I sprint down the field on a clear breakaway, bringing my head up to look
at my final destination, the goal. The next moment, I find myself spread-eagled
on the turf, my limbs twisted in odd angles. I open my eyes to see a blurry and
off-kilter world. I blink once, twice, and my vision slowly rights itself. Shakily, I
stand to find blood flowing from a broken lip. I snarl, a sight that I am sure is
made even more terrifying by the crimson liquid collecting in my mouth. I throw
my arms out wide and demand a call from the ref. A foul, a yellow card,
anything! My pleas are fruitless; the referee is pretending that he cannot hear
me and the girl who took the ball from me is already yards away. I turn on my
heel and sprint after her, anger simmering in my veins. My cleats pound into the
turf, bringing up sprays of black rubber pellets with every stride. The metallic
tang in my mouth urges me to push harder, run faster, and hunt her down.
With no regard for the rules of the game, I slide into the girl’s legs from behind,
effectively tripping her and bringing her down. Once again I am on the ground,
but this time with a sense of satisfaction as the ref blows his whistle for the
blatant foul that I committed. The blood staining my teeth tastes like victory as
he pulls out a card as bright as the triumph that surrounds me: red.
The Persistent American Vice
A resounding cry of “build that wall” rises,
An ugly history of hate revises.
Always masked by empty words of liberty,
Newly revived, the monster of hostility.
Always the devil on the American shoulder,
Curbed temporarily, resurging even bolder
The golden veneer of the land of the free
Sheds yet again, making way for bigotry.
“Unprecedented!” some cry, “Such crass!”
Reassuring themselves, saying “This shall pass.”
But great experience suggests otherwise;
Racism remains a persistent American vice.
The Seeds They Sow
A rondeau, inspired by The Autobiography of Malcolm X
The minister’s words; the seeds they sow
With every speech the white fears grow
For Muslim brothers who love him dear,
The things he says eliminate fear
To rise up is the only way to go.
He tells the oppressed: Stand and say no!
While white men attempt to overthrow
The ideals they believe in here:
The minister’s words.
But all of Malcolm’s followers know
It is nearly time to end the show
The final curtain shall appear
To cut off, with a mournful tear
That thing Black Muslims all have followed:
The minister’s words.
When She Calls My Name for the Tenth Time
Annoyance, rising up in my chest; threatening to explode; with
Each repeated yell adding up to the swell.
Irritation, mild anger; red darkening to black.
It covers my brain, till I burst into flame.
Its triangular shape poking at me, nonstop
It creeps up to me like a shadow, till it pounces.
It appears as a storm cloud; at first clean and white;
But as the sky fades to grey, its red lightning strikes.
It sounds like the grumble of a man awoken too early;
As he tries to lie down and rest just a little more.
A constant tap on its back and call of its name
Drives this word on to light up with rage.
A storm above my head, zapping on my skull,
This emotion is sure to attack one day.
It lives in New York with the buzz of the city
No peace or quiet; enough to drive anyone crazy.
A Fight for What’s Right
A poor life this is if ruled by dollars
Even more when judged by color
Dangerous risk to make a stand
When named at birth, given a brand
How many people have suffered from this
Spending their lives in an abyss
We must stop the hating
Away with dictating
And now start anew
Let kindness come through
Welcome these equals
Make sure there are no sequels
A poor life this is if ruled by dollars
Even more when judged by color
Tag
The sun has long since dipped into the horizon by the time I reach the lake, the last of its lingering shadows already faded into the dark oblivion of the young summer night. A slight breeze brushes against the lake waters, sending ripples across the smooth surface. It’s times like these when I feel the most alive: adrenaline courses in my body, excitement quickens my steps. And, despite the brown leather jacket that I had hastily thrown on earlier, I shiver slightly.
We had agreed to meet at this blissfully secluded area at the edge of our little town a few weeks before, at one of our meetups that always involved us going to our favorite ice cream parlor, Dream Cream, and staying overnight at one of our houses. It was something that both of us had always wanted to do, but never really found the time for in our hectic schedules. But now it’s summer, we have a whole two months ahead of us, waiting to be filled with midnight adventures and daring escapades.
Pulling the hood of my oversized hoodie above my head, I sit down on the soft grass by the lake with my arms resting snugly around my knees, contentedly watching the lake glimmer under the starlight.
It’s not long before my ears register the familiar footsteps behind me, causing a small smile to tug on the corner of my lips.
He sits down next to me, giving me the wide, boyish grin that I’ve come to love, and says the three words he’s been saying to me for the past two months:
“I like you.”
His eyes lock into mine; pressing me, daring me. All of a sudden, it’s hard to breathe, and my heart is beating wildly.
It’s the nice kind of wild, not the kind that usually arises when I need to speak in front of the whole class, or the kind when I’m embarrassed and wishing for the earth to swallow me whole, but the kind what makes me want to cry and smile at the same time.
Happy, I realize. I’m happy.And so, finally, I grant him a rare smile, for once not caring that my mouth is full of braces and that my smile is slightly lopsided, and utter the the four words I’ve been holding inside me for too long:
And so, finally, I grant him a rare smile, for once not caring that my mouth is full of braces and that my smile is slightly lopsided, and utter the the four words I’ve been holding inside me for too long:
“I like you too.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise before his grin inexplicably widens, creating a tiny dimple at the corner of his mouth. He leans in until I can feel his warm breath against my neck and whispers, “Tag.”
And, just like that, he’s off running and I’m left to chase after him.
Still Waters
Serene Daybreak
Raindrops
Love From Heaven
