✨✊🏾✍🏾Celebrating “Black” History Month, with Hyacinth W.✍🏾✊🏾✨

Hyacinth W. was my Mom. She was my first exposure to Poetry. In my book, Maya Angelou is right up there with my Mom…Literally,😇 These Poetesses, taught me plenty, whether they knew it or not.

My Mom, allowed me to recite at one of her Poetry recitals, in Brooklyn, NY. I was a mere 12 years old. I don’t miss her like some may think. Yes, it’s nice seeing her in the flesh. But it’s a feeling of greatness & depth, feeling her within my being, embracing her energy and that of my family & Ancestors.

I chose to share a few pieces of her works, especially geared towards “Black” History Month, for even as a child like many, I grew up with racism & injustice daily. I grew up watching “Like It Is”, with Gil Noble & watching political debates. It was during these times especially, that my Siblings & I were free and encouraged to give our input. I was the only one who relished this with my Mom. It was our special time of bonding & overstanding. Our ciphers were DEEP.

Deep because as a young “Black”, female child, the goings on of the world around me, was drenched in trying to make it & to survive. These struggles strengthened & damaged all at the same time. Looking back, we were like POW’s…At least that’s how it felt to me, growing up in the ’70s, ’80s, ’90s, and here we are Today.

In the eyes of many children, their parents & adults seem BRILLIANT. I wondered as a child why were things so difficult. The answer always seemed blatantly clear to me. Stop treating people poorly, especially people of color. These were adults, acting like hateful & ignorant children. Again as a child, it never made sense & the answer was right there, plain as day. As an adult, it’s shameful that today my Mom’s poetry of the plight of “Blacks”, still rings true. As a people, we’ve come far, but we’ve gotten nowhere close to where we should or could be. “All Lives Matter.” But not all lives of 1 particular race has & still is being demolished, “ALL OVER THE WORLD.”

I’m one for Love & Unity of the entire “HUMAN RACE.” I use the term “Namastè & One Love” all over my Blog & other Social Media pages. Why? Because within my heart, mind, & Soul I know that loving of Self & Others, is the key to the existence of Humanity. However, the struggles continue.

The system of things, the utter brainwashing, the dumbing down has us in a precarious situation & position on the human chain. Racism still exists, Slavery still exists, Slaughtering of our race by the system/self-sabotage still exists. And my Moms words reflective of the “African Diaspora”, still cut through the senses like a saturated blade…

©Hyacinth W.M.

✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾

©Hyacinth W.M.

✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾

©Hyacinth W.M.

✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾✨✍🏾

“Namastè & One Love”❤️💛💚

#ILOVEYOUMOM

#HUMANITYMUSTDOBETTER

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✨🌹Powerful Video🌹✨

💔Many are broken💔

We need to remember that we all go through things in life. I’m not a religious individual. However, if LOVE were a religion? Then I’m a LOVER. The broken? They’re ME, YOU, US, THEM…WE. We cannot keep throwing people away. They need help as much as anyone else & sometimes even more so.

 

I grew up in Brooklyn, NY. Born sickly, was severely abused by almost everyone I came across in my childhood, teenage years & adulthood; from the cradle to the classroom, literally. I was always angry and in pain, physically & emotionally. I was dubbed by a close family member with the name, “Mad-Max.” I was hurting, angry, lost, became detached from life in many ways & at an early age, I became a mother (I was 16 & he was 34 – happens when you’re homeless & your parents didn’t break the cycle either)and suffered greatly. I loved my children but only partially. I didn’t know how to love them past being a provider & disciplining then. People gave up on me & it took a large majority of my life, trying to figure things out. My life was my own personal hell, filled with walls & no way out. But somewhere deep within was the real ME. The ME that was connected to a Soul so deep, that poetry was the only hidden voice that I had. I wrote poems at times, simply to hold onto my sanity & humanity.

 

See, when I was growing up, kids like me? They usually didn’t last long. They were killed, stuck in abusive situations, became criminals, became abusers, committed suicide, went stark raving mad (oh I lost it a few times), were bitter or simply fucked-up, one way or another. I was in my own personal hell for what seemed like a never-ending nightmare. There wasn’t anyone that loved me. I also was clueless as to how to love myself. People were afraid of me & I became afraid of myself as I sunk deeper & deeper into my own dark chaos. I was labeled a monster by my abusers, strangers, family & so called friends. There were times when being a monster was the only respect & fear that was attached to me. I was fortunate to not be a criminal. Reading at a High School level by the time I was 3, was my only outlet. I immersed myself in reading EVERYTHING.

