RENEE DRUMMOND-BROWN - POEMS

​Renee Drummond-Brown is an accomplished poetess with experience in creative writing. She is a (Summa Cum Laude) graduate of Geneva College of Western Pennsylvania and The Center for Urban Biblical Ministry (CUBM). Renee’ is still in pursuit of excellence towards her mark for higher education. She is working on her fourth book and has numerous works published globally which can be seen in cubm.org/news, KWEE Magazine (Liberian L. Review), Leaves of Ink Magazine, New Pittsburgh Courier, Raven Cage Poetry and Prose Ezine Magazine, Realistic Poetry International, Scarlet Leaf Publishing House, SickLit Magazine, The Metro Gazette Publishing Company, Inc., Tuck, and Whispers Magazine just to name a few. Civil Rights Activist, Ms. Rutha Mae Harris, Original Freedom Singer of the Civil Rights Movement, was responsible for having Drummond-Brown’s very first poem published in the Metro Gazette Publishing Company, Inc., in Albany, GA. Renee’ also has poetry published in several anthologies and honorable mentions to her credit in various writing outlets. The Multicultural Student Services Office of Geneva College presented her with 2nd prize in the Undergraduate Essay Contest. Renee’ also won and/or placed in several poetry contests globally. She was Poet of the Month Winner in the prestigious Potpourri Poets/Artists Writing Community and in the running for Poet of the Year. She has even graced the cover of KWEE Magazine in the month of May, 2016. Her love for creative writing is undoubtedly displayed through her very unique style and her work solidifies her as a force to be reckoned with in the literary world of poetry. Renee’ is inspired by non-other than Dr. Maya Angelou, because of her, Renee’ posits “Still I write, I write, and I’ll write!”

---

Crayola
 
 
His wife’s
BLACK
as ‘tonight’.
He’s
WHITER
than snow.
They’re
HATED
out!
This ‘fo’ ‘sho’;
we do know.
No doubt!!!
 
Society
don’t like this game
but
two can play it
ANYWAY
just the same.
Your move~~~
 
Do not pass go,
do not collect $200.
This again;
we do know.
For this crime,
off to jail
‘ONE’
use to go?
Wonder who??
This;
we do know???
 
But when
he loves
‘Tonight’
from the top
of her head
to the souls
O’
her feet~~~
The colour
they worry ‘bout’
is none other
than
THAT
mean green.
NOT
black or white!
 
Her family hates
the Caucasian in him;
his family hates
her blackness within
but
interracial
relationships
exemplifies
the freedom
to love
whomever
 one
desires~~~
So
don’t get boxed in
 
Open
your mind,
Crayola’s come
in all sorts
of different kinds.
Whether your black
as tonight
or
white
as snow~~~
This
for certain;
we do know.
 
 
Dedicated to: A Black tie ‘AFFAIR’.
A B.A.D. poem

​I Love Lucy
 
 
 
Brown dreams
lost
‘inna’
black sea.
Slaves
riding them waves,
passing by
this
so, called,
American dream.
 
 
Identity cries,
theft lies
beneath
the oldest bones
found.
 
 
Who are they?
Archaeologist 
want to know?
Her.
But; do they though?
Really?
 
 
Scripture foretold,
tale; tale signs
of her
long, long ago;
since
the beginning,
O’
time.
 
 
November 24,
1974,
Lucy,
was re-born
again
an’
again
an’
again.
 
 
3.2 million years,
of
innocent blood
sweat,
‘an’
enslaved
tears.
Tarry til’
I come;
He said.
 
 
But how?
‘Sum’ 400 years later,
the oldest fossil’s
children’s
children,
are still
‘beggin’ bread!
Tarry til’
I come;
He said.
 
 
Lucy your
lineage
camouflage
artifacts.
O’
‘dem’
hidden treasures
of Ethiopia’s
pleasure
beyond
her majesty’s
mystery,
of man
daring to dream
Lucy’s
vivid dreams,
beyond her measure.
No scheme;
THIS IS NO SCHEME ATTACHED!
 
