Shawntaye, is a writer from north of Pittsburgh. While in college, she was an editor-in-chief of the campus s Literary Magazine. She edited the magazine for three years which always produced well-received issues. Currently I am a Research Associate for the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center.
Mudslide (dedicated to the Katrina victims)
Infected mud slides against our skin
As everything we own and love sinks,
Including our friends, animals & kin,
Floating away mercilessly into water.
This land of the free used nature
As a forced, physical mechanism
To demolish our being and culture
Because we're shaded like earth's soil.
They had a secret agenda in place
While using God's name in vain,
Stating it was his will to rid the land
Of the evil heathens darker than blue.
Our lives, our beings, our souls
Meant nothing, were worth nothing,
They let us drown, die and suffer,
Laughing inside at our lives' expense.
The varied hues of black and brown
Are equated with anything devilish,
Problems due to our presence there were
Necessary to be washed away forever.
Sewage, personal belongings and bodies
Colored the gushing floodwaters brown,
Matching the skin tones of my people,
Suffering as tortured, helpless prisoners.
Mudslides of various kinds slid against us
Illuminating the harsh reality we face,
It took Katrina for the world to realize
W're not considered American citizens.
Cypress Whispers
The gray columns reflect
The cypress's shadow
Of misery and angst
Upon its sunlit marble.
Pleasant memories haunt
The tree's tainted bark
Of brutal injustices done
Beneath its atmosphere.
Unforgotten spirits swim
Around the cypress's trunk
Validating the soft murmurs
Of the cypress's whispers.
Heavenly Glisten
The delicate wings in my hands
Blow in a southerly direction
Leading my body to direct
My feet to pace downward.
The gusty wind blows again
Disturbing my jaded mind
Forcing tears from my eyes
To evaporate on my face.
The teardrops then manifest
Magically changing into wings
Flying into the atmosphere
Lifting my spirit from below.
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