Muncie Times, Muncie, Delaware County, 1 August 1996 — Page 22

The Muncie Times, August 1,1996, Page 22

►POETRY

Clarence Motley and Jnends

Should’a, Would’a, and Could’a I would...I could...Maybe 1 can If it wasn’t due to “The Man’’ I want to...I need to... Wait, if not now; How long 1 could do it right now if my color wasn’t wrong Yesterday...Last year...It’s all in my past And that’s why I come in last Help me...Don’t hurt me...Will you please Why must 1 always beg and plead Clarence E. Motley 10-2-92 11:48pm Until, we as a race, use our knowledge of this system to our benefit, we will continue to be oppressed, suppressed, and depressed. So in essence, we have to stop being a “volunteer victim.’’ “A Man Prayer” Dear God. I want to make it to heaven, if 1 don't make anymore of my goals. 1 want you my Lord once again to have my body and soul. I’ve never prayed for you to give me any money, cars or diamonds rings. For in you Lord 1 found. I need not material things. If I should fade off track just trying to be one of the guys. Lord, point me back in the right direction to your ever-lasting light. I know’ that I’m a simple man living life to it end day by day. An with your eyes watching over me I’ll be ready come judgement day. Amen — Mr. Clarence E. Driver

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The Muncie Times retains the right to edit all materials submitted for publication. But because of the unique nature of poetry, we have suspended this rule for “Poet’s Comer”. African American poets often use the vernacular of the contemporary black experience. Their work is sometimes saturated with the language, rhythm and semantics of the streets. This language is their instrument, without which they cannot play their songs. At The Muncie Times, we will not try to stifle creativity. However, blatantly offensive, racist or sexist material will not be printed, of course, and we do reserve the right to choose which works to publish.

Just Another Average Day A home is burned down to the ground An earthquake swallows all around Flood waters cover all that’s drowned But here I stand on solid ground Oh yes, dear Lord, I thank you A war is ruling someone’s nation Thousands die from sheer starvation A bombing frees a man’s frustration But I can say with exaltation Oh yes, dear Lord, I thank you A careless gun will take a life A heartless stabbing with a knife Domestic violence turns to strife But thou saw fit to spare my life Oh yes, my Lord, I thank you AIDS will rule another day Cancer cells destroy their prey A driver crushed along the way But I receive another day Oh yes, my Lord, I thank you — D. Burns

Cracked Life is like an eggshell, A fragile eggshell, A grade B eggshell for black folk. Any little shakeup in our carton and we most likely crack. Some of us more than others, But all of us are cracked. Cracked on crack, Job cutback Welfare attack and no media slack. But although cracked If we just look back and see that we are what makes

Do You Know This Person The person who holds your hand when you cry. Do you know me? The person who runs your errands and see to your needs Do you know me? The person who is there when no one else will be. Do you know me? I’m God’s child, put here to love and comfort you in your hour of need. When you see me say hello. Let God run our lives, not the evil that is destroying this world today.

breakfast of champions, Then I’ll settle for being cracked and intact, Test I become scrambled, fried or poached by the American menu. —Cynthia Lewis Reed

Wfe ’d love to share your poetry with our readers! Send your original poems to: The Muncie Times 1304 N. Broadway Muncie, Indiana 47303