I am so excited about the up coming event of my book launch. I need your help in creating a buzz for this incredible work. To wet your poetic whistle a bit, I am going to share one of my poems about the Holocaust based on a painting that I experience that was painted by a Black Victim of Hitler, Josef Nassy.
via Ashay Speaks: Poetry on Courage and Black Survivors of the Holocaust
Ashay Speaks: Poetry on Courage and Black Survivors of the Holocaust is a unique and timely literary contribution to the humanities of the twenty-first century. It is a result of research she conducted, while in an Art and Humanities graduate program. Ashay Speaks about life and love as she tells the stories through her poetic ventures. She focuses on her ancestry and create art that edifies the African American community, with a rich tapestry of language, that engulfs the brains of the reader, with the nuances of her literary style. Ashay uses the imagination to bring fourth images that satisfies all levels of poetic intrigue. Her works brings The Black Victims of Hitler out of obscurity, which is a little-known fact among the general public and rarely part of the African American History discourse in academic settings and cultural events….Continue reading the book discription on her web-site http://www.ashayspoetrynmusic.com
These verses are excerpts from my poem as a tribute to Miles Davis and John Coltrane.
Come let, those with their bitter attitudes, loose their way, so what
We kneel for a brand-new day. . .Peaceful protest
M L King would approve, feel that syncopated groove, so what
We are onto a better tomorrow, doing greater than our mothers or fathers
David killed Goliath, Cane slew Able and Malcom’s chicken are coming home to roost, so what
Life’s lessons will return again, if you don’t learn them now, So what
Miles and Coltrane, sounded the alarm, edifying the black nation
So what, they don’t like it, our black a-s are no longer chattel, so what
To God, to us we built this country, so what, your denial does not matter. . ..
Karen Bass Regulation Session
It was a typical Tuesday night
The moon was out and I was relaxing
I stumble upon Jeff Sessions’ interview with Karen Bass
Karen Bass was asking all the right questions her impeccable timing taught me a lesson
Jeff Sessions was stumbling over his words
his beady little eyes swiftly searching for the right verbs, with the look of contempt on his face
A smug, descended on his countenance when asked “Who in the FBI has the authority to authorize a report on Black Extremist Identity Groups that want to kill that police. . . O yeah there is more!
Haiku
The Land is your land
Or is this the land your stole
This land is ours too
I am so glad you asked.This is how I answered the query.
I am a wordsmith, poet, spoken word artist, and singer/song writer. I create and add value to the arts in the city. I convey a message of love, piece and hope. I put into words what others feel in their hearts. I teach about the African Diaspora experience. I am clear about my vision as an artist and I enable people to experience the humanities through my visions of artfulness. It is my aim to bring stories about me personal experiences and the greater community out of obscurity. Some of my work focuses on the issues of injustice in our society, some of my work presents historical art work of others that have contribute immensely to our Diaspora experience, but little is known or discussed about their artistic contributions; such as blacks who were Hitlers victims and survived Nazi concentration camps. I am here to raise awareness and of my culture; use my voice so that the masses are knowledgable and can seek peace for the greater good.
Good Morning America
(in my Bernie MC voice, I surely do miss him)
America we are head for the brink of disaster if we don’t get our priorities in order.
Humanity is the only thing that will keep us growing, thriving and surviving.
That thing that we all are looking for is love.
Its the thing that comes for above.
Above the madness the clouds are nothing existent
Good Morning America, rise to the occasion of forgiveness
Admit your mistakes and you will grow in grace.
Our children deserve a chance to run in a race free of hatred, bigoted scenery
Good morning America, when to bombs bust in the air, no-one will care.
“What set you from, your klan, creed or the color of your skin.”
There are not lethal weapons that just take out the poor and leave the rich behind
Wake up America from the sleep on mediocracy and advance in the dance of discovering other space and times.
Good morning my sweet land of freedom rining from the majestic hill tops of Georgia
Good morning America from the shores of the Pacific beaches that are nestled in the Arcadia of the oranges groves past
Good Morning America (to Be continues)
“Just Like Music”
My friend doesn’t understand Poetry. . .
“It needs come music” he says . . .
Oh, there is more, in my up coming book; Ashay’s Speak
I recently celebrated my birthday.
I wrote a poem because a friend of mine gave me a pretty journal with flowers on it. Her request that I write my pretty poetry in that journal. So, I obliged her and wrote these verses.
“My Garden of Friends”
Birthday’s are special
My garden of friends grow strong
April showers, Fall
ashayspoetrynmusic 