a renaissance for the new millennium

here is

a renaissance

for the new millennium;

now is a time of literary finesse.

ours is the time

for new paths to be blazed,

a time for palpable ideas

to be raised.

we contemplate the

future that lies

with our next generation.

we question the choices

of our past,

and criticize the errors

that have brought us to

this place of turmoil.

a renaissance,

a new millennium,

a consciousness of grand proportion.

we press pen to paper

and social awareness is revived.

we debate

the topics to which

blind eyes had once been turned.

we answer the questions

of ages gone by,

and set the tone for those who

sit in silence, teeming with anticipation.

our renaissance.

our millennium.

our consciousness of grand proportion.

sharpen the blade

of intellectuality,

and let its acuteness

and accuracy

run us through

until the blood of truth

flows freely from our minds.

then, let the wounds of incivility

be healed by the power of commonalities.

now is the time of literary finesse.

there are new paths to be blazed,

and fathomable ideas that need to be raised.

a renaissance.

a new millennium.

a consciousness of grand proportion.

behold: a renaissance

for the new millennium.

copyright  2008  blackstarr

Rolled outta bed and picked up the paper,

And, some chick claims that Kobe tried to rape her.

Didn’t want to hear it, so I turned the radio on,

And, some fool tried to tell me that Luther was gone.

I turned that off, and decided to watch TV –

No comedy, no drama, just some dumb*ss reality.

I went for a walk so that I could clear my head,

And “Assume the position!” is what he said.

He let me slide because he knew he was wrong,

Along came a junkie with a dance and a song.

I gave him two quarters and sent him on his way,

But here comes my ex – please, Lord - not today!

I ducked into a store (” you gotta keep it all hid”),

And found myself staring at a stick-up kid.

By now, I’d had it, I’m talkin’ way up to here,

So, I grabbed the young boy by his newly pierced ear.

The pain was so awful that his knife hit the ground,

I said “Yeah, that’s what’s up, son – See you around.”

Newspaper, television, radio, and such,

I really didn’t think I was asking that much.

You can’t win for losing, it’s just like they say;

It took all that I had in me just to keep ‘em at bay.

In case you still don’t know that this ain’t no drill,

I’m tellin’ you, my friend, this $*#t  is for real!

copyright  2005 blackstarr

(revised 2008)

it was called the Great migration. 

there was no other documentation noted anywhere else in American history.  millions of African Americans descended  upon the northern United States.  the images of plenty urged this grand people towards New York, Boston, and Philadelphia.  no area, however, held a sweeter promise than the negro capital, Harlem. Harlem was a place of promise, artistic birth, buffets of sensual  delights, true-to-life blues, and dreams made and broken.

the wordsmith, carrying the torch forLangston Hughes, Claude McKay, and so many other talented written artists, officially opens Jo Jo's with a light stroke of his pen.  enjoy!

as i recall  (part one)

  as i recall,

when i first set foot

in jojo's,

i thought

the world was mine.

my mind drifts to words that

should never have been,

words that

i had put to pen,

but  . . . that was my way back then.

it was the proverbial

“smoke-filled room”,

where unknown talents came to groom;

a place where men and women met their futures

and ofttimes met their doom.

as i recall, at twenty-one,

the rhythm was fast,

and the women were faster.

the beat was steady,

much like

the drinks that flowed.

i was young and

recklessly bold,

so i was told,

or more precisely, reprimanded

for being just so.

i was destined to be

the next e e Cummings,

i was the new and improved Claude McKay.

hell . . . i was Langston Hughes on steroids!

i was hot, and it was echoed in my stride.

that’s what i recall.

she was a sultry siren,

singing her songs of seduction.

she sang of longings,

of life,

with the lilt of her lyrics

lingering

like Love's perfume.

her voice was sweet,

but, her words were filled with tears.

her eyes met mine.

it was at that very moment that i knew

that love could never be sweeter.

she blessed,

i blushed.

she swayed,

as i turned a delicate shade of lust.

the sensuous lady soul;

the mistress of song;

the reason for the beat of my heart.

but,  jojo's was also the place

where dreams were sold,

where lies were told,

where the young could quickly become the old.

 . . . at least as i recall.

copyright  2008  blackstarr