Introduction:

We are within a storm facing a struggle over mental illness. I fail, I rise, I fall, I
stand tall. The patient is learning to cope with illness. The storm is surviving being
mentally disturbed. The patient is a victim of their own mind. The illness owns
them and only their pride can save them, heal them and deliver them from the
raft from sinking deeper until a hole they dug and cannot get out. The illness
imprisons their minds. They must struggle with the devil to find peace in their
hearts so they can live a healthy life again. The voice within is a disturbed voice of
confusion. The patient identifies with loss of memory. They struggle with the loss
of their past with living the present being reminded of their past convictions they
ask for help.

Characters:
The Patients: Paranoid Schizophrinics
The Voices: Disturbed voices they hear saying negative things about them that
lead them to mental illness.
The Delusions: Confused feelings of distorted thoughts that are not real.
The Therapist: Someone who tries to walk the patient through their illness
teaching them to cope with their reality.

The Voice Within cries,

Miss you, but your still here
your chair is empty
but memories are still there.
I placed a space in my heart
I have imprints of your smile,
the family stories told
but made us laugh
and got me through and through.
Good talks about history
that made me whole
I will never forget you
for what loves worth.
You are all I've got
losing you hurts
there is nothing in the world
I miss more - the good times,
Sneaking ice cream at night
with our ankles swollen tight.
We were both obese
with high risk of death
we struggled with the disease
but never gave up the fight.
I was the light that kept us strong
And you was the spirit that lives on.
Some day we will meet again,
until we meet again,
until we meet again...

Patient Delusions:
One and two tie my shoes
Why am I ashamed
I don't fit in
My head bowed down
Am I ashamed of having black skin
Three and four close the doors
Wonder why my back hurts
My bra is tight
My booties shakes
From left to right
Five and six pick up sticks
In the air, now both feet down
Wiggle your hips and clown about
Seven and eight close them pearly gates
Just lost my job and got mouths to feed
Baby's daddy in prison and I got needs
Nine and ten start all over again.
They took my baby from me
Because of the color of my skin
been hurting ever since
without a reason to live

Patient: The sound of rum, rum, rum

Ran against the chains
Running the wheels of the sidewalk
The tongue of the paddles floating into space
Facing life against the winds
The clamping sounds of metal spokes
Wheels rolling, rolling, rolling
The circumference of pie 360 degrees Fahrenheit
The seal of a motorcade-cycling securely
Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce
Running out of time
The teeth of the piano chanted
Its tunes by biting at the notes
Clamping to its gums
Opening wide its tonsils
Began to wine in the harmony of music
As beats pressed against the keys
Limited space pounding heart
Limited time pulsating out of breath
And then the climax
And the moment of silence

