Debt I Could Never Repay

Here is for all of the mothers and like-a-mother types out there.

Thanks for all that you do!

_______________________________________

“Debt I Could Never Repay”

© 2012 Tyrone Turner

All rights reserved.

You have watched over me from ever since I can remember.

I am never hungry and a roof is always over my head.

My body and my clothes are always clean – except when I go to the park to play.

I go to a private school and as expensive as it is, you find extra money to buy me toys, games and take me on nice trips.

You continue to teach my right from wrong.

When I make bad choices, you correct me.

When I do good deeds, you applaud me.

When I’m feeling down, you encourage me.

When I start bragging too much, you remind me to be humble.

You are fair and just.

They say a child shall lead them, but in order for that to happen, the child must be raised properly.

You are a great role model for me to copy.

You work hard all day and every night you help me with my homework and give me a hot, filling meal before sending me off to bed.

I will work hard to honor all that you have done for me in the past, the things that you do for me in the present and all that you will do for me in the future.

I work hard in math class on how to calculate figures to determine how much I will owe you one day.

You told me that you will never charge me for your unconditional love because the best things in life are free.

Your love is a priceless treasure and my future looks bright because of all of the sacrifices you make for me each and every day.

There is no substitute for your love and it is a debt I could never repay.

Know my name. Kweku.

This poem is a series of 22 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 introducing you to a character that I created. His name is Kweku Annan. He is a supernatural being that will be featured in an upcoming short story that I’m writing called Girls Just Wanna have Fun.

Kweku is the male personification of the same supernatural spirit that also incarnates as Akuba in its female form.

I hope that you enjoy this piece and thank you in advance for taking the time to read this post.

________________________________________

“Know my name. Kweku.”
© 2012 Tyrone Turner
All rights reserved.

Tall, dark and handsome.
What women tend to dream of.
Too black and too strong.

Kissed by the sun, I
stand six-two and weigh-in at
two-fifty – rock solid.

Barrel-chested. Big
biceps and muscular legs.
Stern yet soft brown eyes.

A fierce warrior.
A learned scholar and shrewd
entrepreneur, babe.

My cologne will have
you spellbound and eating out
of my hand. Really.

Bass voice whispering
in your ear. Hot tongue licking
your lobe. Just breathe, hon.

Do you feel the warmth
of my touch? The strength in my
large hands. Holding you.

Idris, Denzel, and
Morris rolled up into one.
All true man.

Sugar. Spice. All that
is nice. That is what girls are
made of. Tasty treats.

Boys are not made of
rags, tags and puppy dog tails.
Don’t treat them as such!

Lying and playing
games with a man’s emotions
may be dangerous.

Gold digging may lead
to grave digging so keep your
hands out of pockets.

Leading a man on with
promises of pleasure could
make them do strange things.

Good and bad reside
in the hearts of men. Make sure
to handle with care.

Look into my eyes.
Now close your eyes and listen
to the words I speak.

The present is a
gift. That is why it is called
the present. Get it?

But do understand
that this gift can also be
a curse if misused.

Your future is not
predetermined. The power
of choice is your own.

I will show you what
is possible and to be
avoided. Be warned.

I do not repeat
things so make sure to take heed
of the words I speak.

You may dream of me
while you sleep or go into
trance during the day.

Never say that you
have not had a chance. You did.
Know my name. Kweku.

You Damn Love Hater

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!

Red, Gold and Green Dreams

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.

The Warrior’s Code

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.

A Mother of One

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.

We were poor, yet rich

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.

Can’t Make Up My Mind

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.

I’m sorry, children

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.

Please, Check Your Baggage

This poem is a series of 17 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 when you meet someone who treats you poorly or never really gives you a chance because of something that happened in their past – what someone else did to them. It also could be because you yourself have broken their heart and are looking to get a second chance.

Also, 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.

“Please, Check Your Baggage”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved.

______________________

You’ve been around the
world, like Lisa Stansfield but still
ain’t found your baby.

You find what you seek.
If you look for cheaters, you’ll
find them. Search anew.

If you expect the
worst from men, that is what you’ll
get. These words are true.

The best man in the
world can be standing right in
front of you. See him?

If you have on the
wrong glasses, you can’t see things
clearly. Blind as bats.

Whatever happened
in the past, needs to stay there.
Keep your eyes forward.

Learn how to become
a gemologist — one who
knows diamonds when seen.

Know what you really
want from a lover. You must
be very precise.

If you do not know
where you want to go, any
path will get you there.

Love is a house. But
you said that love don’t live here
anymore. So sad.

If you give me your
heart, you’d know love is under
new management, hon.

Don’t be afraid, girl.
I’m here to love you and treat
you right. Day and night.

Give yourself a fresh
start. You deserve much better.
Come and fly with me.

I have one rule though.
You can’t carry anything.
Please, check your baggage.