wait on her had in foot
Yes she doesn’t seem to know
She’s looking for her people’s security
She wants the respect due her
For her children to be able to fulfill their needs
In this black woman is where confidents breeds

Beautiful Black Woman you were created whole
An equal partner to the throne
Limitless in your treasures
Supporting the man of God to his place of divinity
Brining humanity to her place of serenity
Your strength cannot be matched by anyone
Your commanding position from THE ONE
I am on the path supporting your knowing
Seeing your ocean of true worth growing
You are a Goldmine fearless and free
Wearing the many hats of a Queen
This is the way you are to be seen



Written by Tamu Watkins © 1998
all rights reserved
FEELING THE VIBES


Feeling the vibes…
Riding the ebb and flow of big waves
Trying to keep a harmonic perspective

Purple’s and plums- teals and twilight blue swirls
A meditation igniting passionate- intentions

Streetlights at midnight highlighting the scene
Bright greens and red lights
Showing the colors of agitation
Begging for release
Street walkers and dancers too drunk to keep a rhythm
Finding a steady stream among the Navy Men coming to shore
Lending their hats for kisses

Women winking and nodding
Enticing them to loosen their buttons on their wallets
Brilliant sexy sounds of horns playing
Miles Davis and Santana doing a duet – playing smooth jazz
The free style sounds of hills clicking and blings chiming in the background
All pieces of an ensemble expressing a tailor made fibers
Tightly woven and made to order…

Feeling the vibes
Standing in line looking through the window of a night club
VIP restricted
Hoping your pass will get you in the door
Seeing cross dressers and want-to-be’s
And I’m simply sitting in the background taking in the scene 
Using my laptop wondering…
Should I write the stories?

Seeing those victimized by their imaginations and trapped dreams
Using the fantasies…

The emergency breakthrough of the situation is a response to take notice
A complicated repetition just to keep their daily’s together
Hiding behind and orthodox prescription of medicine
A dealer disguised in collars
Hiding behind dickering prayer beads and a
BLACK SCREEN

The congregations too bind to take notice of a crack dealer
So they hand over their hard earned income and potential as keys
To follow a HEADLINE- telling of a FAÇADE not allowing them to talk

Choose a medicine to keep your daily’s
While I’ve found familiarity among levels
Diversifying a confused conversation
Rendering ridiculous a packaged prescription
Club- Hoppers and waiters- serving and waiting
As the manikin in the window 
Hoping to get their face on the page of any magazine
As the model for 5 minutes of fame…

These are the want-to-be’s in line with me
Holding a sign reading VIP
Hoping to get their place in the nightclub
for a glance at their rivals
Perhaps some producer who would take a chance on their makeup
See the emergency breakthrough of the situation
It’s a response to take notice!!!

Creativity expressing a rhythm in tightly woven fibers
Seeing the patters in the pictures
Pieces of a poetry ensemble seeing the finer things
A vibrant color rendition igniting passionate dreams
Dancers wearing- clicks and jewel blings
In the background playing out exotic musical scenes
Instigating the release of a passionate intention…


 
Written by Tamu Watkins © 2007 all rights reserved
Gibberish & Poetry



You know what I like about poetry?
You can speak about nothing and its good sounding
We get to freestyle with nonsense
and emphasize it as if it made sense
That's Gibberish & Poetry…

Saying stuff like you know what I mean!
Just to get to the ending
I'm just sharing some rhythm sounds
to relax your mind
Not to think about it so much
but soothe & caress the lines
No need to understand it- it's a concept of gibberish

It aint that serious!!!

I see my tendency to procrastinate
as to chill a bit from Big Shit
Pride just going to fall so I don't worry about it
Trying not to wobble too much when I walk
Or spit bubbles when I talk- because....
THAT'S embarrassing to me
And I can reach back in my memory for a remedy

See at times none of the STUFF makes any sense to me
And I don't think my genie is working
Can't find no bottle to put it back- but Jack Daniels
And he's behind the bar sleeping
Holding I sign up saying I'll be right back
Like he's the VIP

I'm seeing a fish story re-surfacing
Remembering my juju from the bean stock
Feeling a flavor from 'days gone bye'
Reminding me not to fall in the bug bag of things
But share the stories as poetry

I see a mixed message in these stories
And sometimes it's goofy & funny
So I just tell it as Gibberish & Poetry




Written by Tamu M Watkins © Copyright February 2007


POETRY PAGE
P
O
E
T
R
Y
I SPIT


BLAH- BLAH- BLAH!
I SPIT
I have no choice because you’re in my head again
I’m on my walk
Walking the streets of big cities
Seeing what’s going on
I have no idea where this is going but I’m looking

See I people watch and I’m puzzled
Seeing the expressions on faces sharing just words
Words that fill up my artist pages
See guaranteed we spit what’s given

Hearing words like Bitch and Nigga fashioned into endearments
Their pet names
I wonder if I can say that or have I been placed in that box? 

Walking into a nightclub
I listen to comedians spiting the conflicts the world depicts
Like how often can we possibly be?
Be on the same page at the same time accept in the bubbles of our minds
In this coming of diversity I still wonder

Can I say that?
Nigga
Am I the right color?
See my son asks me that all the time…
This may not be politically correct
But I dare to hold a different view point 
I say diversity still coming because we have yet to fully embraced that
Diversity is an artist gift
I spit

The powers that be feel they have given
Rendering the world retarded
Conflicted contradictions of our minds
Sports would not be sports without the possibility of sex
Walking the stage at half time
But at Super Bowl, remember… 
The media took a chance again at headlines
This time that particular girl takes the fall ok
It’s simply again for the rating- get it
We decided that didn’t we?

As I unravel and unwind
America is the channel I’m watching
Sometimes it’s like watching a horror fiction
You get stuck on watching the bloodshed and madness
I have no idea where this is going but I’m looking

I take a coffee break at times from that among the crowds
I see fat woman wearing a designer’s fantasy of ridiculousness 
They should be shot for that…

The designers

I wonder can I say what I’m thinking?
Sometimes I gazuntite
For the thoughts I have as people pass me bye
I spit… and… I wonder…
What will you think when you hear these words
I figure something takes over people rendering them stupid
So then I ask again
How often can we possible be?
Be on the same page at the same time except in the bubbles of our minds
But the powers that be have given
And we are left with conflict
These mixed messages to unravel

All I see is life expressing
So I spit
It’s an artist’s gift
Creativity
People talking and playing for my canvas…







Written by Tamu Watkins © copyright 2008 


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Crazy déjàvu


Go tell the love Dr.
I change my mind
It’s driving me insane
Crazy déjàvu
I’m backing off with and attitude

I think somebody borrowed something blue
Wedding bells started ringing
His shifty eyes saying that he’s mine
Only knew him for a minute…

Go tell the love Dr.
Crazy déjàvu
I change my mind 1000 times

I know you know
And you know- I know- you know
Stinky feet like cheetos???

Backing me in a corner
Proclaiming his love sickness
This crazy déjàvu 
I’m backing off with and attitude

I wasted my time
No way is you mine
Cray déjàvu
I changed my mind 1000 times



Written by Tamu Watkins © copyright September 2008


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Bringing A United Vison

Justice

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