Image by Cynphany Brown
Donnell Bonaparte, Jr.
Diner Friend
“Here you go buddy,” said Karen.
“Thanks...smells good as usual,” said Jade as she sipped her tea.
“Only the best for the best,” said Karen, smiling.
“How much longer are you in for, honey?”
“Just about five more hours,” said Karen, as she looks at the clock.
“Ahh, ok, anyways, how you like it here? Seems like a very chill atmosphere.”
“Yeah, on the outside, it might seem cool. It's all I can find right now, but when something else opens up, I'm out of here. I just don't mesh well with the people here. Plus the boss can be a pain.”
“Really!” Jade looks surprised.
Image by Cynphany Brown
“Yeah girl,” she whispers, while she whips the counter with a dish rag. “But I'll tell you what, better than the last job.”
“I'm really sorry about that. I know I don't need to apologize, but I wish I was able to do more to help you, ya know?”
“Hey girl, it wasn't much you could do,” said Karen as she walked toward the grill.
Jade takes a fry from the plate. “Hey listen, if you need anything, anything at all, please give me a call. I'm here for you, even if nobody else is. I still consider you one of my closest friends.
“I know, hun,” Karen said.
“I know you don't like asking for much, but I want to remind you that I got you. And I'll do whatever I can to bring the truth to light back at the building. You and I both know that Jeff deserves way more than he got. Still can’t believe that – ”
“Thanks J, but –” she pauses. “I just want to move on from it all. I'm not there anymore, so I need to have a fresh start. As a friend I want you to support my decision and be behind me.”
Jade stares at Karen. “I understand. Well, can I get a refill on the tea? A little more honey this time, please.”
“Sure thing, hun.”
Cynphany Brown
Dialogue
Every day I sit by the window, hoping they will let me go through and see what's on the other side.
"If he jumps, I'm not going to chase him," says Leo.
"I don't run, for no one or thing. He sees it's open, but he knows better. Please."
As night draws near, the window comes down to a slim crack so the wind can come and go. Leo and Sinny are finally asleep.
This is my time. If I don't leave now, I'll never know what's really out there.
Two hours later.
"Can you get her a bottle?" Leo asks Sinny as she wipes the crust from her eyes and rocks Selah back to sleep.
Sinny walks back in. "Where's your cat?" she asks.
"He's not in the back room? The bathroom? Under the couch? Did he leave?" Leo asks.
Sinny silently, quickly puts shoes and pants on. "I'll be back in a few. Going to go look for him. Don't worry, baby."
Sinny is worried, but still goes looking with a fragile bit of hope.
Sinny returns a few minutes later. "Nothing."
Days go by. Emotions go too.
"Let's make some foyers. That's the last attempt, then we'll leave it to the universe."
Here
The bags beneath your eyes
tell the stories
of all the places
you’ve run.
You are your mother’s daughter.
Broken
taking all day long to speak
with nothing real to say.
It makes sense
you came from her.
She the concrete
you the rose.
Still blossoming
despite.
Janae Franklin
Love
The reason I’m upset is because in life we learn that we aren’t scared to do what we want to do
But we are scared of the Outcome.
In relationships, I often think, what did I do to deserve to be treated like this?
What exactly is my purpose of being here? Why the pain, the tears, and the heartbreaks?
Why must I feel this tight feeling in my chest?
Why do you hate me? We are all humans; why can’t we love each other, but instead hate me. I
hope you can forgive me, but nothing is rational about love, it tends to be clumsy, and my
heart refuses to wear protection. I always find myself
dedicating time to things that only last a few minutes, maybe that’s why I tend to fall in love with
someone who will never love me back.
This is why I’m learning to let go, love myself, and put myself first. And, most importantly,
forgiveness.
Misconception pt.1
He’s the real reason.
The Timbo through his veins.
Slowly killing him.
He’s in great danger
The rat leer.
Resulting in death
The raged has begun to boil
Misconception pt.2
The sum of mum
Real mum yes moi.
We truly don’t the danger
The danger that will become of us.
Darn she says, not again
The rat came to her and she saw the rat’s true intentions
It was nothing but a misconception.
Emotions
To me, emotions come in different colors.
I felt like anger had the most vibrant color for me
because frequently, I deal with my emotions by only bottling them up.
One feeling that made all of my emotions go away was simply forgiveness.
I don’t know what color forgiveness would be maybe blue or something but
It would just be empty. Forgiveness is hollow because it was an emotion of relief,
A Feeling of reassurance, in fact.
Toni Hornes Sullivan
Snap! Crackle! Pop!
from corporate America
Think! Small
intel inside.
You give us 22 minutes,
we’ll give you the world.
JUST DO IT.
Trix are for kids—ask the man who owns me.
Nothing runs like a Deere.