Therapist: The words lie within words

the lines contain measurements
the sound repeats sounds
Skipping beats across a blank page.
Dialog defines meaning
absent to reasons beyond imagination
the context is compound to reasons
often mistaken dialog.
The words, a figurative language
Worldly expressions
Options, opinions, views
from a diverse reality.
Alice: (swinging a knife at the ghost) Please go away.
Voices: (appearing and vanishing) You ought to be scared of me
Alice: (falling to her knees) Go away devil. You are not invited in my life. Go away.
Voices: (approaching her face and vanishing) Oooo, Oooo, Im going to get you.
Alice :( breaking down in tears, remembering the voices in her head were saying)
you are stupid, you are not about nothing. You better quit. We wanted you to fail.
You do not belong here.
Voices: Youre asking for it. Who do you think you are? Were your worst
nightmare.
Alice: (swaying the knife in her hand at air) Nooo, Nooo. I cannot listen to you
anymore.
Alice: (Covering her ears) this has gone on for too long. Stop it, please stop it.
Voices: No one would like you. NO one wants to be your friend. You better be
scared. You do not belong here.
Patient Voices: (talking to ghost into space)
I thought I'll never come to this
I thought I gave my heart to you
Not like this, we come to part
Too close, too far, the river is deep
I thought, as far inside, in the worst way
I'd drop in for at last, far passed, to see eye to eye
I yearned, I learned, to hear. my last cry
I yearned, I learned I swallowed my pride
A blank stare, a beam of light in the night
I held the gun close, pressed against my heart
Broken by your image, holding me for the last time
Our love was raw, straight up and kind
I listened, you cheated on me for the last time
The gun cocked, pointed, ready to die
To kill the poisonous lies you told
For the last time
Oh, baby this, oh baby that
Please baby, please. stuck in my mind
My mind is playing trick on me
When I gave you my heart
For death do we part
I cried my last cry,
I said my last good bye
You look me in the eye
And tell me we're through
And it does not me I'm played
One shut eye, open lips, twisted tongue
Was last hug the kiss of death
You were all I got, got nothing left to give
The touch of your hands
The curve of your lips
Your soft spoken words
Have come to this
The tense grip of how you hold me near
Is the grip of hate when I pulled the trigger
My last moan, my last sigh, my last groan
The kiss of death, we see eye to eye
No love don't love nobody no more
A gun shot is in the air every night by her house. People walking throwing rocks at
Alice window. They kicked in the doors last week and threw a rock in her window.
Alice was afraid to leave the house in fear she might be killed. With paranoia,
everyone was in on this. The voices were getting back at Alice and there was
nothing Alice could do about it. If she was shot, they would say it was suicide.
This parody expels the mental illness of delusions and reality. Alice was a paranoid
schizophrenic. Things for Alice was beyond what is real and surreal. Often things
would appear not always as it seemed. In school, her homework would change as
if the students would know what she was thinking on her exam. The answers
posted on the board were hers but her homework answers were wrong or
diferent than the night before. The altercations in her sleep was that people were
touching her, or putting pillows over her face and would scratch her at night.
Afraid, when she awoke there was no one in sight. The images felt real to her and
she could not control them. Alice heard voices from heaven that would remind of
her of a past she never had. The hallucinations and allusions of the threats of
claws, witches, and creatures were out to get her made her scared. The ghost
would appear at night screaming in the house as she heard footsteps waling on
the floor as her heart rate increased. She was afraid to look, to find the truth
because she was too weak to protect herself from the staged voices in her head.
The scenes she experienced were allusions, or a figment of her imagination no
one believed any one would threaten Alice. Alice had a nice quiet personality. She
had no friend and no family. Alice felt alone in the world, hopeless that there was
nothing she could do to get rid of this paranoia afraid to be locked in the mental
prison again. Alice conviction were the sins from her past that hunted her. She was
thought to be a lot, a crazy women and so the source of her problem stole 4 of her
children, all girls. Everyone believed the source that was stalking her. No one could
diver believe Alice. The source was too powerful illusions. Her paranoia was
controlled by Haldol, Zyprexa and Seroquel medication. Alice would hug her pillow
tight in fear that the ghost would kill her someday. The voices in her head were
from every race that threatened Alice that remains unseen. No one can hear the
voices but Alice. If Alice were murdered they would say she committed suicide.
Voices: Broken, He left me dry, in the blistering heat
Cold blooded, I stood on the curb
Of Tara, with nothing left in me
I swallowed my pride
I felt I had died, empty and alone
My emotions, hidden with anger
Inside my heart I hurt bad
I hid on cloud 9, he took away
The love I needed to survive
I stood homeless
The cold winter night
He walked out on me
She was no better at love than me
I was hot at her age
Men would flock to get a piece of me
He stole my goodies and left me dry
Isnt much I can do but fall down?
Down on my knees I begged don't leave
And he's not coming back
I surrender
What do I do now?
Pick up where he left of
Love wont be the same
I gave him my heart
I gave him my mind
I swallowed my pride
For the very last time
The comfort and support
Was the inner strength
I needed to carry on
There is no turning back
He's gone,
I stand alone, in the freezing cold
Of December and damn
Im gone miss that nigger
I rest shallow on the curb
Got 47
A cold winter night
In December

Patient: I am worried about losing.

Therapist: What do you have to lose?
Patient: I am losing my mind. I need coping skills to make it through this.
Therapist: You are kind. You are nice. You are important.
Therapist: The voices in your mind are not real. You must learn to shut them out
to focus on the important things in life like your accomplishments.
Patient: I try to hold it in but loud outburst come when I scream. The voices are
getting to me. I can no longer focus. I have problems concentrating on reality.
Therapist: (The therapist turns on her recorder) tell me about your delusions.
Patient: (Having disconnected thoughts) I was sitting on my face, I begin to think
about my childhood. I rose up and fell down more than once and got back up.
Something was holding me back. Can you interpret my dreams doctor?
Therapist: (Calling dispatch) I think I am on to you. The dreams seem real. Tell me
more.
Patient: (wringing her hands) the voices tell me things. The voices told me that I
was too dumb and ugly to exist. When I try I am reminded of what the voices say
that I should quit.
Therapist: You are not very successful and will never make it. You should have
failed in school. Who would listen to you? You do not deserve this.
Patient: That is an affirmation to the threats I hear in my mind. I am afraid it is
time. I might get shot over this.
Therapist: You are watching too much television and reading too many is-fi books.
You need to learn to get a fix on reality. I am assigning you coping skills. Everything
you say is not true. You must stop lying and face reality.
Patient: (calmly replies) what is real to you is not real to me.
The patient is sufering from dementia. She has problems understanding the
diference between reality and fantasy so her delusions are fixated on dreams. She
is too uneducated to explain what she is facing so she makes of grandiose lies that
no one can identify with because in real life no one goes through what the patient
is going through. People including her therapist blocks points out that will heal the
patient from her disease. The patient is afraid of the inevitable of dying because
she has lost her since of reality. Her reality is that she is crazy for existing and
coping is her only means to survive.
Voices: You are about nothing. Your stupid, dumb and ugly and will never amount
to nothing
Patient: (ignoring the voices) I am a strong women. I have a lot of heart. I give a
lot. Too much to turn back.
Voices: You dont belong here. Go away. We dont want you here.
Patient: (staring into space) I have done as much as anyone. I tried to hard to give
up. I have been here too long to give in. Go away demons in my head. You are not
welcome in my life. Stop it.
Voices: You are not about nothing. You aint shit. You should give up. You should
have failed. You are a failure. (chanting) Quit, quit, quit, quit, quit
Patient: Its almost over. I can not stop now, Ive gone to far by faith to quit now.
Voices: Changing) Quit, quit, quit, quit while your ahead. There is nothing you can
do about it. Quit, quti, quit
Patient: (leaving the crowd) Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahh! (she fell into tears, crying)
Nooooooooooo!
Mental illness people reflect on the voices in their heads they hear that are
negative. The negative voices often out weigh the postitive voices. It is when the
demons take over in her head that they lose their since of reality and go crazy. It
takes a strong person to say no to the voices. The patients therapy works. She is
learning how to cope with her illness. In another hour, she will be home, in peace
and quit living a normal life again.

