This
is not a test
you will pass
it’s the only
exam you get
a no-grade final
hate to be
the bearer of
bad reminders
but
nobody’s gonna make it
outta this class
alive
see
you act like
you in control
runnin’ thangs
like you got time
to do it all later
like just know you got
next week
tomorrow
thirty minutes
from now to
visit
call
profess love
be with who you love
lend a hand
work things out
act right
backtrack to git it right
forgive
apologize
enjoy what
and who
there is to enjoy
say and do
what’s in your heart
you spend
most of your
class time
livin’ for them
not for you
doin’ what
they say you should
cuz hey
they know what you need
like
want
better than you
cuz they think
they qualified
to run
yo' thang
like they got time
to do you
and
them
but this class
is for learnin’
’bout who we are
what makes us tick
gittin’ the happy
we all deserve—
our way—
for growin’ into our best
addin’ joy
not stress
to the lives of others
so that when class
is dismissed—
whatever time that is—
and we turn our life in
on the way out
we can say
we got all
the answers right
for ourselves
but don’t squander
away these minutes
kicked back in your chair
thinkin’ you can
just
make this test up
later
tick
tock
you act like
you got time
but you can’t
see
the clock
©2012 Charlene E. Green
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
PROFILE
Maybe
it’s
not always time for
Basketball Wives
True Blood
Dancing with the Stars
or
the 11 o’clock news
not
always time
to
click “Like”
become
entrenched in a
72-comment
conversation
on
Facebook
to
debate & protest
upload
risqué
bathroom-mirror
pics
or
flood the News Feed
with
virtual celebration
about
Kobe’s 17th
3-pointer
tonight
When’s
the last time
you
debated the deception
your
head has
you believing?
got
you wedged in relentless
unsavory
life patterns
questioning
your sanity
spinning
in a splintered cycle
Maybe
it’s
time to ask “why”
of
your substandard conditions
protest
your shortage of answers
ponder
your own fate
lament
less for others
not
that they aren’t important
but
if you deplete
your
energy on them
what's
left for you?
Or
maybe that’s your point
Maybe
it’s
time to visit
with
your shadow
find
out how it feels
about
trailing behind you
in
your eternal state of flux
ask
if it’s tired
of
watching you stumble
and
being dragged along
on
your rutted journey
apologize
for wild-goose chases
for
not giving better directions
invite
it to lead for a bit
so
you can
rewire
your GPS
Maybe
it’s
time to watch
your reality show
it’s
on right now
all
day
the
real
you
unstaged
in
need of your dominance
but
you’re on mute
cuz
you’re bored
confused
about the plot
afraid
of the conclusion
Maybe
it’s
time to “Like”
your
own
interests & opinions
comment
on your
behavior
upload
mental pics
of
your ambitions in fruition
unfriend
your ego’s drivel
friend
your higher self instead
star
in your own life
out-perform
yourself
make
your shadow proud
to
have you as its leader
Maybe
it’s
time
to
update your profile
offline
Copyright 2012
Charlene E. Green
PERSPECTIVE
I’m thinking about
the fact that I wanna do better
but who’s to say that better isn't
what I'm doing now?
I frequently want more from myself
without being thankful for all that
I accomplish
endure
figure out
and
keep myself from doing
I could be telling this story
from a women's correctional facility
for smashing a head
thru a car window
during a wrangle
potentially deadly
for him
I was incensed
He won’t get out of my car
I need him out
our contempt is monstrous
so I let myself go there
let him take me there
make me snap like brittle bones
under pressure of seething
I'll make him get out
open the door for him
then he'll know
I mean business
get the fuck out of my car
where you’re spitting in my face
with all the disrespect your lungs
can hock up
bullet-filled verbal phlegm
you shoot
perforating me with enough holes
to spurt revulsion I only see in movies
not in my own life
get
out
and I accidentally brush
my arm against his chest
reaching for the door
blaze in his eyes
ireful black man
do you see him
losing control?
then he pushes my forearm
with both hands
before the door opens
and growls: “Don’t touch me!”
