http://slow.writerscafe.org/manchilld99 The original writings of author manchilld99 en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776004795 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 you can wear your cap twisted sideways sag your pants down to your kneesride a pachyderm or a mule that braysbe whatever kind of fool you please  sing love songs in the rose garden or complain how the dollar done fell knowing qadafi, hussein, and bin laden have all been .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/1057387/ love poemso is what’sneeded then a collaboration?just a man and awoman in celebrationof what? … ameeting? … you know the kind….of the spirit , theheart, body , and mind?come on now people,is that what it’s about?didn’t nobody tellyou b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/1050184/  o' deathyou have come not for mebut just to let me see you are never far you need always be closewhere the living leave suddenly, slowly, inexplicablyyou leer, don't hide your face i saw your face in my mother's eyesas we all had gatheredto la.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/1044666/ the poet said, "...let's make a deal and keep it real..." http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/1043544/ History is rife with important figures who live parallel lives, albeit in vastly different times. Consider for example, Robert Johnson and Jimi Hendrix. And then there are these two... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/1039558/ " ... when death creeps into our lives ..." http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/1039549/ '...o' beloved harlem .... at the precipice of a brave new world" http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/1037453/ In race-conscious America and color stratified black America, a really dark-skinned woman used to be called very descriptively, a 'crow jane.' She was idealized as mythically powerful and sensuous. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/1036538/ .... on writing and versifying to win. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/1036527/ ...someone your are likely to meet in life, or even to be http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/1022598/ ol’ blue jumped a rabbitrun him for a solid mileblue run that rabbit til he cried like a natural child blue jumped on me one morninglike he had nothing better to doi didn’t see it comingit came from outta the blue blue he just dogged me.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/864943/ a highly selective childhood memory http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/810620/ you can go home ... even being a stranger there http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/809402/ if the shoe fits ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/798177/ going away into the world ... gone for good http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/797468/ ...oh yeah, and then there was the naacp... didn't they have a ceremony of sorts .... something to do with burying the word 'n****r?' http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/792734/ ... just going to show you can have a lot of fun with poetry if you don't take it and you too seriously ... why did i even write this? ... just swagger for the sake of swagger. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/792458/ nothing is stronger than self-esteem. nothing. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/789281/  someone stole my future, stole it and hid itnow I’m trying to figure out why? and just who did it who did it? who dropped our sugar candy in the dirt?made waste of our sweetness, replacing it with hurt?tell me who dropped the baton, as we lost our race?the others ran by laughing, kicked .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/775642/ the propagation of self delusional niceties prophesy their own self-fulfillment http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/753942/ little voice be stillyour musings seem shrillagainst the clamor and importance of voicesbigger and louder and better hush now, little voicein this you have no choiceun-splendored in loquaciousnessyou lack tonal eleganceand your rhythms are .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/735282/ it’s not that i suffered any special malaiseback in what i call my good gettin’ high daysno, things were fine, with no special anguishi just liked to get high, kick back and languishi liked to forget the cares the daydon’t bogart that joint " pass it this waywe’d dig ‘p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/735193/ broken was his will to resist an exercise for which there was no strengthto which there was no use… being besieged, overrunbeleaguered by blistering attackhe went weak and gaspedfeeling flushed teary-eyed groping and drooling weak-kneed and fell awa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/717387/ what lies ahead ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/710541/ Written, published history only tells a minute part of the story, that part its own values and prejudices deem important enough. For every hero it recognizes, it misses the multitude -- these men. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/688555/  why ‘on’t you stop?hip-hop music ain’t yo callin’you runnin’ round talking ‘bout ballin’you ain’t never even been nowhereyou what we used to call a real squarei think you oughta quit it    &nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/688553/ poets, say what you mean; mean to say something http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/664613/ the afterglow of a kiss http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/624237/ One of my earliest and favorite poems. Imagine ... two literary giants having tea. A little rhyme for fun doesn't have to be frivolous. The truth need not be preached or ranted. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/621484/ Even man-made forest fires are acts of cleansing ... the removal of decay, death, debris ... and decadence http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/620697/ Adaptation of a 1930's black jazz tune, just for fun. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/619372/ we all remember our first best friend, and easily recognize who is our last ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/590776/ some women call bad men dogs ... someone says 'who let the dogs out?' OR 'WHERE ALL MY DAWGS AT?' at and you go 'Woof, woof, woof!" http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/590389/ written in 2/09 ... not a poem at all, just musings of a sort ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/590334/ I’m love-tired now, but so well groomed,shaven clean of deceitfulwrong-word edges:The too facile ‘ever,’Rough, abrasive ‘never,’Silly, solicitous ‘forever.’I’m too love-wearied for being “Mr. Right&rdqu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/589836/ Clutching bedclothes tightlystained with bloodher stomach crampingher mind racing,‘Gotta tell Mama’‘Gotta ask mama,’Tony’s baby sisterIeisha  stands aloneoutside Mama’s bedroom door,tonight a woman. Sta.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/589732/ Those who don't know are condemned as 'ignorant.' Ancient tales to explain are dismissed as 'myth.' But then there's THE WORD. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/585245/ Spoken word poetry. The need especially we have to express ourselves beyond what our words say on the page. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/584860/ another way to be a fool ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/582669/ the speaker is someone you know .. believe me, he is http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/582551/ a very un-pretty depiction. but who knows the real story? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/580610/ trying to walk forward while looking backwards ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/573453/ Our world at the dawning of a new age, irrevocably changed, forevermore in peril. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/570447/ Setting it right ... for R CRUMB'S debased racist caricature of black womanhood, ANGELFOOD MCSPADE, and for other black girls everywhere ... and for all girls, everywhere. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/570113/ ...HB ventures into his mission, his adventure. The point of no return is now passed. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/569088/ Every town has, or had, a Jefferson Avenue ... the urban playground where 'game' was all you needed, but you needed it all the time... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/566500/ oh, the things that are left to be resolved in heaven ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/565053/ Once great hunters roamed our land. They used their guile and knowledge to harvest small and large game, using only basic weapons. And they had to watch for dangerous beasts. That was then. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/564341/ a simple statement defining grief http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/563512/ ... just a little poem of loving as the city yawns itself awake ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/manchilld99/563497/