Patient delusions: I thought I was pregnant. My doctor gave me an ultra sound.

What happened to my child. Is it still in there. They did not take it away from me. I
wanted my baby.
Voices: you are not about nothing. You meant nothing to him. He loves another
woman.
Patient delusions: (talking to the ghosts) So you took my child. There was no child.
I break down every time I see children. And you tell me I can not love my own
child.
Voices: You did not deserve to be a mother. We gave your child to someone you
never met, you hardly knew.
Patient delusions: (holding her head in her hands crying) You do not understand. I
wanted my child. The child is what gave me reason to live, to give up suicide
thoughts. I fear I have no reason to live without raising my child.
Patient Voices: (yelling out to the ghost) I am a part of him and he a part of me...
The man that was sincere enough to love me was who I fell in love with. The man
who was afraid to admit he is the father
was the coward I grew ashamed of deserted me. For when the man I once loved
left me whole He took away a part of me.
Voices: Nobody wants to be your friend. You are nobody. No child deserves you to
be a mother. You are too imature to raise your child. You are too stupid to be a
mother. He does not love you.
Patient Delusions: (Sobbing to the ghost pleading) I hurt because the only man I
loved and trusted with my heart never loved me or his child. What is a woman to
do? I am nothing without love. You hurt me. He hurt me.
Voices: (flashing sheets around her moving into space) Quit, quit, quit, quit.
Patient: (Holding her arms to God) God give me strength to overcome the illness
that surrounds me. Protect me from evil. Grant me peace and serenity to live life.
This fight is not over
Voices: (chanting) quit, quit, quit...
The voices begin to disappear. She is a victim of her own madness. There never
was a baby. Often under stress menally ill people begin to think things that are not
true. They can get caught up in the emotions of holding things in until they
explode into bigger problems. Under medication and therapy they begin to heal.
Conclusion:
I am employed as a gaming lab assistant in the Hospitality Department of 18
years experienc3e with the College of Southern Nevada. Prior to working in the
casino lab at CSN, I was employed as a lead cashier at Follett Book Store. I have
worked amongst the best.

In many ways of engaging life-long experiences in the class room as I will

apply to my field of work. With your program, I will become more motivated and
task oriented at work. My speaking skills and communication will be my greatest
asset at work in engaging in daily correspondence to my colleagues. Being able to
speak efectively and write proficiently at work is important. Discovery of math
computation and quantitative theoretical analysis will give me a better
understanding to my field of work.

I am 47 years old and I am a female. I received my undergraduate degree

from UNLV in Workforce Education in 2010. I was accepted to enroll in graduate
school with the college of Education for the spring of 2016.
I am a self-
published writer. Writing poetry is my passion. I found my voice writing poems.
Writing for me is a form of expressing ideas on cultural themes in the media that
I write about through personal experience. My strengths in writing is being able to
write about topics I feel strongly about. My weaknesses in writing is conveying the
message in a way the reader will identify with.

My writing as an undergraduate has been a learning experience where it

was a work in progress. I feel that I have improved my writing skills from when I
took my first English class. The more classes in writing poetry I took, I learned to
express my own ideas more clearly than before. I feel that I will benefit writing is a
form of communication that builds knowledge. With practice, I will develop the
skill to write better in my field.
 The poem must have a beginning, middle and end. The theme must be
universal. The ideas presented in the poem must be clear. I learned that I should
not use clichs and to avoid using pronouns. That revision of the poem is
important. I read my poems out loud to check for dramatic errors and to see if my
poems make since. I want to read more than once to see if the ideas I am trying to
say using metaphors and symbolism is relative to the idea I am writing about.

I feel that by having the right to freedom of speech, I am advocating the

freedom to express myself. When I write poetry, I have a voice. I create
meaningful words into lines of a poem. I am able to express feelings and emotions
through words that people wanted to say but could not put it into meaningful
expression.

Pen allows me to have my voice heard to community of poets. I am able to

write a form of expression in words I cannot normally speak. I am learning
disabled. Poetry has given me a voice to write about themes and topics that have
not been discussed. I am able to think and reason when I write about love, life and
culture. I never write anything hateful. I do not hate anyone. I put myself in the
mind of the topic I am writing about in the form of expression. I write about what
it means, how I feel, how I grew up and how I relate to the world. When I write I
am conveying my life story in a genre - poetry. I am creating a since of awareness
about what it means to be me and how I associate with the world.

My poems are not protest against another race. My poems reflect the
feelings of everyone. The topics I discuss in a line of a poem is something
everyone can relate to. My poems are Civil Rights poems that reflect a modern
movement on the black culture in telling what it means to feelings and have
emotional response to being black in America. I hope people can relate to what I
write so that they can understand that everything will be alright, to let everyone
know there are people who feel just like you do no matter who you to put you at
ease to find peace when you read my poems.

