letter

I’m An Activist, Not A Racist

Hold Up!
Just received a letter accusing me of being racist.
Hmmmm, sounds like we are making assumptions with no real basis.
You would be wrong all around,
because what I say you may not be ready to face it.
Read it thoroughly, it’s beyond race Miss.
My message of pride and empowerment is not pro-blackness.
You’re getting it mixed up with matter of fact-ness.
Me being racist is like spiting my face by cutting off my nose.
My chief editor is white, didn’t you know?
Isis Rain, a real soul sister understanding the plight.
The movement see’s no color; black, brown, red, yellow or white.
FYI, I love people of all colors. I don’t care, they can be purple or gray.
Hey, Joey tell your moms and brother I said what’s up! That’s my white homie from VA.
And let’s not forget my white ex-girlfriends, yeah some of them almost got me killed.
Father and brother Prejudice; hello Tiffany Wells in Lewisville.
My partner from the world, Joe Duffer a.k.a Jon B.
A white man I broke bread with, hmmmm… I guess you really don’t know me.
Just because I may be insolent, tactless, brazen or brash;
don’t misinterpret what I say, present or past.
I know, I know… on racial topics, I get a bit aggressive.
I’m atypical in my writing, not preaching hate, but I must remain progressive.
Humanity is what I love, that means ALL people.
I feel we are of one make, everyone is equal.
Though many of us were told and taught things
that were morally and socially wrong. It could’ve been through our
parents, friends, T.V., media, books and even through songs.
I couldn’t care less about the color of any person’s skin.
Deep down, whether you admit it nor not, we are all akin.
But, me being a racist just tickles me pink.
That’s a new one on me, something I hate to think.
Although you feel I am, I must be saying something right.
Otherwise most of my supporters and followers wouldn’t be white…

DeVyne Tha Messenjah

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Your Letter

I wait now…
Every day, every evening for your letter.
Reminiscing…
Your voice, your smile, your hand, your eyes.
Waiting for the officer to say;
“Payne, you have mail to read.”
to ruminate, to laugh, to think…
to contemplate my next reply
but the guard passes my cell.
Now, I’m aching, lonely, waiting, hoping
to hear anything; a joke, a song
an old story about the past.
I wait…
Then, the guard comes back and says,
“Payne, they have you in the wrong cell.”
A letter…
your scent, your smell,
your words at last.
I smile, elated; my day has begun…

– Thomas D. Payne

Special Delivery

Where do I start?  It’s been six years, I miss you woman, you’re still my heart.

Tell Grandma to stop trippin’, I love her too.  She always get’s much respect,

but this one right here is for you.

Many things has happened since you went away, I’m missing your guidance

and advice on a day to day.

Sometimes I still cry, yeah, can’t lie I do.  Try as I might, I have no one like you.

No one understands me but Pennie’s starting to be on that page.

Yes, we’re together, you said don’t point the finger if you’re guilty.

Comprehension comes with age…

Trying to hold the family together, Mama, it’s hard as hell.

My voice is losing authority the more I dwell in this cell.

Vinnie writes consistently, Jay and the girls stay in touch

Nette is doing okay but we don’t talk that much.

I made you a promise, just know I won’t quit or let up.

You had confidence I could do it so I will keep my head up.

Life ain’t perfect, you weren’t perfect either, still I respect what you did.

All the love you gave me, I passed along to my kids.

Speaking of, Icy is a young woman, now beautiful and mild.

Tae is doing well, working hard, got a little girl. Yes, your great- grandchild.

Pennie was relaying at visit something Icy put her through.

We both laughed out loud saying, “You know what Linda would do”.

We laughed even louder because the answer, we already knew.

Your parenting may have been unorthodox, but still I say “thank you”.

You were a kid trying to raise a kid, did the best you could.

Trying to get your life in order, you weren’t superb, but still it was good.

All the good times we had, I replay them and won’t forget.

Out of nothing you made something, we enjoyed it, would never fret.

You were more than a mother; my sister, confidant and friend.

Before I was able to get back to you, it has come to an end.

Yeah, I’m crying again… My feelings I can’t hide.

Remember you said, sometimes let it go. Never keep it bottled inside.

Hah! Didn’t think I was listening, I was. Now, I’m convinced.

My book and streets gave way to common sense.

Smile, indeed it took a second. I know it’s a major growth spurt,

I’m sorry you can’t see it in person.

Oh, Obama didn’t need your vote, he won in a landslide.

Now he’s in his second term, showing gray, he can’t hide.

What else? We had a family reunion, yes our side, heard it was nice.

No griping, no complaining, no snags, no fights.

Hmmm, must of been no drinks outside of sodas or any smoke.

Guess people buried the hatchets, letting old grudges go.

Anyway, just catching you up, you are missed and still needed.

Haven’t forgot anything you told me, even when you scolded me, I needed it.

Wish you had received my last card and letter that Mother’s Day.

But you moved on, so I take time now to say…

You are appreciated…then, now, through and through.

Gone but never forgotten, I will always love you.

P.S. By the way, tell Grandma to stop fussing and cussing – The Cowboys won today…

– Thomas D. Payne