 
FREEDOM
She ‘sangs’!
O’
FREEDOM!
LET IT RING!
LET IT ‘RANG’
I love Lucy.
Lucy I’m home.
Although,
freedom for ‘our’ children
has come
an’
be gone.
 
Lucy’s in Africa
with diamonds an’ pearls
oh’ my!
Dinknesh;
she’s amazing,
she’s marvelous
she’s free.
Everyone’s roots
date back
to ‘ONLY HER’
genealogy;
from sea
to
shining seas!
I love Lucy’s legacy.
Mother we’re home.
But
simply not free.
 
 
 
A B.A.D. poem
 
 
Dedicated to: Arrest #AL 288-1 (Lucy I’m home).

Hard Knocks!
 
He beat me
‘cause’
he loves’ me;
he say’s
“you’re my only one”
therefore,
it’s my fault
he hits me
‘fore’
the setting
of
every sun.
 
As sure as
I’m in heaven;
Father,
Can You try to understand;
his last hit
took my breath
away
an’
I’m ‘beggin’ forgiveness
‘cause’
I loves’ this man.
 
My child,
BEFORE
they laid you
to rest,
adding
insult to injury
at its best;
HE
ALREADY HAD
A
BRAND
NEW
PUNCHING
BAG,
an’
she’s
a real diehard,
soon to meet
the
VERY
same
fate
that you had.
 
Dedicated to: Domestic Violence Awareness!
A B.A.D. poem

​White Girl
 
White girl,
white girl,
what do you see,
what do you see;
when ‘lookin’ at me?
I see favor,
I see grace,
I see humility
I see ‘BLACKNESS’
an’ dignity
wanting
her children free.
 
Black girl,
black girl,
what do you see,
what do you see;
when ‘lookin’ at me?
I ‘saw’ a white girl
who stepped up
during
The Civil Rights Movement
‘PLEA’,
‘TOOK A BULLET’
an’
made the ‘WHOLE’ world
take notice of my children
and me.
Thank you
VIOLA GREGG LIUZZO
for allowing me
to pen y’OUR’ history.
 
Although,
my slain sister,
we’re still far
from being free!
 
Dedicated to: The family of Viola Gregg Liuzzo.
This martyrs ‘GONE’ but ‘NEVER’ is our ‘SHERO’ forgotten!
A B.A.D. poem

‘Rizen’ an’ ‘Fallin’
 
 
Alicia Keys
nobodies ‘fallin’ like me!
 
Been
‘fallin’ an’ ‘rizen’
All ‘deeze’ years;
don’t know night from day
been ‘cryin’
from
‘dem’ ‘dawgz’~~~
‘sum’ real tears
‘Youz’ ‘knows’
‘who’s’ ‘youz’ are???
Trouble in my way
‘gotta’ ‘SWANG’ sometimes!!!
 
‘Nevatheless’
‘Iz’ wear
Poet Dunbar’s mask
‘dat’
grins an’ lies
‘wit’
UV ultra-protection
‘dat’ disguise
My WISE eyes
 
Who’d she coo?
Not you!
‘Twaz’ me
‘fallin’
an’
‘rizen’.
So
let
me
be.
 
Dedicated to: I keep on ‘fallin’ and can’t get up!
A B.A.D. Poem

​America!
 
America;
America,
God shed His plagues
on thee,
and
crowned thy hood
with WOES
as He should,
for disobeying
His commands
from sea
to shining seas.
 
His commands
are 
misunderstood.
Therefore,
as
Scripture vents~~~
reprimands
are
visibly
cognizant
 
Prayer removed
from schools~~~
THANKS TO YOU
now
our children
are
sophisticated iPhone
fools!
‘Walkin’ ‘round’
‘bustin’ a sag,
while mommy’s half dressed,
daddy lags
last;
bringing up the rear
without child support
in sight
and ‘nada’ a care
or
offering reasons why???
 
America;
America,
God shed His plagues
on thee,
and
crowned thy hood
with WOES
as He should,
for disobeying
His commands
from sea
to shining seas.
 
Dedicated to: What happen to the beautiful spacious skies for amber waves of grain?