I discovered that when you discover yourself, you begin to invent your
voice. The best gift you can give yourself is to share your talents with others.
When I write I ask me to ask myself is this really me. I am representing a reflection
of me when I write and then my journey begins. I am a poet.

I would like to present to you a few daily motion poems that I wrote about
love, life and the pursuit of happiness. I have found that the key to pursuing
happiness, is to discover your voice within writing a poem.

This collection of poems is written about a love relationship between a man

and a women that did not work out and the girl still has feelings of love for the
man she loved. I wrote these poems to take you back to your very first time you
fell in love.

I could feel love in

the way you held my hand
the way you squeezed my waist
the way you held me close
Your sweet caress,
Your gentle strokes...
It was the way you made me laugh
the way I opened up to you
how comfortable I felt being next to you
How happy you make me feel inside
When I was alone you made me smile
It was our last time together that
You held me tight
We cried as one in each others arms
The warmth of your body pressed against mine
The memory of your kiss against my forehead
I cried, I hurt to walk out on something good
With the thought of pain to lose the man I loved.

I waited for your return

But you never came
One hour, two years, for eternity
But lies don't hold under water.
A single red rose
is all it took
you promised me you would never leave
and I believed every word.
I found it hard that you walked out
and I respected this,
until I realized what our love meant
Tears pour down with swollen eyes
I will always love you.

Scars can heal with love

The day I saw you break down and cry
I felt sad you heart was broken
I felt enraged about how much you hurt
I felt ashamed that you were broken
I felt the blame of uncertainty
I felt anger swarmed with hungry guilt
I felt humbled that you
Were willing to share this emotion with me
And with that, I gave you my heart
I shared my love
And I showed you empathy, knowing
You loved someone else

NO more secrets
No more lies
I mourn for the one I love.
I say this from the heart
I felt loved deep inside
I never forgot how love felt
I will never regret
what love meant.
I never forgot our first kiss
how you held me close
what love meant.
I accepted your love
with interment trust.
Letting feeling inside
the regret of losing you
not wanting to let go
Yearning to hold on
Understanding I loved
Waiting for your return.

My heart ruptures
at the sound of heart beats
against the tides of time.
I embrace each wave
With caressing skin
My thoughts ponder
Softly with emotions
Sounds invisible to light
The stillness of the air
Embraces my thighs
Lovingly I feel warmth,
You holding me close
Our eyes meet at a distance
Your lips pressed against mine.

As your tongue moves inside my mouth

I begin to taste your sweet breath
My heart cries
Tears dropping into the sea
you stroke me with your hand
I close my eyes afraid to touch
how I changed into a woman
Afraid this may be the last time
only for one night

I remember my first
He was the temperament
of my brass crescendo
Rain down on me
Let me feel the notes from tempo
Keying in rhythm of cognate
My heart pound beats of desire
Let the notes escape the fire
Into a metaphoric hold of dreams
Tantric rhythm, droning sax
Poetic verse calling back
As eyes wide shut yearning desire
I felt loved by the tunes
That blow my mind with resonance
I feel loved by his essence
Moved by passion magnificent
Tunes float into dreary space
Drifting into extreme extract
It was only one love
And he was my only true love
He was my first love
The sound music
Brought me back in time
to the very first time
I made love
He was strong to hold back tears of resentment
To hold his tears when love could not say
To hold back his feelings inside
When he needed the space to try
He failed to recognize
His weakness to love with desire
And I did not break him from his peace of mind
Instead I gave him the support
And prayer that his dreams don't falter

You hurt me with the things you say

The words you say with honesty
Like when you told me
I was immature for you
When I was afraid to admit
I loved you
But I did not know how
to express my love for you
I matured from within my heart
As you mended the pain of hurt
The pain of guilt
The pain of fear
Eighteen years have passed
We reaped and sowed with regret
I cherish the love we had
You showed me how to feel
And I know the diference
Of what means
It is more than the words
we choose to say
For real true love comes from within
Empty Love

What do you do with an empty heart?

Would you die at this moment?
Would you break down and cry out, for the one you love?
Would you change your ways, to make him happy?
Would you drop everything, to be with the man you love?

Ideas, dreams, fantasies

Drifting within space
Silenced, I
Longing to be held
Longing to be touched
Longing to be admired

What would you do with an empty heart?

To what extent would you go, to have him back in your life?
Would you jump out a plane?
Would you bend over backwards to win his love?
Would you give him all your worldly possessions, to be with your only true love?

Hands, skin, lips, tongue

Silenced, I am
Wanting, needing, desiring
To be told I am loved
To be cared for
That he respects my needs
That he encourages my dreams
Love hurts in many places
in darkness and light,
it has many phases.
We break up to make up
We take chances
Words go spinning inside
Of an empty heart and
Closed a mind

An empty heart

Caressing voices cry inside my head

I fear the pain of losing
I regret the pain
I pray for forgiveness
Words spinning inside
an empty heart and mind

What would you do with an empty heart?

Is love worth fighting for?
Is love worth dying for?

What do you do with an empty heart?

