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Silhouettes of Solitude
Renee Matthews-Jackson
© 2005
The rain
beads down
in a silky noise
A
train whistle
echos in the distance
Night has come
and all is quiet
Except for tires
on wet pavement
Outside my window
A somber breeze
tickles my arm
As the smell
of wet grass
heaves itself
into
my nostrils
This is the hour
where thoughts
become visions
Creeping away
the dryness
of a long
day
A swift flicker
of lightning
And the vibrant crackle
of thunder
Plays a symphony
of subtleties
While
a stillness
encases a timeless moment
In the oneness of it all
Knowledge Is Vain
Renee Matthews-Jackson
© 2005
I Corinthians 2
5 That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but
in the power of God.
The bone of contention
brandished
itself
upon the heads
of those who discerned
they were of great knowledge.
In stark illumination
there was intense deception,
for vanity
created an overflowing
self-righteousness.
In a word
the world was born,
the light prevailed.
in another
word,
life was issued forth...
Man/Woman could not comprehend
the magnitude of such words.
Being far, far less a spirit
than the Almighty,
yet assumed greater
in thought than the next
human,
deception became their recompense.
They smiled
in boastful adulation,
an admitted knowledge so foolish.
There, vanity took hold
of common sense,
and stroked the
heart and mind
until an all knowing
perception of self was unleashed,
and none could be wiser.
Validation of expertise became the quest.
The word of wisdom did not precede.
It would have paid
to be wise
with little knowledge
than to be unwise with lots.
Wisdom is a sure gift,
given in account of the Almighty.
Continued study, therefore
is for His approval,
not meant
for discord or strife.
It is wisdom that powers knowledge.
The preception of knowing,
lies
waste in verbosity.
Excessive pride shrouds good convictions
erasing a peaceable decree.
God is wise
Man/Woman, is as a cretin, and puffed up.
Yet we pretend to know...
Romans 1
22. Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools...
Consumed by Metaphors
Renee Matthews-Jackson
© 2005
Imagination stirred
in society's dutch oven
of unrealized dreams
deferred by circumstance.
Aspirations
that confounded wishful thoughts
of immeasurable
success,
relapsed over themselves
in visions of wanton desire.
It seemed that a half century
designed of
light years,
visited by talons
of memories, had eased
into my spirit and fully evolved.
Yet now;
wondering
across meadows
grazed by greedy beasts
which obliged barren landscapes
in their feeding frenzy,
a dazed stupor
trips up consciousness.
Signs of wear
were posted along highways,
regurgitated realities
assuming that
even when done best
more was needed.
Unattained compensation laughed
in righteous dismay,
while sheer
disdain applauded
in accusation
at years that had steadily gone by.
Mourning ensued
for those who had no
choice
but to give in to death,
illusionary tears
of abandonment
sat and cried
in lowly places
of discontent...
Loneliness
captured the essence of yesterday,
blended it with tomorrow's fantasy,
as life straightened it's rumpled garments
and
chased away the day!
I Am The Muse
Renee Matthews-Jackson
© 2005
I am the wind
blowing into infinity
the sun
with
warm
rays of tender touches
I am the milky white
of an unearthed pearl
and the pink of rose petals
soft
and velvet
I am yesterday
and tomorrow
the present
with hope
and songs sweet
I am an open and
shut case
of reality
while I muse in fantasy
entertaining my spirit
with laughter
I am you and yours
intertwined
and mingled into one
yet separate in thought
and measure
I am me
running through cornfields
dancing
on moonbeams
bathing in stardust
creating and relating
to all that is...
A Letter To My Son(s)
Renee Matthews-Jackson © 2005
Hey
Son,
I understand why you sellin' rock
In America on every single city block.
Rollin' wid' yo semi-automatic
glock cocked!
Got no time as the seconds pass on the clock.
You can't make it work on minimum wage
So, you flaunt
yo' talents on the corner stage.
This real life for you, page after page...
Vent that anger, relieve all your penned
up rage.
You doin' what it is you think you gotta do.
Don't condone it, but I sure as hell know it's true.
I
really wish there was some way I could help you,
On my knees each night I say a special prayer too.
I'm ya mamma,
I just wish for you the very best!
I know it's hard son, each and every last test.
I mourn for y'all, the world is in
such a mess,
Just to make it through the day is a conquest.
I wish things were equal for the young Black man.
I'm
hard on you son, but I know you understand.
I see you tryin', I know you've got a plan.
You're gonna rise up, you can,
I'm your biggest fan!
Steady runnin', always checkin' your back...
Don't you understand you're under attack?
There's
nothing on this Earth honey that you lack.
It's a beautiful experience, my son, to be Black!
Don't let 'em trick
you, it's the powers that be,
The devil wants your soul, he's the enemy!
He's blinding the children, so they cannot
see,
Baby, listen to mamma, in Christ there's victory.
He'll lead your footsteps, show you what is right,
Turn
your darkest day into brilliant light.
Take it from me son, it's gonna be alright,
Soon your life will be in place,
air tight.
Got your own son now, gotta show him the way,
I hope you understand the words that I convey.