 

I made many mistakes but I learned. I wasn’t able to be there for my children in the way I wished I could’ve been. But once I figured it out? It’s been part of my life’s purpose to help others & especially those that life/humanity has forgotten, the labeled “Underdogs”, “Monsters”, “The Less Than”, poor and underprivileged, anyone who’s suffering & need a “port in the storm.” I can’t save & help everyone, but I do what I am able. I’ve also learned how to not waste my energies. Once I am satisfied that I’ve done all that I can, I’ve learned to keep it moving. Because you can drown in a flood while trying to rescue people. I’ve drowned a few times, lol! I just refuse to give up😌. It does take a toll, but I never regret helping others. It’s one of the things that make me happy.🥰

 

People wonder how I can be so loving, share positivity & love…Lol, trust me, it’s better to exist in this space than the one that I was in before. Every chance that I get to show someone Love, is a beautiful thing. Anytime someone remembers how to love themselves & share that? Absolutely PRICELESS. That’s how we change things.

 

But we have to see that we all live here. Why not make or contribute in making life a better thing to experience? A kind word, helping someone, asking someone if they’re okay, checking on your neighbors, smiling at people, heck! Don’t forget to smile at yourself, feed or clothe those in need, stop being able to send a text to a stranger but if you see abuse & suffering right under your nose you walk by, give that homeless person a blanket, food & make inquiries as to why they’re out in the cold, ask a child or adult if they’ve eaten, don’t try to change anyone try to help, STOP MINDING YOUR OWN BUSINESS, because if we all cared a bit more, what a world this would be. Yes, people trying to help get hurt and have even lost their lives. The irony? Those who fear this, would be awed that if those who helped had to do it all again? They would. Think about that.

 

This video touched my heart because often no one ever gives a shit about the abuser or the criminal. Although this is overstood, they weren’t born destroying lives & themselves. Something happened, whether we know it or not. It takes a different type of human being to do what they do at “Homeboy Industries.”

 

One person matters, because one by one, like drops of water forming the oceans, we’re uniquely created & even stronger together.

 

“We’re All In This Thing Called Life, TOGETHER…Remember?”❤️💛💚

By, Maxwanette A Poetess

✨✍🏾Born Into A Life Of Misery✨✍🏾 By, Maxwanette A Poetess

 I Write & Share as much Love & Positivity as I can.

Why?

Because I came from such an abusive, damaging, miserable & negative place.

This flowed over onto my children, family, friends and was such a focal point of my existence at that time.

I was being beaten from within & was clueless as to how to break the cycle.

 

I can remember when this poem was written.

 

Life was difficult trying to raise 3 children as a single mother – with my sisters’ help, with only my GED & my HHA/PCA Certificates.

 

My oldest sister, the laugh & smiles of my children kept me going. But the pressures of life were mounting. See, I was considered “The Strong One”, “The Fighter” …So I had to keep going, even as I was falling apart. This poem was my outlet at that moment. You know what I mean? When the demons of your past, attack you at a weak moment.

 

Yeah, lol! They were kicking my ass, lol! I can laugh now but during that time? I was a tortured Soul & no one knew. I was too strong to cry, complain, speak about, or relate to the pain. I had simply turned it off like it never happened. But it started to seep out and overflow and the family? Lol, well my Dears, it fell apart.

~Maxwanette A Poetess

 

bornintoalifeofmisery

 Born Into A Life of Misery

Born into a life of misery,

Never to reach my full capacity.

 

Used and abused when necessary,

Did anyone ever care how it would affect me?

 

Thrust into a world all alone,

Deluded by the body of a child that’s grown.

 

Wasn’t taught what the world was made of,

Confused pain and hurt with love.

 

My body has been stretched, mauled, molested, screwed, beaten

I’ve always been treated as the earth’s most loathsome cretin.

 

Never belonged, always wanting to fit in, wanting to be wanted

Just mistreated, lied to, cheated on and taunted.

 

I try to climb out of the cesspool of my life, to wade in waters clear and free,

As I’m being pushed back down, I realize that clear waters aren’t for me.

 

See, I was born into a life of misery,

Never to reach my full capacity.

 

As that dark cloud looms over me, threatening to swallow me whole,

I know that if I don’t fight it, it won’t leave me alone.

 

But I’ve been fighting for so long, it’s never done,

This is a battle that will never be won.

 

My mind, my brain is under attack,

Shit! I can’t rewind this life, change and get something back!

 

What is it like to be a child?

What is it like to run wild?

To be overstood, loved & free? I am an adult, no time for me.

 

See the answers I’ll never know,

because a long time ago,

damaged seeds were reaping what they sewed.

 

I hate my life and all that’s in it!  Besides my sister and my kids,

I don’t see the purpose of it.

 

Why am I here!!? What is the use?  I tired of all this abuse!

I ‘m exhausted, and my stance is weak, like that of an old lady

Just as if I was a newborn baby…

 

I was born,

 into a life of misery.

Never to reach my full capacity.

©10/7/2000 Maxwanette A Poetess

 

 

“The Poetic Storm” Vol. 2