All love burns inside

Broken of
Ideas
Fantasies
Dreams

Love burns

I thought I'll never come to this

I thought I gave my heart to you
Not like this, we come to part
Too close, too far, the river is deep
I thought, as far inside, in the worst way
I'd drop in for at last, far passed, to see eye to eye
I yearned, I learned, to hear. my last cry
I yearned, I learned I swallowed my pride
A blank stare, a beam of light in the night
I held the gun close, pressed against my heart
Broken by your image, holding me for the last time
Our love was raw, straight up and kind
I listened, you cheated on me for the last time
The gun cocked, pointed, ready to die
To kill the poisonous lies you told
For the last time
Oh, baby this, oh baby that
Please baby, please. stuck in my mind
My mind is playing trick on me
When I gave you my heart
For death do we part
I cried my last cry,
I said my last good bye
You look me in the eye
And tell me we're through
And it does not me I'm played
One shut eye, open lips, twisted tongue
Was last hug the kiss of death
You were all I got, got nothing left to give
The touch of your hands
The curve of your lips
Your soft spoken words
Have come to this
The tense grip of how you hold me near
Is the grip of hate when I pulled the trigger
My last moan, my last sigh, my last groan
The kiss of death, we see eye to eye
No love don't love nobody no more

Angela Khristin Brown

What's Going Down

lonely hearts don't die

they live to sing a song
when they open up
it is never over
'till the long days are gone
I am a factor of illusion
whose vision is an
inherent mark through time.
Quietly, I withhold
an emotion, an intrusion
who has
paced each step,
silently...
The voice within,
somberly calling,
negating
insecure thoughts
of denial.
An inclusion
from compromise,
negating motivation...
A state of mind.
Allusions I am
the mirror image of you
You are of me
it in my voice
You see my actions
of who we have become,
My voice carries on,
When you love someone
Who does not love you back
It hurts, the beast in the lyrics
The buckle in the heart
Morning the love I lost,
I am the mirror image
When love hurts
I become an
invisible enemy of hope,
trust cannot hold loose sand.
I am the image of love
Love don't regret
I hold emotions,
I withhold the pain
of being denied, love
what once was mine
Within the image of pain
became loss and hurt
My tears lie
of broken promises, of
Circumstance,
Feelings come and go
images to let go
When you took away
the blame, the guilt,
When you took away
the love, the joy, I admit
You took away my heart.
How many times
must I walk out
before you
call my name?
Promise me
to keep in touch.

Angela Khristin Brown

Words In The Wind

La, di, da, di, da, da, la, di, da, di, da, da

Words dancing ac-

Cross the page
Care-full-lee create-
Ingo dialog, phasing
Words; in-and-out,
Black out. The wisdom
Formulates a melody,
Buzzing noise,
Repeating sounds,
Rhythm and rhymes,
Thumping notes
Laud daddy we like to parody
Added character
To space and time -
La-di-da-di-da,
Chasing ideas
That rejoicing hymns of joy
Of delightful phrases
Within a single line
Hay, ho, hay you
Free-doom rings within
Freeeeeeeeeely we go,
Every stanza; crazily
Mocking words
Imitating elements
Pondering emotions that clings
Within searching,
Ideas, ideas that radiate
What up? Words.

La, di, da, di, di, di, da, da, la, di, da, di, di, da, di, da, di, da, di, da, la, di, da, di, di,
da

Angela Khristin Brown

Story of a Ghetto Queen, By Poet Activist Angela Brown

His-story
His-story
I 'm form the ghetto
I grew up in
the heart of the ghetto
on the west side of
north Vegas
the streets were fierce
the poverty, the street gangs
living on disability
in paint chipped housing
lawns unwept
the needy were greedy
streets were filthy rich
high on drugs,
sex addicts addiction
drive byes affliction
to meth, but a dream
from the ghetto
living life isnt what it seems
high off the American dream
the promise that one day
I'll achieve at being a mother
the threat of living off welfare
a dead beat father
who cant pay the rent
the upkeep of raising a family
a single mom alone in the world
having to raise five children
in a single house hold
living check to check
cannot pay the rent
selling everything she got
to make ends meet
children are starve
its never enough
living in poverty
aunt no joke
aunt got no education
one job is not enough
to provide an education
so her child can grow up
to pursue a better life
to be happy
from the ghetto
the heart of the ghetto
hard times are bad in the ghetto
hear gun fire every night
they kick in my door
through rocks and eggs at my house
I pray to God asking what its about
the roaches and rats are infested inside
but I will not come out to sell my body at night
their voice threaten me, the ghetto queen
trying hard in school made to look like a fool
people telling me Im too poor
to make good grades when scores should be low
Making a dollar out of fifteen cents
Isnt enough to pay the rent
with the life Im in transition
being better than what I am
proud to live in the skin Im in
I pray tis be different
no not like this
I want to give in to sin
I want to quit
I fear Im living a dream
Time is not wat it seems
The ghetto is not for me
It is not what it seems to be
The ghetto is not what is meant to be
When I am scared to leave the house
Vegas threats are way too loud
People are fed up with discrimination
Racy thought racist ideas gone to waste
No one wants to fail in life
Back stabbers try to get ahead
At all risk another ones dead
Corruption desperate thieves
Try to take over at all means
People hide behind their lies
The reality of being black in the hood
Life is a statistic another one bites the dust
in the ghetto
She had her child taken away
With a rain check that said
Your child does not deserve to be black
Denied that your color is not good enough
You have no husband
With no way to raise a child
Alone, without a man
And because you chose to fuck yourself
Youre a homeless slut who is not good enough
All your life you wanted more
To be successful and to score
When they took my child
They took all reason to live
Im not good enough
To be a mom
I fear I cannot go on
Live on live life
For Ive been judged
There God and my God
Dont see eye to eye
I am a child of God
Who has purpose
In the ghetto
That is where Im from
And I will be damn
Before the fat lady sings
The last note is played
And I give up on my dreams
My story, must play on
My story , must play on
history must play on
This is my story, of a ghetto queen
Quitting is not an option

