UseUrWords

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"cuzalligotisthispoetry"~N'Kyenge Ayanna



Monday, January 19, 2015

HOW CAN I MOVE THE CROWD?





HOW CAN I MOVE THE CROWD?

Dearest Dr. King with this bold voice I sing and spoken word with the utmost respect, revelation and intellect, I ask the questions in my mind can't press rewind this is our time but in this time much has changed but not much changed just rearranged for political stages, I honor you for the words you spoke, for your quest of hope for the speeches you wrote, because of you
I can Waterfountain anywhere and take a sip
I can Lunchcounter pick my seat wi...thout a whip
I can hold hands and kiss a white without my murder and I can educate at any school let's take this further
my question is HOW CAN I MOVE THE CROWD? like Eric B. and Rakim said, first of all, ain't no mistakes allowed, you dreamed your dream and paved a way it's up to me to create change because my Black skin ain't hardly a sin it's where I begin
and images of you stir up my soul
I feel empowered and elevated like I can reach these goals and I promise every night when I lay my head to sleep, I thank The Lord for Visions cause'I know my dreams he keeps! UNITY!

Thank you Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
I WILL MOVE THE CROWD ONE DAY AS YOU TAUGHT ME IT'S POSSIBLE.

N'Kyenge Ayanna
 nineteenth of january 2015~ celebrating Dr. Kings Day

Sunday, January 4, 2015

love n vibrations

when we love as hard as we do
the length of it tangles, it
creates division when listening ears fail bleeding
lips silenced from not enough kisses

when love leaves, or ends as it will, we
move in circles around each other pretending
not to care or worry love will never linger between
us and sheets wrinkled old, together
we are not satin smooth
we aren't, but love

in vibrations, up down around and sideways
backwards, in between, yesterday, today,
right now, and for sure tomorrow will cliche
a million more times
and she will black out
every time
never minding you.

nkyengeayannabrown
fourOHtwo am

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Don't Trip Ma...

don't worry if he'll call
if he texted or the sex is
not enough to satisfy
your hunger for pancakes and white truffles
after you've smoked up all his lies and swallowed his sorrow
and tomorrow, when he rings your bell and you send him to hell with
thoughts of the next chick, thicker than a snicker thick doing all those
nasty tricks
remember
you should remember
the talk you talked at the start of the game
├žause he was so fine with that accent strange, spoke in tongues in church but
aint nothing changed girl, and you thought he drove a range but
who cares about his whip when
in his eyes you're just another dip
don't trip
don't trip

122814 ninetwelve pm n'kyengeayannawrotethis

Thursday, November 20, 2014

I can't title you.

Love pushes
me into fits of
rage.
Circles dance under skin
panting angry love
waters spilling entirely
into my conscious
I can't, anymore.

N'Kyenge Ayanna
20noviembre2014
11:36pm

Monday, February 24, 2014

No Country of Uterus

The woman at the bus stop has a contracting uterus
she forgot to be impregnated so she waits for the bus
The woman at the corner has chocolate milk, it is
staining her white vneck t-shirt.
The woman at the corner with the titty-milk stains is
holding a just got here baby.
The baby cries in the arms of the woman on the corner with the chocolate milk titties.
 The woman at the bus stop folds over.
The woman at the bus stop has a contracting uterus
she is alone in the world, she is allergic to cats.
The woman at the bus stop is a human rocking chair.
Her life is back and forth, all the time back and forth and every
day back and forth.
The woman at the bus stop pledges allegiance to her uterus, since it
won't stop jumping, won't stop dancing and shaking.
You are no country of Uterus god damnit, you are no country of uter us!

N'Kyenge Ayanna eleven twenty 22414

Friday, February 14, 2014

Please don't let me die on Valentines Day!

it would be ridiculous really
to be found affectionately dead
to have come to your loved one
with roses, chocolates and a fresh new pair of
converse sneakers only to find her affections silemt
as whispers of love fill her face and kisses smother her cheeks
 she remains
stretched out
as if set in a scene, her
lips, toes and fingers painted red
still
her body lies cold, cold and colder
with the scent of Dolce y Gabanna Light Blue
permeating from her neck
somehow.

N'Kyenge Ayanna seveninthemorning twofourteenoffourteen iwrotethisinthedark

Friday, February 7, 2014

Too Much

I am dying of an old woman´s disease and I never even got the chance to become old.
My sexy slivered and sunk into cotton fields that nothing good happens in
no life, only pain. I cry alot.

I am dying of an old woman´s  disease and the shit hurts and I never got to finish being young and vibrant and in my prime colors.

I am yellow all the time.
I am blue mostly.
I am no longer red and
I am black only because we are all black when the lights go
out.

N´Kyenge Ayanna Brown tenten 2-7-14