INHUMANE

Today, Inhumane tugged at me,
Spoke to me,
And tore me to the core:
“Teenage girl gang raped outside
A Richmond high school ‘door’.”

The tears stung
My face was numb.
Emotions just clawed at each other.
‘Cause what I physically WANTED to do -
Was dumb.

So I wrote “release”…

“Dumb bastards!”
I screamed.
“That was somebody’s daughter!”

Guess it was a day too late,
For y’all to be taught
That she is a Queen.

“Dumb bastards!”
I screamed.
“You were SOMEBODY'S son!”

You could have been-

NO, it IS too late.

A throne for you?

There is none.

Copyright 2009
C. Thomas
a.k.a. brownsugatou


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Monday, October 26, 2009 Posted in | , | 1 Comments »

Great new website to post your poetry and spoken word. Please tell Michellle that brownsugatou sent you! But, don't forget to share your work and give feedback.

SpokenWurd- Your place for expression


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Sunday, October 25, 2009 Posted in | | 0 Comments »

This poem was written by a rising poet and spoken word artist who has graced these pages before. brownsugatou is more than honored to share his gift and his work with you again. Think of this piece as a poetical reminder that stagnation is not an option. Ladies and gentlemen - Jason Mars.


"Wrote a riot today, captured the burning of building that boast understanding. Jotted Juliard on the page, in other words I captured the pen." - Jason Mars

THE IMPACT OF TIME

"You were once a pretty puzzle.
What made you this shriveled riddle of ridicule?
Pitiful in every sense of the word.
You went from masterpiece to travesty.
Casually becoming a casualty to time.
Gradually traveling from the safe haven of your mind.

Time has a way of creeping into a bright room
And slowly dimming the lights.
Death crept in killing your youth,
Your blind eyed optimism, replacing it with elderly judgment.

Time manipulates thought processes
Into processing thoughts in a different manner.
You now manage your failures by prematurely counting others out.
You fell victim to doubt, this monster that disguised herself as concern.
You now see young love as a means to aged let downs.
You see a smile as nothing more than the bars that cage ill intent.
You went from must get, to being content.

Time has a way of trapping ones wants, slowly urging neglect.
It slowly wraps reality around the neck like a noose.
You retire after you tire from your attempt at getting loose.
This trap is set in one’s own mind,
We learn to focus on time,
Rather than what we can do during the time we are given.

Clocks corrupt the carefree world that we live in.
And you are now a victim who fell from grace,
Please regain your footing before it's too late."

Copyright 2009
Jason Mars
All Rights Reserved


Now seriously folks, what have you done lately? Remember, stagnation is not an option.
Jason Mars has spoken .

For more on this rising poet and spoken word artist,
Visit his youtube page at: youtube.com/jadenallen
Or see the Q& A w/ Jason Mars: Jason Mars Q & A.

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Friday, October 23, 2009 Posted in | , , | 0 Comments »

#sistapoet or #sistapoets... Get it? Got it? Good. Now do it! 

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Saturday, October 17, 2009 Posted in | , | 0 Comments »

Yep, blogs get lonely and bored looking at virtual white pages sometimes. As I write these words I wonder if I am here for you or either I was bothered by my concsience. "Got to brownsugatou.com and write... experts say blog, and blog often young lady." Sometimes the words just don't magically appear... (sniff, sniff.... writer's block). Anyway, to my readers thank you for allowing me to share me... btw...I do this for US.

Peace and blessings y'all.
brownaugatou


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Did you say, "how did brownsugatou come to this conclusion?"

My son was outside playing with his friend David the other day.

David knocked on the door, I open it and my son was in tears. His friend says "Armand called me a preschooler!" Armand initially tried to deny it, started crying again then admitted that he called David a preschooler (David is in the 2nd grade by the way). I talked to Armand about calling his friend a name then made him apologize.

However, the real question in my mind was why did Armand call David a preschooler in the first place?

Answer: David called him a first grader.(????) However, Armand IS in the 1st grade.

Turns out, Armand was trying to impress a friend, a girl, who happens to be in the 3rd grade by telling her that he's also in the 3rd grade. So, his ego got bruised when David called him - a 1st grader.

I'm just sayin', men don't lie about their age!

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Monday, October 12, 2009 Posted in | | 0 Comments »













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