Suffrage, by Poet Activist Angela Brown

I do not want to be remembered

Sad and blue
With my head bow down
Living life in gloom.
I want to be remembered
Fighting for just cause
And not forgotten
For all that was lost.
I want to be remembered
Standing against all odds
With head held high
Fighting for justice.
I want to be remembered
The good deed is done
Against the odds
For what was at risk is gone.
Remember me for the pain
And the anger in my heart
Of what I overcome
And the reasons I fought.
Remember me for who I am
For what I've become
And for what we've overcome.
Remember the fight
For what I stood
And the lessons taught
Unsung words understood.
Promise me, you wont give up the fight
And that you will always remain focus
Keeping God in your sight.

Empty Love

What do you do with an empty heart?

Would you die at this moment?
Would you break down and cry out, for the one you love?
Would you change your ways, to make him happy?
Would you drop everything, to be with the man you love?
Ideas, dreams, fantasies
Drifting within space
Silenced, I
Longing to be held
Longing to be touched
Longing to be admired

What would you do with an empty heart?

To what extent would you go, to have him back in your life?
Would you jump out a plane?
Would you bend over backwards to win his love?
Would you give him all your worldly possessions, to be with your only true love?

Hands, skin, lips, tongue

Silenced, I am
Wanting, needing, desiring
To be told I am loved
To be cared for
That he respects my needs
That he encourages my dreams

Love hurts in many places

in darkness and light,
it has many phases.
We break up to make up
We take chances
Words go spinning inside
Of an empty heart and
Closed a mind

An empty heart

Caressing voices cry inside my head

I fear the pain of losing
I regret the pain
I pray for forgiveness
Words spinning inside
an empty heart and mind

What would you do with an empty heart?

Is love worth fighting for?
Is love worth dying for?

What do you do with an empty heart?

All love burns inside

Broken of
Ideas
Fantasies
Dreams

Love burns

Black Lives Matter

I am a factor of illusion
whose vision is an inherent mark through time.

Quietly, I withhold an emotion of intrusion

whom has paced each step, silently...

The voice within, somberly calling,

negating insecure thoughts of self-hate and denial.

An inclusion from compromise,

negating motivation...

A state of mind.

I am the mirror image of discrimination.

When opportunity opens,

I become an invisible element of hope,
whose figures cannot hold loose sand.

I am the image of discrimination.

I cannot contain my emotions,

I withhold the pain of being denied,
and I secure the label of reservation.

Within the image of discrimination,

is a menagerie of discontent.

My fears lie desolate of broken promises,

being accepted is always denied.

You curse me with your unkind words,

you cut me with your vulgar lies.
You deny me from achieving my goals,
with reasons for negating alibies.

You take me down with your bitter ways,

you punish me with unjust laws.
You thwart hatred with your false accusations,
you belittle me by misnaming government flaws.

When you took away my right to vote,

you did so with unjust cause.
When you took away my right to petition,
you took away just cause.

Black lives matter

Angela Khristin Brown

Black Mamma-Faces

She lies, brown skin down in the moist dirt,

the canebrake rustling with whispers of leaves,
the loud longing of hounds and the ransack
of hunters crackling the near branches.
She mutters, lifting her head,
I shall not be moved.
She gathers her babies, their tears slick as oil
on black faces, their young eyes canvassing
the mornings of madness. Their lives will soon
be upon the killing floor unless they match
their mother's heart and words.
I shall not be moved.
Not in Virginia tobacco fields, along the roads
in Arkansas or upon the reddened hills of Georgia.
Into the palms of her chained hands, she cries
against calamity, her universe collapsing
by one black body falling from the tree
to her feet. She hears the names swirling
as ribbons in the wind of history: nigger, bitch,
baboon, whore but those descriptions do not
fit their tongues. She has a way of being:
I shall not be moved.
No angel stretches wings above her children,
none to protect, none flutter and urge the winds
of reason. Nor can her. They sprout like young
weeds, vulnerable to uncaring cutting blades
of ignorance. She pulls them out
and sends them awayshoelessunderground.
When you learn, teach. When you get, give.
She stands mid ocean, seeking dry land.
She's clothed in the finery of faith. Searches
for God's face. On the altar, places her fire
of service. When she appears at the temple door,
there's no sign to welcome her. She only hears
the thrashing sound of wickedness, she cries,
and No one dare deny my God!
But then she sees upon her right, The Divine,
who impels her to pull forever at the latch
on freedom's gate. His Holy Spirit on her left
leads her into the camp of the righteous,
into the tents of the free. She sees
the momma-faceslemon-yellow, plum-purple,
honey-browngrimaced and twisted down.
Their names are Sheba the Sojourner, Harriet
and Zora, Mary Bethune and Angela, and all
the Annies to Zenobias.
They stand:
In front of abortion clinics, confounded.
In Welfare lines for the pity of handouts.
In pulpits, yet shielded by mysteries.
In the operating rooms, husbanding life.
In the choir lofts, holding God in their throats.
On street corners, hawking worn-out bodies.
In classrooms, loving children, hating ignorance.
Centered on world's stage, they each sing
to their loves and beloveds, and to their foes,
these words: "However I'm perceived,
however great my deficiency or conceit,
lay aside your fears that I may become undone,
I shall not be moved."

