BYFA

PICTURES, POETRY, AND PROSE:
THE ART OF THE
ACCORDION BOOK

Nadiyah Edwards
Untitled

Untitled (The Birds and the Bees)

thirty minutes early
means time to spare:
you never realize what you find
beautiful until you have
the responsibility to create

the arrogance in the desire to create
what can only be replicated

thirty minutes early
means time to utilize

enchanted by the green and tan entanglement of what was and what is

there

a dying garden of flowers
in the glory of their lifelessness

they were searching through death

they sang
they ate
they pollinated and fertilized

the purple weeds stretching along side the green leaves

why did they plant the flowers anyway?

is no one judging up their fear of shame?

what if I had gotten the job; would I have/had new flowers
should I call them back and say
“hey, thanks for the interview, building parent
engagement communities in D.C. and Puerto Rico,
by the way, resuscitate the death in front of your building.”

so

“why you wanna fly Blackbird
you ain’t ever gonna fly
no place big enough for holding
all the tears you’re gonna cry”

you are prey
fear in spirit
tears in the shame

mommas baby tainted
painted in the image of a pain filled past

how long will hollow moments please echoing past?
who told you, you can be somebody?

“why you wanna fly Blackbird
you ain’t ever gonna fly
and they call you little sorrow
cause you’ll never love again”

self
                        love of self

who gave you the audacity not to be my woe?
sorrow

you can open that passenger side door cause we ain’t riding through six or fours
you ain’t invited

what plight keeps crept and tucked away in the blood stains of His-story? 

don’t tell me I’ll never be free,
I pledge an allegiance to the will to be free 

“I pledge allegiance to my Flag and the Republic for which it stands, one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”

going somewhere?
being someone?
who gave you the audacity?

Kamari James
And, I Wonder

Breshanna Mobely
Selections

The Day Baby Zagry Left Us

The day baby Zagry left his family? What can I say? Zagry was a very smart baby – he was only 11 months old, just learning how to walk, but he knew big words. He was a happy, playful, and smart baby: as very often with babies you would see Zagry crying or mad, but he was the family’s lucky baby. He love being shown attention and being called “Moo” or “Fat Baby.” He knew when something was wrong – when he was around, he would walk up to you, call your name, and hug and kiss all over you. He knew your feelings. Better, Zagry loved to eat, eat, eat all day, be around his loving people, and play outside in good weather.

The day my heart really broke, I was washing. I had left my phone upstairs and my boyfriend came down and said, “Bre, come here – the baby is gone.” Everything fell apart for me in that moment. I started thinking the wrong and bad things I wanted to do to his mother, and then she lied so many times about how he passed that I still don’t really know how baby Zagry passed away. Only his mother and grandmother really know. ‘Til this day, I will never forget the day he left me – 4/20/18. Life will never be the same without him. If only your dumb mother had watched you like she was supposed to, Zagry would’ve been a year old. He was the life of our family, but his mother wasn’t a mother.

Only that week he had visited and gone back home. That phone call made me feel like I should’ve kept him longer, or I should’ve been there to save him. I’m sorry – more sorry than his mother. She don’t need no more kids, but had another baby right after Zagry’s death. She didn’t even look sad, ain’t cry when she told us he was gone. She was just herself. I know if he was looking down at her, she might have made him upset like the time she said he came to visit her in her sleep and he didn’t let her touch him or kiss him. He just looked at her and didn’t even talk back to her or play with anything. Everybody who saw you always played, talked, smiled, laughed – even if they didn’t know you. The only time he didn’t smile was when he needed food, needed to be changed, or he didn’t like a person. We will always miss him.

Keeshanna Mobley
Moments

I AM THE PLACE TO GO

1. I AM A PLACE YOU GO WHEN ALL DREAMS ARE DARK
   AND ALL HOPE IS GONE AND YOU JUST FEEL ALONE 
   I AM A PLACE A YOU GO WHEN ALL THE LOVE YOU HAVE FOR
   YOUSELF AND OTHERS HAS DISSAPEARED AND IT FEELS LIKE
   YOU HAVE NO ONE ON YOUR SIDE I AM A PLACE YOU GO
   WHEN YOU HAVE NO CONFIDENCE AND RESPECT
   FOR YOURSELF SO YOU JUST LET THE DRUGS TAKE OVER.

