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Minds-n-Motion
This is where we display the work of affiliated and non-affiliated artists who are looking for a forum for their work to be showcased. It could be short stories; poetry; sketches; paintings; clothing design or any artistic expression that generates popular interest. And, best of all we do it at no cost to you (offer subject to change) and of course you retain exclusive rights to your property.
Sumbit your work to be featured on our site!
I walk into a crowded room
Filtered throughout the Universe echoes voices, sounds of different frequency, messages left undelivered on a personal level Left to the resounding waves carrying messages code-able and uncode-able, text messages, emails the silent of voices to the chatter , white noise, clicking , pecking and speed typing … punching in a graphic symbol Representing the idea, the idea, the idea minus the voice only the sound of the pecking keyboard. The white noise, the sound wave, the speed of sound, the air waves, the sound now recreated in your head of the voice no longer there to hear in it originality only the silent thoughts, the thoughts, can you remember the voices, the voices whether deep , melodic , harsh, even keeled where are the Voices can anyone still hear the voices the cries, the laughter, the messages ……………………………………………………Sounds of pecking sufficing for the voices which are now on their way to extinction !
Intrigued By SaSa When was he here, why? Intrigued, was I not observant, was it dinner Intrigued! Who is this (Yawo)Ogun … What does he bring, in his essence to the mix? Intrigued! I see the smile, hear the voice, touched his body. Toy with ideas of pleasure, Ideas of pleasure, who is this Ogun? A man of wisdom, caring, strength, character, family… Where are his boundaries, Intrigued. Did you say Fun….emotionless Fun, meticulously thought-out Fun...? Tantalizing long running moments, hours of stolen fun of connectedness, a chat, a look at the trees, a ride, a walk on the beach/a breeze, a meal together, alone among many a brief touch in passing a hand against my back, a stroke or twist of hair. A massage stoking all parts of him mentally and physically Fun Pleasure… Requested Company, Who is this Ogun ? Which portal opened? Alone, Intrigued! Beside, on, under, in me, Intrigued! Kisses that enticed the gods of honey. Gifts of frankincense, myrrh, gold ,cowries , and more so much more all befit this descendent of African kings…Moving slowly toward this unknown destination, surprises like scent anew to the olfactory should abound along the way, this journey shall be like a life time of spoken and unspoken desires, shared with a friend, slowly joining moment of connectedness. The journey can be …. Who is this Ogun ? ……..Intrigued! Intrigued!
Human Condition pivots on the magic of touch. Light gently stokes contacting the skin to skin connection which delivers the message… Messages the brain needs to nurture ones emotional development. Touch me … Good Touch!... Bad Touch, what would allow the human beast to use touch against oneself or others in a way that would scar another or oneself beyond recognition. Battered, Bruised, Beaten or molested. While others know and watch on as the youth around cry out Where is the Good in Touch Have you hugged me, or hit and harmed me Have you cuddled me or crucified and confused me. Have you? Have you touched me with your finger tip which exzooed tenderness. Do you know me. the need so primal so connected to belongingness that life depends on it, my brain, my body, my Life. Let not the lack of Touch revert me to fetal status Instead let your touch nurture my human understanding of connection and erect me in the knowledge of Touch So touch me often, touch me completely, touch me in places that titillate, calm, excite, relax, touch my mind hold me Touch me so that I can have the knowledge of you, your Touch. Touch me so that the Human Condition of man can be elevated(bloosom) to a place of positive Erection.
Speak Out Resound , vibrate Vocal cords announce the anger not express tying knot that choke, elevate stress until there is an explosion of emotion an outrage and anger an anger so deep within one held like birth Yes conception for so long until from the beginning of time until it manifest it self into you You who now holds the controls the ability to speak out Yet. Still suppress its birth So natural the vibrations the growth the need to say, not write, not think, just say uncensored those links to channels of our ancestor or prodigy will they listen can they hear or do they choose to ignore that Action Speaks Louder than words, Yet those word spoken slowly softly first reverberate again and again until Anger is all that is heard Listen in the moments, of your reflected silent, hear me, Hear when I speak out don’t wait for the eruption of angry. Words spoken on gentle breeze solicit your attention, act on them Act on them. Volatility is the response to your adamant rejection and disrespect. Speak out I say Speak so that I may hear reflection, inject slowly softly respectfully, lovingly SpeakOut so that the echo of the past integrates with the present Speak out so the chains that bound can free the voice of respect. Speak out in silent place clearing the air on which my voice will be carried by the wind to unknown and know destination; Heard, joined with million, billions, trillion of other powerful voices that speak on one accord. Speak out! like minds Let you message neutralize the universe Speak Out!
To you, the name is “Mr.!”
For four hundred years you tried to give me a name And to this day it still remains the same. As a slave you had control of my time. Nigger was the name you chose to give For you felt my life was not my own to live. But then when days of progress came true Another name did you give to try and make my days blue. Colored was what you threw on me Another derogatory slur aimed to take away my respect and dignity. To call me colored is a mistake That is a name I refuse to take. Your skin is white, hair and eyes are of the rainbow—sometimes blue. Colored is a name that should definitely be given to you. For as you can see, you are more colored than me. But once again you tried to hold me back. As a name you call me black. Yes black is the color of my race And for that I show no disgrace. I am black and I am proud! I would climb the highest mountain and shout that out loud! But as it still remains, Black is not my name. But since my name is such a tongue twister To you—the name is “Mr.!”
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