Angela Khristin Brown

Its Over

Baby, what's up with us

Things used to be diferent
Youd hold me in your arms
And tell me sweet nothings
Baby, what's up with this
I kept my body tight
You would hug my hips
And rock me all night
Baby, tell me what's wrong
You used to mac me down
And tell me Im fine
That you could not live without me
You were the king of the castle
And I was your queen
Whose boots are you knocked now
Your future sister?
What is it now, you played me
Im not good enough
You can't rise above your ghetto queen
By being the man of my dreams
But I always thought we were better than that
This is a bridge, I dare not cross
Don't leave me hanging in the streets
Broken bottles, skeletons, reapers in the night
Im afraid of what is underneath this bridge
We used to be real tight
Open the window and let the light shine through
I see you got that eye twinkle you had once
The same look when we made love
The dark heat caressing strokes
Our bodies compressed as one
I afraid of losing you
My only one true love
Ive come to know
Does not choose to luv me no more
Im not for you
But what do you mean?
I cried many nights things were diferent
But it is what it seems
It is as it seems
You told me to walk
I left
It's over now
And Im not over you

Angela Khristin Brown

Lemonade 2
why does it have to be this way?
Why do we choose to live this way?
Why is life as it is?
Why can't things change?
Why do we doubt life?
Why do we fight the way we do?
Why can't we be happy?
Why do we argue?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Is it because,
few words stumble
and has lost its meaning?
I am the addict
desiring with needs
burning with the desire
to held and loved.
Words control the lust
I feel I am the voice that thirst
I am the darker sister
Whose words are
As sensitive as her skin
I am the voice within Flowing
Through loose fingers
My words reveal no lies
But tell the meaning of
Desire
Words of innocence
I am the voice behind these words
I contain silence
Silence is being alone
In the dark and cannot see.
Alone, I am afraid
silently I listen
The sound of a pen
dropping
dropping
dropping
Because I dared
to be diferent
I am connected
to intolerance
my thoughts are words
accept things
into another
state of being
I know no thirst,
behind this peace of mind
No familiar faces,
behind this peace of mind
Abandoned trust,
behind this peace of mind Broken,
death will come someday
Ill-exposed by all the lies told
Words of informality
ill-imagined delusions
There must be a better place in this world
To heal the pain
I now feel inside
A place where solitude solicits my tears
Solicits my fears of being touched
Not by thoughts,
I felt I loved once inside
Deeply hidden rage
holds a place dear to my heart
I've been raped
Alone in the night
My innocence exercises,
The pain, the fears, the tears I share
Holds a dangerous place inside
Ready to explode...
I am tired of wanting
As much to be desired
There is no more
nothing but wants and needs
I am tired of wanting
As much to be desired
There is no more
nothing but wants and needs
afraid of my own shadow
Hidden behind masks
That mark the streets
Blind the alleys
With broken speech
No one understands
Every day is a new round
Every second is on the clock
But our outcome
Is a choice
We live together
We die together
The spirit must live
We wear the masks
Walking stones into ashes
Scattered dust in the wind
Skeleton bones led to carry on
Vulnerable and weak masks
Die
Without reason
Every day is a new round
Every second is on the clock
But our outcome
Is a choice
Die
Without reason
Every day is a new round
Every second is on the clock
But our outcome
Is a choice
Die
Without reason
Every day is a new round
Every second is on the clock
But our outcome
Is a choice
I fell down
But I could not
shut out what corners of my eyes
light blocked from seeing
a wooden beam
I have learned to shut out
the world the way
men shut out me
I fall from circumstance
I get close to reality
My feelings are not real
accept what I am
caught up with expectations
for what needs
stars don't adjust in the light
I am blinded by darkness
in a deep dark
hole that I am holding on
Alone my heart weeps
I exist
I learn
from their struggle
I struggle in diferent ways
strong to survive love,
loss and pain
I could be the same
I must walk of death
and live my life for the
love of who I am.
I cannot reject loss
there is no turning back.
Don't be

Angela Khristin Brown

Love

Let me go peacefully
In the brisk of silence
Let my heart rest
On a whole note
Let me go peacefully

No more fighting
No more name calling
No more hating
Wishful thinking
Me and you
To be loved by you
Boy meets girl
And falls in love
Lost for words
Deep in thought
Out of time
I'm in to you
Needing you to need me
I you we is but a dream
To hold you
To love you
In a gentle way
To be there for me
Until our dying days
To know you care for me
When I'm low
Love heals the pain
I fear the fear
To die alone

Let me go peacefully
In the brisk of silence
Let my heart rest
On a whole note
Let me go peacefully

