LOVE FOR LIBERTY

Love For Liberty

This poem was inspired by the Gentrification of East Liberty in Pittsburgh, PA. It is for those who were once in love with a place they called home, just to get it taken away from the effects of gentrification: DEFINITION (the process of repairing and rebuilding homes and businesses in a deteriorating area (such as an urban neighborhood) accompanied by an influx of middle-class or affluent people and that often results in the displacement of earlier, usually poorer residents of a neighborhood.)
This poem can also be found in a recent short film I was apart of called: Liberty Child

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Future Son

Dear future son, Because of your parents, you have been blessed with the fortunate misfortune of being black. More specifically, a black man in America. Of carrying melanin, like they carry hate. Like they carry guns. Like they carry sticks and stones, yet their words consistently pierce through skin. So don't let that phrase fool you. Being black, being a man, living in America is not an easy job. Yet, there are no bonuses or incentives for getting through to the next day. Only smiling mothers and crushed white Male egos.  Because they've been trying to take you down, since the MayFlower. Trying to keep you from blooming and having more black sons.  Wishing you would miss the boat that Noah built, while forcing you on another.  Dear future black son, I am begging God to protect you.  From those who used your ancestors as a crutch, tool.  Then tossed them to the side when the work was done.  While his brothers praised him for a job well done. ...
Read more

Spring Rolls

 Somedays, I wonder how you feel.. I think like how spring rolls entice my taste buds.. The fried kind, of course. Good, but wrong for my diet. Maybe I shouldn't want them so bad. But I like to keep a box of them in my home. For when I'm ready to indulge. In you..... I mean them.
Read more

Cranes In The Heart

  I tried to do it myself, Dived into conversations with my inner thoughts. Making scenarios. Analyzing the what ifs. The if you were mine I would never need another comforter.  My bed would be warm, My legs wouldn’t be able to keep up with the room. I tried to eat it away.  Finding space in my stomach,  For the sweets that resembled your appearance.  Hersheys that I’m sure couldn’t compare to your kisses.  I tried to drink it away.  Altering my mind in hopes that you would disappear. But my mind found more visions of you.  More time to think of how you aren’t mine to claim, To indulge.  I tried to pray it away,  Knew for fact that God would hear my prayers. But instead,  The devil was listening.  He slithered into the Pot, Her r esisting only left to a mere apple that she dared to bite. I get Solange now.  I tried to do it away.  But away was far from me. Like a crane in my heart. 
Read more