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Archive for March, 2012

You Damn Love Hater

Posted by tpegonline on March 27, 2012

This poem is a series of 13 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. I call this style that I created a haiku chain poem. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

This poem is about how people “hate” on you when you’re happy. This oftentimes happens when you find love or when you’re on the rise.

Don’t let haters cause you to crash and burn. Be inspired. Be thankful. Haters give you focus.

This piece is written from the perspective of a man who’s new found lady has a friend who is all up in the business and trying to cast doubt all the time.

Whenever I mention a song title within the body of this poem, I hyperlink it to the song’s audio file on GrooveShark.com.

I hope that you like this piece.

“You Damn Love Hater”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved.

______________________

I know you see me.
Hi hater. Bye hater.
You want me to fail.

I found a lady
that makes me happy and look
forward to each day.

Her sweet lips. Round hips.
Chocolate skin. Sweet perfume.
I just love that girl.

She cooks up great meals
and curls my toes and makes me
stomp my heels. REALLY.

We were at the lounge
the other night just sipping
and enjoying tunes.

You called her and asked
what she was doing. She said
she was out with me.

Attitude galore!
Why can’t you just be happy,
yo? I found lovin’.

Yes, misery loves
company. Folks, truer words
have not been spoken

Focus more on how
you can find happiness for
yourself. You’re so wack.

If you stop whining
about how men are no good,
you might get lucky.

No man will put up
with a quarrelsome woman.
Always arguing.

Be happy for her.
Behave. You are her friend, right?
So let her live life.

Maybe you’re not her
friend. Perhaps a “frenemy.”
You damn love hater!

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Red, Gold and Green Dreams

Posted by tpegonline on March 15, 2012

This poem is a series of 27 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. I call this style that I created a haiku chain poem. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

This poem is dedicated to the beautiful women of Guyana. I also hyperlinked the title of a song by Billy Ocean and a song by Culture Club to their respective audio files on GrooveShark.com.

This poem will part of a series I’m putting together called Caribbean Queens.

Enjoy!

__________________________

“Red, Gold and Green Dreams”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved

You are a daughter
of Ethiopia by
way of Guyana.

Are you from that place?
I think it was called Jonestown?
I drank your Kool-Aid.

Ahhh… What a cool drink.
Refreshing. Satisfying.
I can’t stop drinking!

Touched by the sun. You
are an ebony goddess.
Shaped by Amen Ra.

Your delicious meals.
Dhal puri and cook up rice
washed down with Mauby.

Our home is tidy.
The way you keep the house clean
and smelling so fresh.

Wonderful mother
and wife. You hold it down, girl.
You’re such a treasure.

Caribbean queen.
Billy Ocean sang that song.
Hey, does he know you?

Your skin is as smooth
and as soft as plush velvet.
Tempted to touch it.

Hair is short and neat.
You wear it well, beautiful.
Go with your bad self!

I now have quite a
discriminatory and
specific palate.

I don’t want no damn
Yankee girls. They are too far
removed from culture.

Not all of them are,
but I’d dare say most of them
bow to Babylon.

I will never speak
poorly of all Yankee girls.
My mother is one.

So are my sisters,
aunts, cousins, and my neices.
They are all in touch.

This is not about
any other woman though,
sweetie pie. Just you.

I love your homeland.
The culture is unique and
very welcoming.

Your national flag
sums up your best qualities.
You are quite a girl!

“Golden Arrowhead.”
That is the name of your flag.
“Old Glory,” U.S. flag.

Green in your nation’s
flag is for the forested
nature of your land.

Red is for the zeal
and dynamic growth that lies
ahead. Exciting!

It has white in it
to symbolize its rivers
and water supply.

The golden arrow
signifies mineral wealth.
It’s a “have nation.”

Your nation’s banner
has black for the endurance
your people sustain.

Boy George used to sing
this: “Karma, Karma Karma
Chameleon
,” right?

So, let me tell you
something about the color
of my dreams, sweetheart.

No black and white dreams.
I dream of your smiling face.
Red, gold and green dreams.

Posted in black art, black romance, poetry, spoken word, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

The Warrior’s Code

Posted by tpegonline on March 12, 2012

The picture to the right is called “The Chase at Rattlesnake Springs,” by Don Stivers.