My last wish to you, to God, to us

If I must die
Let's rest peacefully
With my voice
My last note
to carry on

Cause you all I got

With we, are not alone

Angela Khristin Brown

Stop The Violence

Take this kiss tomorrow

And hold it close to heart
Never let disparity die
Broken dreams sorrow

Stop the Violence

Stop the violence
Stop the Violence

Peace
peace
peace

Hold fast to promises

That cannot keep
For a birds clipped wings
Cannot fly
If I chose this road not taken
Let my dream be within a dream
To not be forgotten

peace in the streets

peace in the streets
peace in the streets

In 2016 let us heal

We live in a country
Streets divided by color
Sections divided in tension
Amongst the weak and the tired...
Holding on, letting go of family.
They are we who pray
We celibate within the walls that break us
People are dying in our streets
When one dies it becomes every ones concern
Not just one or two or a few.
The building blocks behind closed prison cells
we are trapped into to thinking trust
amongst neighbors, family, friends
And the walking dead souls calls to freedom.
The cisterns that play
Need to be nurtured...
Stop the crying -
Stop the dying -
Stop the lying -
Nails, splinters, broken glass
Change must come today...
The guns of war has chained its course
'NO More'
For its purpose must be resolved.
We must learn to practice what we are told
we must fight the violence with peace.

Teach tolerance in our schools

Teach tolerance in the streets
Teach tolerance in the church
Teach tolerance to our nation

Stop the violence

Stop the violence
Stop the violence
peace on the streets

Delusion Voices:
lonely hearts don't die
they live to sing a song
when they open up
it is never over
'till the long days are gone
I am a factor of illusion
whose vision is an
inherent mark through time.
Quietly, I withhold
an emotion, an intrusion
who has
paced each step,
silently...
The voice within,
somberly calling,
negating
insecure thoughts
of denial.
An inclusion
from compromise,
negating motivation...
A state of mind.
Allusions I am
the mirror image of you
You are of me
it in my voice
You see my actions
of who we have become,
My voice carries on,
When you love someone
Who does not love you back
It hurts, the beast in the lyrics
The buckle in the heart
Morning the love I lost,
I am the mirror image
When love hurts
I become an
invisible enemy of hope,
trust cannot hold loose sand.
I am the image of love
Love don't regret
I hold emotions,
I withhold the pain
of being denied, love
what once was mine
Within the image of pain
became loss and hurt
My tears lie
of broken promises, of
Circumstance,
Feelings come and go
images to let go
When you took away
the blame, the guilt,
When you took away
the love, the joy, I admit
You took away my heart.
How many times
must I walk out
before you
call my name?
Promise me
to keep in touch.

Story of a Ghetto Queen, By Poet Activist Angela Brown

His-story
His-story
I 'm form the ghetto
I grew up in
the heart of the ghetto
on the west side of
north Vegas
the streets were fierce
the poverty, the street gangs
living on disability
in paint chipped housing
lawns unwept
the needy were greedy
streets were filthy rich
high on drugs,
sex addicts addiction
drive byes affliction
to meth, but a dream
from the ghetto
living life isnt what it seems
high off the American dream
the promise that one day
I'll achieve at being a mother
the threat of living off welfare
a dead beat father
who cant pay the rent
the upkeep of raising a family
a single mom alone in the world
having to raise five children
in a single house hold
living check to check
cannot pay the rent
selling everything she got
to make ends meet
children are starve
its never enough
living in poverty
aunt no joke
aunt got no education
one job is not enough
to provide an education
so her child can grow up
to pursue a better life
to be happy
from the ghetto
the heart of the ghetto
hard times are bad in the ghetto
hear gun fire every night
they kick in my door
through rocks and eggs at my house
I pray to God asking what its about
the roaches and rats are infested inside
but I will not come out to sell my body at night
their voice threaten me, the ghetto queen
trying hard in school made to look like a fool
people telling me Im too poor
to make good grades when scores should be low
Making a dollar out of fifteen cents
Isnt enough to pay the rent
with the life Im in transition
being better than what I am
proud to live in the skin Im in
I pray tis be different
no not like this
I want to give in to sin
I want to quit
I fear Im living a dream
Time is not wat it seems
The ghetto is not for me
It is not what it seems to be
The ghetto is not what is meant to be
When I am scared to leave the house
Vegas threats are way too loud
People are fed up with discrimination
Racy thought racist ideas gone to waste
No one wants to fail in life
Back stabbers try to get ahead
At all risk another ones dead
Corruption desperate thieves
Try to take over at all means
People hide behind their lies
The reality of being black in the hood
Life is a statistic another one bites the dust
in the ghetto
She had her child taken away
With a rain check that said
Your child does not deserve to be black
Denied that your color is not good enough
You have no husband
With no way to raise a child
Alone, without a man
And because you chose to fuck yourself
Youre a homeless slut who is not good enough
All your life you wanted more
To be successful and to score
When they took my child
They took all reason to live
Im not good enough
To be a mom
I fear I cannot go on
Live on live life
For Ive been judged
There God and my God
Dont see eye to eye
I am a child of God
Who has purpose
In the ghetto
That is where Im from
And I will be damn
Before the fat lady sings
The last note is played
And I give up on my dreams
My story, must play on
My story , must play on
history must play on
This is my story, of a ghetto queen
Quitting is not an option