2. I AM A PLACE YOU GO WHEN THE CELLS
   HAVE STOPPED WORKING IN YOUR BRAIN SO THE DRUGS
   THINK FOR YOU I AM A PLACE YOU GO WHEN ALL YOU
   WANNA SEE IS DISSAPOINTMENT AND SADNESS .

3. I AM A PLACE YOU GO WHEN YOUR HEART FEELS
   LIKE IT’S TRAPPED IN A DARK HOLE AND YOU DON’T KNOW
   HOW TO FREE IT I AM A PLACE YOU GO WHEN YOU FEEL SO LOST
   THAT YOU CAN’T FIND THE RIGHT PATH TO GO AND IF YOU EVER
   FEEL LOST WITH NO DIRECTIONS TO THE RIGHT PATH IN LIFE
   I AM THE RIGHT PLACE TO GO.
   

Trasean Mobley
Nature

Niamke N'namdi
Compositions

Trinitee Oliver
Portraits

The Drive of Energy

Show me a side of you the world has never seen. One that you try to keep away because others might be scared of it. The one that you yourself is scared of. I want to truly appreciate you so let me encounter everything. From the light in your heart to the darkness in your brain.

So I wait and count every millisecond of the brief hour that we’ve spent. You sprint from one to a thousand in every second through my head. All 3,600 of these seconds I stand by for the time being. I am discouraged to pressure you unless that is what you are keeping from me. So I must recharge you because you’ve powered off from this standby.

The other dimensions all come crashing on me at once. Speaking with the mouth is overrated but you still converse. We exchange thoughts through our fingertips. Like you are in socks on carpet with a balloon on your hair touching the power strip you shock me. All of the watts have been hoarded by the world to continue.

It was you that I didn’t know. That forever time that ticked did not prepare me for you, because you(I) do not understand. You(I) say I am a part of you now but could not understand that truth. How could you(I) be me if I am you? You as a being is what drives me crazy.

But my mind is driven by your energy.

Lauren Prager
Counterpoint

Mister Mint

Mister Mint was a green guy.
Gardening garnishes in his green tie.
Mister Mint loved every shade of green.
Any other color Mister Mint turned Mister Mean.
His garden was filled with avocados and green grapes.
His home was eucalyptus with emerald drapes.
He drove a smart car which was electric lime.
“Green on gas,” he said.
“I didn’t spend a dime!”
He let ivy grow on fences and flourish across.
The roots of his trees grew green mucky moss.
And when dinner came he ate green pasta and pesto sauce.
And when night came he used minty green dental floss!
One day a neighbor moved into the house on the right.
“A new neighbor?” he thought.
“Well, that happened overnight.”
“Nice to meet you, good neighbor, live.”
“I’d like to introduce myself as Roy G. Biv.”
“Roy you say?”
Mister Mint’s face turned grey.
Roy G. Biv had all the colors of the day.
He had a rustic red door.
Hmph! Mister Mint thought. Red, what is that for?
As Mister Mint examined, he mumbled and muttered.
“Look at those outrageous orange shutters!
And yucky tallow gutters!”
Mister Mint uttered and stuttered.
Blue green windows and an indigo violet roof.
Mister Mint wanted Roy G. Biv to g one, two, three – poof!
Roy could see that Mister Mint was unhappy.
He looked at his home, and said,
“All green? That’s a bit sappy.
The beauty of the world has every color intertwined.
Mister Mint, can you simply open your mind?
Red is rage, red is fun.
Orange and yellow
Are flames of the sun.
Green is good, as I cannot lie, but
Blue is the beauty of our beckoning sky.
Indigo is interesting like the depths of our universe
Violet is a vivacious voluptuous verse.
So spare me the argument, our world is unique.
Mister Mint, don’t you dare turn the other cheek.
And so Mister Mint thought long and well.
And Roy G. Biv had rung a bell
In his brain so he could understand
The unity of colors across this land.
And Mister Mint, still wearing green proud,
Had shook Roy’s hand thinking aloud,
Green is the forest in which I run wild.
I have loved green since I was a very young child.
But I remember I must mix yellow and blue
To create a beautiful world of green too!
So Mister Mint and Roy G. Biv shook hands,
And Mister Mint grew all colors in his green lands.

Derasia Ross
Impressions

Photo Book Available: Pictures, Poetry, and Prose: The Art of the Accordion Book