This poem is a series of 18 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. I call this style that I created a haiku chain poem. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

This poem is dedicated to the warriors who have influenced me as a martial artist. Special thanks to Soke Chaka Zulu, Kyoshi Roman Lutak, Renshi David Bunch (aka, “Sensei Buddha”), and Master Michael Griffin.

_______________________________

“The Warrior’s Code”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved

Be a peacekeeper.
Do not provoke anyone
to war against you.

As the Swiss nation
understands, prepare for war
and peace will be yours.

Empty-handed skills.
Weaponry. Stealth. Surveillance.
Calm under all stress.

Principle-based and
not technique-centered. In fights,
there are no givens.

Prepare for it all
because you know not what may
come your way one day.

Striking defeats joint
locks and grabs. Clinching beats strikes.
Joint locks beats clinching.

Falling is an art
form. To know how to fall helps
avoid breaks and scrapes.

Sticks, saps, chains and whips.
Pocket sticks, pocket knives and
Griffin Grips™. Good deals.

Spears and tomahawks.
Cross bows, boomerangs, throwing
stars and sling shots. Guns.

Africa, Asia,
Europe, the Americas,
and Pacific isles.

All gave birth to some
form of combat method of
self preservation.

North America
gave rise to great masters. Like
Grandmaster Powell.

He is my martial
great-grandfather. He is the
Sanuces founder.

My grandfather is
Soke Chaka Zulu whom
laid a solid base.

Kyoshi Lutak
helped forge fighting spirit in
me. School of hard knocks.

Renshi Buddha is
who has opened my eyes to
possibilities.

I will continue
to train to become the best
that I can become.

Be gentle in life.
Be ferocious in combat.
The warrior’s code.

Posted in martial arts, poetry, spoken word, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

A Mother of One

Posted by tpegonline on March 11, 2012

This poem is a series of 11 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. I call this style that I created a haiku chain poem. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

This poem was inspired by the mothers out there who are “one and done” — for whatever reason.

Enjoy!

_________________________________________

“A Mother of One”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved

You’re my only child.
You have my whole heart. There is
no need to share it.

You’re my sweet baby.
No matter how old you get,
you’ll always be new.

Brand new in the sense
that it seems like yesterday
I first saw your face.

Your cute coos and smile.
How my heart used to sink when
I would hear you cry.

I love you so much.
I sometimes worry about
what the future holds.

The world is crazy.
Senseless violence and death.
What is going on?

My sweet child, in you
I have my loftiest hopes
and dreams. Everything.

Your father and I
both love you, but I’d dare say,
a mother loves best.

I carried you in
my womb for nine months and I
nursed you at my breast.

I have given and
will continue to give you
all of me, sweetie.

You are my stars, my
moon and sun. Special love of
a mother of one.

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We were poor, yet rich

Posted by tpegonline on March 8, 2012

This poem is a series of 12 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. I call this style that I created a haiku chain poem. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

This piece is dedicated to single mothers. They don’t get the credit they deserve. This poem was inspired by a coworker who was telling me that even though they had very little money and their mother was raising five kids in “Do or die Bed-Stuy,” they all turned out just fine. Single mothers are real life superheroes.

_____________________________________

“We were poor, yet rich”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved

Superheroes are
real. I’ve known one all my life.
We call her Momma.

There were five of us.
Growing up in “Do or die
Bed-Stuy.” Hard-knock life.

I wore hand-me-downs
and never had my own room.
We shared everything.

Momma had to cook
for an army of hungry
mouths. We were little.

We were stair-step kids.
All of us born no more than
two years from the next.

There was so much love.
Daddy wasn’t there, but our
mother always was.

Birthday parties and
report card nights. All doctor
and dentist visits.

On my wedding day.
When my baby was born and
when I crashed my car.

We didn’t have the
latest fashions or the most
exotic cuisines.

Momma kept us out
of trouble and taught us right
from wrong. Thank you, Mom!

How did she always
seem to have enough change to
get us ice cream cones?

I don’t know how she
did it. Money was tight. Seems
we were poor, yet rich.

