GET YOUR HAID DID!

From the neighborhood salon,
To your moms front lawn
From cornrolls,
To African braids
From your worst perms,
To a bad hair day
Tracks to bees wax,
Extensions to new dimensions
From Happily Nappy,
To Short & Sassy
From hiding it under a cap,
To busting those naps
From Twisty’s to Dreads,
Bronze to Shocking Red
Go ahead Sistah, get your hair did.
© Roslyn Stockett

YOUNG SISTER GONE ASTRAY

Even though she was barely seventeen
Most people in the hood know her as a whore;
Over the past years her urine aint been clean;
So we all know what she's tricking for.

She walks for miles down highways
up and down dark streets;
Moving in and out of unknown
cars trying to remaine discreet.

She had her baby boy at age 14,
but he's no longer in her custody;
Kicked out on the street at age 15,
since she and her parents always disagree.

She would cry night after night yet
know one would wipe her tears;
She got lost in society living
her life on the streets in fear.

She don't even care if she gets the infected
what the hell is she living for;
With every man she puts her health at risk
Sometimes many would leave her sore.

Some men would become violent leaving
her with physical scars;
They bruise & abuse her since she belong
to the streets in and out of unknown cars.

So many young sisters had gone astray, after
thing went wrong or they lost their way.
Facial expressions scream for help, you can see it in their eyes
If you ever care to get closer you can might even hear their cries

Our young Sisters need your help to get back on track .
We have to mentor & support them, we can no longer turn on backs.

Roslyn Stockett

September 26, 2005

The Baltimore Blues
Today I searched every street in this city,
When I heard your voice mail saying that you were leaving me;
Went on the avenue to talk to Lil’ Will & Skeet;
They said they saw you and your new girl
downtown on Howard Street.
Searched in the village up until Hillen Road;
But Janice said you were hanging with Cooper, well that’s what I was told.
Went over to the eastside to check out Preston & Milton.
So I was told you were with Eric G, riding in a 
car showing off your new girlfriend.
Drove down to Monument Street to check inside the barbershop;
Kevin said she stopped by earlier today for a fade and a little of the top.
Went out to Park Heights ran into Piggy and she said you aint their;
Said you came into a large sum of money and ran off so you wouldn’t have to share.Took Coldspring over to Northwood when I thought I spotted you at the 7-11 on Marble Hall. But it was a young thug on 
the pay phone leaning against the wall.
Honey I don’t know why you decided to drop your bad news; 
but I’m tire of running after you baby you’re giving me the Baltimore Blues.

There's something beautiful about
the way Jazz flow
The way it keeps me motivated
as I go
I , myself love listening to Jazz
every Sunday's afternoon;
I would load my cd player of my
favorite tunes.
Jazz has a way of clearing your
mind or establishing a though
that you've pondered at one time.
I write a lot of poetry listening
to Jazz music, It's cool, it's soothing
and the flow guides me thru it.
Boney James, Coltrane, Miles,
Ramsey Lewis, even a lil' Kenny G
can help me enjoy it.
It's all about Jazz.

RAS

Every morning
I sit and wait
I should be job hunting
but I hestitate
it's hard to find a job
after being locked up
and I can't stand on a corner
with a sign and a cup.
So I sit, I wait, I drink, I sleep
while opportunity passes me by
I'm not saying that I don't try
But shit gets hard and my girl cries
Because she's on my back and ready to say bye.
So everyday I sit and wait
while my love for the working world turns to hate
But like I said there aint to many jobs a man can take
After spending years behind bars.

I take one sip
to quench my thirst
to lick my lips
sometimes it's my first
thing that i do to start
my day, can't say why
it just be's that way.
Something inside puts
the blues in me.
Or maybe some things
just may be.

Welcome To My Neighborhood


Thru Debris,
desecration and dysfunctions,
We manage to bred,
raise and live in this neighborhood.
My stomping ground,
my place to be, my around the way
Where everybody knows
my name; and all those who knows me got
my back. Where dreams are create
and shattered in one thought.
Yet thru all of our disadvantages
we still manage to survive.
They can hide us in huts
behind lead painted roach infested walls;
yet our plants continue to grow in our windows.
Promising us better days ahead.
Welcome to my neighborhood.

A tree grows in the city
breaking through concrete
walls, surviving on God's sun
and an occasional rain.


So she grows, free of
the grime and crime,
the fast hustle and bustle
man can not stop time nor
nature from continuing it's mission.

Still she grows, surviving on the grace of GOD like my people.