but since he's burly
and a 5-alarm fire
push feels like martial art
Chuck Norris on my extremity
then I transmute
into something lethal
now I belong in the wild
among beasts who kill to survive
not in my car
with this man
& four inches
separating our bodies
now we're here:
low-grade domestic violence
when all he had to do was get out
after the first request
now I'm ready
in ways I've never imagined
cuz titanic wrath
has gorged all the good in me
now I wanna kill him
with one thrust of his head
thru my passenger-side window
and I can do it
I'm consumed with yearning
adrenaline inebriated
now all bets are off
bets I don’t even know I’m in on
until now
you think you know yourself
your limits
until all your sensibilities
are drowned in odium
and in three seconds
I see my crime
my lunge
at his head
glass erupting
blood spattering
mutual gut-wrenching roars
his death
bedlam on avenue
in front of his father’s home
Wait
think ...
you can’t kill this man
a hundred feet from his father’s door
over heated words
and a push
it won't be self-defense
it'll be self-sabotage
gather your senses
no
the only killing that'll take place
is of my temper
there'll be no bloodshed
blood on my hands
out-for-blood relatives of his
gunning for me
my head
in courtrooms
or worse
in the streets
suppress your fury
see past this moment
and save two lives
you're not a murderer
you’re just mad
“GET … THE FUCK … OUT!”
And finally he's out
and we're both safe
cuz I did better than I wanted to
And there's no next time
I make sure of it
There's no better that you can do
in this world
than to spare a life
when seconds from taking it
In hindsight
I’ve decided that
thus far
I’ve already done my best
Copyright 2012
Charlene E. Green
the fact that I wanna do better
but who’s to say that better isn't
what I'm doing now?
I frequently want more from myself
without being thankful for all that
I accomplish
endure
figure out
and
keep myself from doing
I could be telling this story
from a women's correctional facility
for smashing a head
thru a car window
during a wrangle
potentially deadly
for him
I was incensed
He won’t get out of my car
I need him out
our contempt is monstrous
so I let myself go there
let him take me there
make me snap like brittle bones
under pressure of seething
I'll make him get out
open the door for him
then he'll know
I mean business
get the fuck out of my car
where you’re spitting in my face
with all the disrespect your lungs
can hock up
bullet-filled verbal phlegm
you shoot
perforating me with enough holes
to spurt revulsion I only see in movies
not in my own life
get
out
and I accidentally brush
my arm against his chest
reaching for the door
blaze in his eyes
ireful black man
do you see him
losing control?
then he pushes my forearm
with both hands
before the door opens
and growls: “Don’t touch me!”
but since he's burly
and a 5-alarm fire
push feels like martial art
Chuck Norris on my extremity
then I transmute
into something lethal
now I belong in the wild
among beasts who kill to survive
not in my car
with this man
& four inches
separating our bodies
now we're here:
low-grade domestic violence
when all he had to do was get out
after the first request
now I'm ready
in ways I've never imagined
cuz titanic wrath
has gorged all the good in me
now I wanna kill him
with one thrust of his head
thru my passenger-side window
and I can do it
I'm consumed with yearning
adrenaline inebriated
now all bets are off
bets I don’t even know I’m in on
until now
you think you know yourself
your limits
until all your sensibilities
are drowned in odium
and in three seconds
I see my crime
my lunge
at his head
glass erupting
blood spattering
mutual gut-wrenching roars
his death
bedlam on avenue
in front of his father’s home
Wait
think ...
you can’t kill this man
a hundred feet from his father’s door
over heated words
and a push
it won't be self-defense
it'll be self-sabotage
gather your senses
no
the only killing that'll take place
is of my temper
there'll be no bloodshed
blood on my hands
out-for-blood relatives of his
gunning for me
my head
in courtrooms
or worse
in the streets
suppress your fury
see past this moment
and save two lives
you're not a murderer
you’re just mad
“GET … THE FUCK … OUT!”
And finally he's out
and we're both safe
cuz I did better than I wanted to
And there's no next time
I make sure of it
There's no better that you can do
in this world
than to spare a life
when seconds from taking it
In hindsight
I’ve decided that
thus far
I’ve already done my best
Copyright 2012
Charlene E. Green
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