They're G-r-r-r-r-eat!
Takes a licking and keeps on ticking.
It Works Every Time.
Does she or doesn’t she got milk?
Tastes so good cats ask for it by name.
The Heartbeat of America—
It keeps going... and going... and going…
Obey your thirst. A mind is a terrible thing to waste.
When it rains, it pours!
This is your brain… on drugs…
Hand built by robots!
CAPITALIST TOOL
It is. Are you?
We’ll leave a light on for you.
Images by Cynphany Brown
Wicked
“What’s the darkest place in the world?”
“The mind.”
“It’s been three months.”
“Since?”
“You’ve left the house. Getting sunshine–”
“You’re not a doctor.”
“I’m trying to make sure you get better.”
“Not everything is sunshine in Cancun.”
“Mom died last year and you’re still sitting here moping about. She didn’t want that for you.”
“She didn’t want to die of a heart attack either.”
“You’re so stuck in your haunted hell hole.”
“Please forgive me if I haven’t traveled to Mexico, Jamaica and Bali in the last 16 weeks.”
“After her death I decided to see the world that she didn’t. That’s honorable. ”
“It’s like nothing ever happened.”
“Typical bitterness. We hashed out our differences.”
“You called once a year. Complaining about jobs, toxic boyfriends, stints in jail for possession. Just jumped from one fantasy to the next. Now you’re jet-setting across the globe?
“So what?! You think you had everything figured out in your twenties?!”
“She was too sick to for me to fuck up my life.”
“Her health didn’t decline until eighteen months ago.”
“How mentally absent are you? She had pre-existing conditions FOR YEARS.”
Tyra Jackson
THE SCENERY
The warmth of the sun,
kinda like a blanket that you never want to leave. Having
a warm feeling can be something you’re missing.
When you feel the warmth of the sun,
it’s like the sun is dancing on your skin,
Or giving you little sun kisses. But when the sun is gone,
It’s colder than winter.
The warmth disappears and you become depressed. Not having nothing to hold onto nor make you feel special. It becomes gloomy and icy,
so cold you can see your breath.
The depression takes over your whole body; swallowing
you whole like a vortex.
The cycle continues.
The warmth comes again with kisses on your skin, glowing from feeling warm again,
but you will never forget the cold.
THE GATES
The Gates are aligned together like a family.
A family that sticks together like a pack of wolves on a starry night.
The Gates are always side by side, not giving up any space
except for the holes in the chain links.
Sometimes the wind can cause the gates to open,
preventing the gates from being close like a family.
It’s not far distant if you think about it:
One day you’re as close as a family,
but one mess-up causes distance.
That one gate can’t get close again unless it has some help–
maybe help from the same thing that caused it in the first place.
The open gate doesn’t work when it isn’t close.
Just that one little breeze of wind is all the gate has.
The gates start to get used to expressing their independence.
Then it’s another windy day and the open gate starts to move again,
ends up attached and locked again.
At that moment the Gates realize that the wind can’t be trusted.
Cierra Little
She's Curious and I Wonder
She never had much time to do anything for herself. She often only works and sleeps. She had no pastime, no joy, no hobby. She just was, until was wasn't. In that moment, she had lost the desire to speak. You could see it in her shoulders. She carried way too much sorrow to have only seen her twenties. Hopefully Nina will learn to smile on her own.
It is about 2 PM before Nina realized she had slept the morning away. She wipes yesterday out of her eyes to the sounds of inner city Baltimore outside her window. She rolls out of bed to walk over to the window across the room. She opens the blinds with two fingers to view the noise from her window. Below, a stage was being set up on the street.
Nina quickly turns and brings her attention to the calendar on the fridge. She quickly rips the outdated month off the calendar's pad. "Its P.R.I D.E" says Nina with her eyes brightened wide. She runs back to her bed to grab her phone and calls her best friend. "Hey Clark, its Nina." She lies back on the bed with the phone in her hand. "Did you know today was Pride?" She pauses waiting for Clark to answer. "Well why didn't you tell me?" Nina replies. "Ok well I'm going to call out of work, and get dressed" Nina throws her cell phone on the bed and rushes in excitement.
P.R.I.D.E was a once-a-year festival dedicated to the L.G.B.T.Q community in Baltimore. After working consistently as a teacher and harboring different side jobs. Nina had worked her way through all of her opportunities to have fun the whole year. So the fact that a parade, block party, and concerts were being held less than five mins from her house was a sign from above for her to finally get out the house.
Resurrection
There's no such thing as a loved lost
for God loved us so much he gave us his only sun
so if my burdens nailed you to a cross
and your burdens gave me vinegar to drink, we did not die
simply because we won't and we can't.
Where is your honor to God?
For we kill spirits together that try to kill us
when we talk about faith.
