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 Apr 2013 Bamboo Bean
Thomas Gray
Daughter of Jove, relentless Power,
Thou tamer of the human breast,
Whose iron scourge and tort’ring hour
The Bad affright, afflict the Best!
Bound in thy adamantine chain
The Proud are taught to taste of pain,
And purple Tyrants vainly groan
With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.

When first thy Sire to send on earth
Virtue, his darling child, designed,
To thee he gave the heav’nly Birth,
And bade to form her infant mind.
Stern rugged Nurse! thy rigid lore
With patience many a year she bore:
What sorrow was, thou bad’st her know,
And from her own she learned to melt at others’ woe.

Scared at thy frown terrific, fly
Self-pleasing Folly’s idle brood,
Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy,
And leave us leisure to be good.
Light they disperse, and with them go
The summer Friend, the flatt’ring Foe;
By vain Prosperity received,
To her they vow their truth, and are again believed.

Wisdom in sable garb arrayed
Immersed in rapt’rous thought profound,
And Melancholy, silent maid
With leaden eye, that loves the ground,
Still on thy solemn steps attend:
Warm Charity, the gen’ral Friend,
With Justice, to herself severe,
And Pity dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear.

Oh, gently on thy Suppliant’s head,
Dread Goddess, lay thy chast’ning hand!
Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad,
Not circled with the vengeful Band
(As by the Impious thou art seen),
With thund’ring voice, and threat’ning mien,
With screaming Horror’s funeral cry,
Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty.

Thy form benign, O Goddess, wear,
Thy milder influence impart,
Thy philosophic Train be there
To soften, not to wound my heart.
The gen’rous spark extinct revive,
Teach me to love and to forgive,
Exact my own defects to scan,
What others are, to feel, and know myself a Man.
 Apr 2013 Bamboo Bean
Rachell H
Look
 Apr 2013 Bamboo Bean
Rachell H
Look at my face

Look at it right now

What do you see?

You know what, no I’m going to tell you what you see.

You see black.

Look at my hands

What do you see?

You see black.

Do you even need to look at my nose before you assume that it’s large?

Are my lips the same?

Do you even try to get to know me before you assume that I play by the rules of the stereotypical
“black” game?

When will people realize, when will people realize that we are not the stereotype that has been forced
upon us.

So many of us spend so much time trying to break through these minds of the people who see us for one thing. Black.

Now don’t get me wrong.

Black is important

Black is strong

Black is independent

Black is beautiful

I don’t need you to tell me that you’re surprised that I don’t speak “ghetto”

I don’t need you to tell me that you expect me to be a **** and walk around in stilettos

And I don’t need you to tell me that I’m inferior to you because my skin color doesn't fit your regimen.

No. I will not, I will not be defined by my melanin.

But I will let it push me to be the person that you so clearly doubt I can be.

I will let it excel me to levels of understanding and acceptance that you will never see.

I am more than my stereotype.

You expect me to stand here and pull a gun?

You expect me to stand here and say that I don’t know who my father is?

Or do you want to hear that I’m pregnant?

And all those questions are okay, right?

Because my feelings obviously come second

No.

I refuse to be reduced to how much melanin is in my skin

I refuse to stand here and listen to people tell me that it is a sin

To be proud of my race.

To be proud of my ethnicity.

And to not keep it bottled in.

Look at my face

Look at it right now

And tell me what you see
 Apr 2013 Bamboo Bean
Annie
personal
 Apr 2013 Bamboo Bean
Annie
All i find myself deeply caring for is

the discovery of new poetry

a cigarette on my roof at 12:43 am

the ink inside this pen, the paper underneath my hands

and that shoes inside the dryer noise

within my chest

and for some reason, nothing else sticks to me

it rolls off my skin like water on windows

puddling in front of my feet

darling, you don’t matter - maybe in someone else’s eyes

but in mine, you just don’t matter

*don’t take it so personally
 Apr 2013 Bamboo Bean
Karina
Sometimes I wonder
why the bird ***** its wings
fighting a never ending battle against gravity
holding onto the ledge.

Sometimes I question
the decisions of fools
a mistake made without rhyme or reason
a required tool to stand strong.

Sometimes I listen
to the ****** and the cruel
beaten and battered to death by hatred
a submissive fool rising from the ashes.

Sometimes I lose control
when the axe is closing in on my neck
babbling for attention from the worst people
forgotten, left for dead on the battle field.

Sometimes I forget
everything vital in my mind
moaning and groaning of long dead issues
valuing all but myself.

Sometimes I don't understand
why the innocent must die
his past mistakes becoming his life
everyone is innocent inside.

Sometimes I wonder
why the bird ***** it's wings
winning the never ending battle against gravity
becoming everyone's ledge.
Death
Death, run that by me again
Do you want me to give up this life full of pain
and go off with you.
Can what you say be true?

Have I come to the end are you no longer my friend
but my foe, the one that I came to know
in those dark times.
When the rhymes would not flow and the tick of the clock sounded slow to my ears.
Are you my fears that have come home to take me?

Where is the face all ghoulish and teeth
that belief that I held?
Why do you hide just outside? please come in
Let's settle this over a tall glass of gin.
No,
Don't you grin,that look is obscene.

I have seen you before,
Once, as I lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling
I had a feeling that shadow was you
far too early but then, you knew you'd return.

So I turn and I gaze at this life
just a phase in the scheme
One more dream that is scattered
In gardens.
To grow afresh,a new bud
To come back but we knew.
we always
would.
set to music
yellowed images
fray the screen as the static
fills the gap of 40 years
everything is so different
hair and clothes
people that you used to know
people come and go
"remember him?"
"they got divorced"
its funny how time can force
such distances
and loss of self
we grow so far from simple joys
those kids arent you
or atleast they "were"
that beauty gets lost
in the belly of the world
it swallowed you up
traded your magic for myth
your innocence for "truth"
your imagination for structure
when you think back
do you remember the feelings?
do you miss them
could you fathom
maybe even having them
now?
but you talk about prices
not considering how life is
so different now
from the hood of your heavy eyes
ridden with disappointment and the lies
of the world you traded the wonder for
seemed to think there was something more
wrong
i used to think
that in order to think
i would have to stop
believing

i used to think
that in order to believe
i would have to stop
being

but really
i just needed
to let myself be
honest and loved
for bamboo bean
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