I pray
for you, but it's you that's gotta pray,
That your son too is in the fold, out of the fray.
I know I'm goin' on
and on, I can't stop these tears,
The longevity of a Black male child ain't many years.
So, I rebuke in Jesus' name
all of my fears,
I've got your back, behind you baby, holdin' up the rear...
Glad this letter won't come to you
in a jail cell,
It's coming to the house in the daily mail.
Go to the water now, set high your sail,
This life you're
livin' right now is a form of hell.
I'm with you son, yes I am, all the time,
But how you make your money, to me
is a crime.
Put the blunt down child, you are in your prime.
It is for you, I sat down to write this rhyme.
These
words I'm sharin' come straight from my heart,
You gotta begin again son, make a brand new start.
Your share is out
there waitin', and the bigger part,
Is that I know your potential child, you're real smart.
You don't need to stack
dollars, start stackin' trust,
Put your trust in God son, for real, this is a must.
I know you wound so tight,
you about to bust,
You after them Benjamens, that's your sinful lust.
But God can make a way outta nothin', you
see!
You gotta stop what ya doin' and listen to me.
No, I don't know it all, but some I do, can't that be?
Inhale
these words baby, check out my reality!
I ain't tryin' to preach son, but know one thing,
Depression and sadness
upon yourself you bring.
If you swat that bee, kill it, or it comes back to sting!
Reach out past the stars, grab hold
of the brass ring!
I gave birth to you son, then I watched you grow.
I nurtured you, my best I tried to show.
What
you do as a man, wherever you go...
Take God with you, you can't ask for much mo'!
Look to the hills, there's strength
up there,
I know you know that God knows I care.
No more will be put on you than you can bear.
You're right, you're
right, life ain't easy, it ain't fair...
Understand that hard times won't last forever,
Use your mind son, you know
I know you're clever!
Wouldn't have you miss the miracle son, no, not ever!
I'll always be there for you, I'll
never stop, never!
You are a King son, this you've gotta know,
And if I didn't say it straight out befo'--
I'm
lettin' you fly now, yes, you gotta go..
Like the ripple in the stream, with the wind, you gotta flow.
I'll
end this letter now, 'cause I have faith in you,
And better than that, I know what God can do.
There is one thing son,
that I've gotta ask of you,
Would you please love yourself better than I do.
You're my blood, you got me and
you're daddy in you,
So think real hard on what it is you've got to do,
Most of all my child, "to thine own self be
true".
I love you son, your good fortune is overdue.
I love you,
Your Mamma,
I really do!
Deep down in
your heart,
I know you love me too.
Nada! ~An Acrostic~
Renee Matthews-Jackson © 2005
Yesterday
Over nothing
Understanding wavered
After years
of
Rehearsing love
Each broken reason
Needed to be fixed
Only me and you could do it
The truth had to be
exposed
How could this pretense last
In a place all too familiar
New emotions arose
Guess how they ended
Tokens
Outside
of us
Memories
Eroded from within
And we dissolved
Never speaking another word
Yesterday
Made me
see that
Only reality's unwritten laws
Rushed in
Erasing the hatred
Being kept agreed with her!
Renee
Matthews-Jackson © 2005
Behind the scenes
he treated her with kindness,
he was a just and upstanding man.
She was
from
the section of town
where poverty was the uttermost,
he was from that higher plane
in the stratosphere.
He
adorned her
with precious gifts,
bathed her
in the oils from distant lands,
fine jewels were hers
when
e'er she desired.
He gave her his all
in their little mansion on the hill.
She was indeed a kept woman.
Kept
so well
that no one knew of her.
She didn't exist
outside the world
he created for them.
No one knew...
Not
his colleagues,
partners,
comrades...
She was never spoken of.
All assumed he was unattached.
She was
a kept woman
who knew within herself
that she was secretly locked away.
He was ashamed of her status.
Embarrassed
that he had not wed
a woman of his standards...
someone who had
the luxury of monetary gain,
that "silver spoon"
advantage.
After all, he had attended
the best schools,
drove the latest model sports cars,
only went to high
society functions,
wore the most expensive clothing...
She was a gorgeous woman,
most comely,
her spirit
shined through,
and made her beam
like a brilliant rainbow.
Her colors were intense.
She was a sheer pleasure
to behold,
breathtakingly beautiful!
His greatest urge
was to show her off
to his friends,
but he dare
not,
for she just might hint
that she did not belong...
She wept,
but fought to become like him.
Tutors
came to her home,
teaching her the proper ways to speak.
Ladies of etiquette
taught her to be refined,
she
was already gentile.
Finally he took her to an extravagant
dinner party.
She used the proper fork for her salad,
the
correct spoon for the soup du jour,
patted her mouth with the napkin,
laughed at the boring jokes,
and yearned to
be back on the hill,
away from people
who made her feel
like this was
lead actress
in an Oscar winning
performance.
She'd rather be kept
than absurdly courteous
to people who cared
out of cultured necessity.
Cold
people,
who seemed to move about
in a robotic state.
She wanted her kept existence back.
In the confines
of their home
where they were both real...
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