Not the faith that twiddles its fingers hoping everything
works out, but the faith that knows everything works out
exactly how it should.
And even in the next lifetime, the one you
created when you realized you didn't die,
I will still offer you grace and mercy
simply because I know how frightened you are
to stand at your planting and think it was your burial.
May God put rest in your soul.
Kaiy Muhammad
A hat rack for no one
A hat rack stands waiting
but no one steps into the foyer
to visit the lingering past
A ghost lingers in an open space
the shadow of a home that once was
quietly waiting to tell a story
A sculpture attempts the hopeless
created to remember the past
and being forgotten in turn
An observer comes to a stop
stares as if he could see
then leaves to rejoin the living
A historian keeps walking
apathetic to the forlorn air
of a dismissed legacy
A world refuses the silence
needed to hear whispered stories
insisting on shouting its own
A child stares in awe
beckoned by the ghost to listen
and takes a picture instead
Travis Type O-
“I thought you said there was a river here! We can’t hide a body in this puddle.” The kidnapper slammed his fist on the van dashboard in frustration. There was a kind of cartoonish villainy to him that Travis would find a lot funnier if he wasn’t terrified for his life.
The kid next to him curled into the fetal position. She had been there longer than Travis and didn’t have a family to return to. He vowed that if, no when, they escaped, Quinn was coming to live with his family. The other six teenagers sat still and stony faced. They knew better than to move or make a sound.
Their other captor, a woman and the second half to this power couple, responded calmly. “I said there was somewhere to hide the bodies, not necessarily a river. Do you really think any of the kids will be identifiable if we chop them up and let nature take its course?” She smiled conspiratorially at him and he beamed like a lovesick idiot. “Okay then that works too. What do we need from this batch? Is it the standard organs or is it...”
Travis tuned them out as he heard Quinn’s breathing become fast and shallow. Incoming panic attack. It took him by surprise the first time, but after months together he adapted. Growing up in middle class suburbia, Travis had never met someone quite like Quinn before who smiled when getting kicked in the teeth and still insisted she was “not a boy fuck you very much.” Quinn who was younger than him, but still protected him with her life. He had never felt more hopeless during the whole ordeal than that moment listening to his best friend have a panic attack about their impending deaths and being completely unable to help.
Lauren Prager
Jerusalem
The streets are paved with history. You enter monotheistic religions like the center of the sun. Three, like branches, stem and divide into the likelihood that a religion ends with peace or war.
There are a few peculiarities in the pavement you walk on that inhibit cultural archaeology. I myself enjoyed traveling alone and taking the light rail from my Aunt's home. I'd often find incredible musicians while monks and real Rastafarians gathered to feel peace. Some days, I would visit the Western Wall where people from all of the world prayed their secret prayers and wrote them on small papers before folding them and putting them into the wall. They bowed to the reckoned temple.
One day, I decided to go on different paths around the ancient tourist areas to stroke my curiosity. On the paths of Judaism, the pavement is quite rocky, and as you look down, there are more steps to be taken. On the Christian path, the pavement at the Western Wall is similar, but not the same. I took a turn to the Muslim area because I respect and adore all areas and religions. After all, I am half Yemenite, and Yemenites are mostly Arabs. The pavement of the Muslim area was much smoother and had more wear on the stone. Indifferently, I entered this area forgetting that stabbings over this land is very much a reality. A man in a four-wheeler revved his gears, and as I looked forward, he had a crazy look in his eyes. He continued to rev his engine, provoking fear in me and letting me believe that he will, indeed, run me over.
Abandoned Beauty in the Breakdown
We stumbled upon a piano under broken glass and sunken stairs.
Looks as if no one cares.
Graffiti and glass, the IRS, this mansion is abandoned like
“Oh we will let the time pass”
But before time takes its toll, the stairs have already sunk.
Before they packed their family away, did they put them in their trunk?
Who owned the place?
Did the man have face?
Did he die with someone who held his hand in an embrace?
Why does money break families and piano keys?
I fell so hard, I cut my ankle and knees.
I almost heard laughter in the children’s toys lying around.
They ended up on Craigslist under lost and found.
The dust, the rust, the pain in a broken home
is like singing to a broken metronome.
How does a home feel when it is
Abandoned?
Samaria Tyler
Eyes
What Story will you tell me,
Oh sweet brown eyes?
Is your mind really free? Or is it just sadness in disguise?
Will you give me your thoughts,
Or will you lead me astray?
Will I find what's hiding behind those eyes
that beautifully reflect the sunrays?
Tell me what you see
when you look at the world.
Do you see your reality,
Or is your vision too blurred?
Will I ever find what's behind those almond eyes?
Am I close to the truth, or just drowning in lies?
Brown is the color of your secrets
that you will carry into the ground.