Erasure Poem

Posted February 15, 2011 & filed under Notebook.

Walk alone

Cannot turn back

will you be satisfied?

Can never be satisfied

horrors, brutality

can never be satisfied

cannot vote

no, no

not satisfied

some have come fresh from narrow jail cells

with that

go back

go back

go

go back

go back

can and will be changed

face the difficulties

my friends

a dream

created equal

transformed into an oasis of freedom


By Monica, 9th grade

With words from “I Have a Dream” by Dr. M. L. King

There’s a Harlem Renaissance in my Head

Posted February 20, 2008 & filed under Notebook.

7100pthe-harlem-renaissance-posters.jpg

The trombones slap me in the face with their high-life beats and the piano’s glamorous tunes tap me on my shoulder and whisper in my ears. As I look down into the Juke-Joint from my bedroom floor, rotted house, rotted life, plain rotten, seems forgotten as the music plays and the beats go down to the same rhythm of my heart’s pound, there’s a Harlem Renaissance in my head, there’s a Harlem Renaissance in my head.

Through the floor a light where the music roared, overtakes the darkness that surrounds me as I look through this floorboard. I can see the hoppin’ and a dancin’ and the suave men a prancin’ around the young ladies who stand stunning on the floor….

The music stops, the poet stands up, and with each turn of the page he demonstrates, as his mind’s thoughts he will emancipate, and everybody in the room he will captivate. His pen his only weapon in which injustice he must irradiate. As I look down into the Juke-Joint from my bedroom floor, rotted house, rotted life, plain rotten seems forgotten as the music plays and the beats go down to the same rhythm of my thoughts pound, there’s a Harlem Renaissance in my head, there’s a Harlem Renaissance in my head.

Let your ink run rampant, Langston Hughes. Let your fingers tickle the ivories forever, Duke. At every moment history being make in my own personal Juke-Joint. I lean my ears to hear ever closer and find my mind in a past tense, opening my eyes to see beauty, but surrounded by pure silence. There’s a Harlem Renaissance in my head, a Harlem Renaissance in my head.

by Maurice, 12th Grade