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Poetry Corner

A Tribute to Local Poet Rayshawn D. Armstrong

Grio’s use words and language as artistic mediums to inform inspire and agitate critical thinking about the past, present and future. As a tradition deeply rooted in West African Culture, the purpose of a Grio or Jali is to keep the story of a people's history, culture, struggles and triumphs through the traditions of written and spoken word. Co-founder and Minster of Information of the Griot.
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Poetry Corner: No Stones Unturned

No Stones Unturned She is so beautiful, the sun greeted her with a smile. And the dew kissed her with a lovely kiss, Escorted by the wind.   The birds sang good morning to her, while the day embraced her. Even the flowers gazed at her conventionally, then said hello.   Men showered her with praises, And the leaves on the trees clapped their hands. The bees let her be, and the rain held up.   God put.
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Poetry Corner: Decision

Decision There will come a time in everyone’s life. After you’ve seen trouble and ran him away Made love on a rainy cloudy day Talked to friends at play Saw all the bills and had to pay. After the party that night After the big ugly fight. Now comes the big decision you must make You have thought about it many times. The big decision you may not think it’s true The big decision is you! ~By.
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Poem: Positively Cleveland

Inspiration brought on by a dying a city, financially and spiritually speaking. Going back through the history books of my city, I see that, at one point we were a thriving cluster of communities, filled with culture, camaraderie, and hard work. With beauty and brawn to boot: but lately I've seen division, hateration, and elevated rates of evacuation, taking away the last remaining heartbeats of my.
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Poetry Corner

She Likes to Swallow Blood I hold her tightly While the darkness creeps in slowly. My arms can’t protect her From nightmares, her past, And the clouds approaching   Laying restless from awaiting Revelations. The ticking clock syncs Our breath and tears. Because she cries silently, Weeping pillows wet Is a haunt that makes me hold her firm   Never feeling her pain from the day before. I never see the bruise and tears through the beauty Of her smile. The.
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Poetry Corner: Today

Today Today I display happiness because yesterday taught me a lot. Respectfully now I take one step at a time cautiously, I must say.   For me to get a second chance in society a question was asked, “Did I learn my lesson from the punishment I received?”   I reply, “No lesson have I learned, punished I was not.” The only ones that were punished were my friends and family who.
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Community Poetry: Home is Where the Terror Exists

Home is Where the Terror Exists   I remember when The terror crept in From the back alley and Occupied the living room. Made her mind wicked As the people watched her Lose herself Learned how to sing lullabies   With a wicked psychosis From a lonely world. Beatings and lies created the scramble And a child was found outside My window. Outside With hands too small To make a fist. Too young Not to know how to love   And exists. Too innocent to.
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Community Poetry: Listen/Silent

Listen/Silent "... To everything there is a season, a time to keep silence ..." ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1 & 7   Six letters just the same, L I S T E N = S I L E N T rearranged. Hold your tongue, lend your ear Hush Hear.   ~ Submitted by Minister Beverly C. Robinson .
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Poetry Corner: Uncle “Big Wheel” Loves Kryptonite

Uncle "Big Wheel" Loves Kryptonite Uncle “Big Wheel” had two digits On his right hand, A pinky and thumb. He once was a heavyweight fighter, With super powers and fist made of mortar   As children we watched him, His superhuman strength battled to death The evil that owned the streets, terrified nights. Lips chapped and white, Pupils wide and bright Chasing the evasive   As children, we did not recognize His addiction, antics and quiver. We’d wonder why this.
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Poetry Corner: Fall

Leave a[n]griculture for the dinosaurs, per- maculture for soaring Birds they became according to wisdom, my friend (Paul) says dinosaurs figured it all out! War be low so Above dis... figured it a waste O time, energy lumbering around too big to fail bodies large as the Terminal Tower (it is terminal, was terminal) beating to a pulp, so... Back they came (he says), lighter, closer to heaven and chirping for all (mornings) glory as a dove, thrush, lapwing, peacock pretty... swifts.
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Poetry Corner: Spring Pre-emptive

I show him the place. the art. the furniture. hoping to convince him to stay, (and impress) that I am a collector of curios. We enter the dining-room. The vase bursting with forsythia. Foresight enters my head. Heed the following I hear estranged. This rustic gathering of twigs, branches yielding bright zest of the spring pre-emptive. He asks: “are they real???” Is anything in this room, this house? my silent soul responds, “sure” my lips reply sure. ~ Poem by Zachary Siler, a booking agent for artists who writes poetry.
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To Barack & Michelle / Memories of Ronald Davis

You are living beyond the dream This is the day the Lord has made, Whether you're working or just chillin The house that black built wasn't made in the shade.   If these walls could talk They would unleash profound memories, So God's labor is not in vain The house is white for all to see.   It can't rival heaven's mansion, Tell them why not RD "when one and one is no longer two, when.
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Poetry Corner: Clouds

Clouds are like people drifting away as they please. They have different names with different meanings like foreign countries do for newborn babies just unfolding. Clouds. The saddest part is when they drift away. They may never come back. ~ Poem by Akia Eubanks, 12, who lives in Woodhill Homes in the Buckeye-Shaker area. Read her poem "Sabers" here..
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Poetry Corner: So Close To Victory

                                         Part 1 Sometimes, you miss out on what's in store for you Because you give up before it happens in life If only you kept moving toward your goal Your goal could have become a reality You are so close to victory I know your goal seems like it's far away And.
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Poetry Corner: Sabers

The projects can be an obstacle like an object put right in your way it might make us sick to live surrounded with gates that breed hate in some areas police most often arrive late daring people to start trouble when they arrest you your problems become double The projects are a market for drugs weed cocaine and crack the substances that make others not know how to react to life but with perseverance and.
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