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Back in Love Again audio project

Posted by tpegonline on March 3, 2012

Folks, I’m looking to raise money to fund this project. “Back In Love Again” will be an audio CD of poetry recited over music. The music will really help bring the poems alive. The poems are taken from my first poetry book entitled FOR THE LOVE OF WOMEN OF COLOR. This is a collaborative project of several independent artists. I’m the poet, but there are other independent artist (to be named at a later date) who will handling the music, audio editing, and art work.

If you donate $10 or more: Receive a personalized, jumbo-sized greeting card with a poem of your choosing (from a select group of poems) contained therein.

Donate $25 or more: Copy of the “Back In Love Again” CD once it is completed.

Donate $50 or more: Copy of the “Back In Love Again” CD once it is completed and have your name mentioned in the production credits.

If you’d like to send a donation, please send it to me via PayPal. My PayPal email is tntnia@ureach.com.

Thank YOU so much!

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Can’t Make Up My Mind

Posted by tpegonline on March 2, 2012

This poem is a series of 16 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. I call this style that I created a haiku chain poem. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

In this poem, I’m writing about how men may sometimes be conflicted about choosing the one they want to be with. I hope you all like it.

Can’t Make Up My Mind
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved

_____________________________________

Apples. Oranges.
You can’t argue about taste.
They’re both delicious.

Plump, sweet, juicy fruits.
Dancing all over my taste
buds. So good to eat.

Like my two angels.
One is a Haitian princess.
L3 the other.

By L3, I mean
Lovely, latin, lady. She
is Puerto Rican.

You know what? If we
say L3, we can
also say H3.

H3 is short for
Hot Haitian Honey. She is
so dag-on fine, y’all.

Chocolate brown skin.
Soft to the touch. I really
love it very much.

But the L3 is
pecan tan, round in the right
places. Lord help me.

Long, brown, corn silk hair.
Light brown eyes and kissable
lips. Wide, pointed hips.

H3, you’re built like
a guitar. Slim up top and
wide on the bottom.

When I pluck your strings,
you sing such a sweet song. True
music to my ears.

I love foriegn tongue.
Doing good! [N’ap boule!] You’re having fun! [Estas gosando!]
To hear and feel it.

Both are world class. Both
are eye candy. Both are what
men dream about. Yessss….

A decision has
to be made soon. I just can’t
have both. That’s too bad.

They both deserve a
man who gives them 100
percent – and then more.

Should I flip a coin?
Should I ask others to vote?
Can’t make up my mind.

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I’m sorry, children

Posted by tpegonline on March 2, 2012

This poem is a series of 21 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. I call this style that I created a haiku chain poem. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

As a parent, it is so heartbreaking when we are unable to spend more quality time with our children. We love them so much. This poem is about that.

Special shout out to my homegirl Tracy R. who inspired me to write this piece.

__________________________________

I’m sorry, children
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved.

Children, I love you.
You are the apple of my
eye. My future hope.

I often have to
work long days at the office.
We need the money.

I don’t get to see
you kids as much as I want
to. It breaks my heart.

On weekends we clean
the house and do other chores.
All work, no play time.

Our fun days are few
and far between. I’m working
on doing better.

Sometimes I may be
too harsh with how I deal with
you. I don’t mean harm.

I love you more than
you can comprehend. One day
you will understand.

My intention is
to protect you, guide you and
put you on the path.

The right path, sweet boy.
The road to success, peace and
righteousness, dear son.

I do the best that
I can. I give my all, son.
Become a good man.

Tough love is true love.
To groom you to treat women
with gentle kindness.

Don't be abusive
Do keep in mind that you were
born of a woman.

Honor and protect
them. They’re your past, present and
future. Cherish them.

My precious daughter.
Be dignified and may the
peeps speak well of you.

Don’t let any man
call you anything outside
of your given name.

You will be a prize
and a joy to men. One that
must be earned by deeds.

My words at times are
sharp. My punishments may seem
way over the top.

I’m a fair parent.
It’s my duty to spank your
booty if needed.

It does indeed hurt
me more than it hurts you. I
hate to hear you cry.

Remember, I love
you and only want the best.
Never forget that.

The ride with me gets
bumpy at times. Just hang on.
I’m sorry, children.

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