​The NO Sense
 
 
I see
dumb people
and
they don’t know
they’re dumb.
Pants
‘sagin’ down;
‘slangin’
‘dat’
dope,
‘takin’
their own
 communities
for
broke!
 

 
I see
dumb people
and
they don’t know
they’re dumb.
‘Walkin’
round
like
‘ev’ry’body else
‘CEPT’
jobless
‘havin’
big fun.
Stupid ‘iz’ ‘az’ stupid ‘doez’
too dumb
to learn
how to spell;
let alone,
want
a job;
on their way
straight to hell.
 
 
  
 
I see
dumb people
and
they don’t know
they’re dumb.
‘Makin’
‘kidz’
‘wit’
‘ev’ry’
Tom, Dick,
and
Harry’s son,
sayin
“I do”
an’
he’s already married too;
let me guess?
Hmm
NOT TO YOU.
 
 

I see
dumb people
and
they don’t know
they’re dumb.
60 years
old
still
‘livin’
at home
with mom,
no job
no future
an’
no plans
to EVER go.
 I see
dumb people,
too stupid
to want
to grow.
 
 
 
I see
dumb people
and
they don’t know
they’re dumb.
They walk amongst
us
everyday
Is it you?
Hmm;
just sayin,
just sayin.
NEWS FLASH!!!
The only dumb question
‘IZ’
THE ONE THAT THEY ASK!!!
 
 
 
Dedicated to: How often do you SEE them? ALL THE TIME.

​Boy.
 
Oxygen
cut off
as he ‘swangs’
10 yrs. ol’
but
considered
a man.
Eyes bulging
from his head
sweat pouring
from his glands.
Breath slipping fast.
Numbness
in both hands;
Mob ‘yellin’
“Swing low
sweet chariot
no-ones
‘fennin’
to carry you home”.
 
 
 
Boy’s
minds’
the last to leave
as he
FORCED
to
swing
and become
a man
from
a
 poplar tree.
 
 
 
IN LIGHT OF BLACK HISTORY MONTH 2017; LEST WE FORGET.
Dedicated to: Mr.

​Go To Hell!
 
 
Restore
that blind mans’
sight.
Give
that murderer
a second chance
at life.
 
 
 
Take away
those drugs.
Mature
that hooligan thug.
Feed
that crack baby.
Addiction
to bondage
minus
the subjugation
of slavery.
 
 
 
 
Black lives matter?
Yeah right!
If not here;
then where?
Definitely,
 in the
hereafter.
 
 
 
Bang; bang
shoot ‘em’ dead
an’ let
that piece of steel
be still;
and/or
“Go to Hell”
die ‘tryin’
if
you will.
 
 
Dedicated to: Dead is as dead does (‘piece’ be ‘steel’).
 

​Kim
 
I saw this photo of you
today
and flashed back
some 30 years,
with a heavy heart
I asked the Father,
Where do I start?
What shall I do?
He replied
Go to Habakkuk 2 verse 2,
write your visions of her
make it plain
others will read it
and
just like Kim,
just maybe
they’ll too come to know Him
by name
 
 
 
Only then
this vision came clear
write a poetic account
that mounts
of her quiet nature,
beautiful smile
O’ to have
that awesome giggle
return to us
if only
for a lil’ while.
 
 
But somehow,
I know Kim’s alright
‘RESTING’
In His bosom you see,
with her big wide smile
lighting that path
for us…
in those pearly skies
to be received 
one by one
when our mission test
here are done.
 
 
 
I even thought of her beautiful child,
‘an’ grandson,
named like her,
which would make her so very proud
And I know,
 that I know,
that I know,
because of her genes
they too
are ‘gonna’ be alright
 
 
 
Because of Kim
and how she lived
I no longer question Him.
I know to cry at births
rejoice
at our loved ones’ goings
which gives us hope…
In the
Father
His
Son
and
Holy Spirit.
 

​Two Special Grand-kids
 
 
Kia,
I still remember
the day
you named her
“Barb Dawg”
for none other
than
‘barkin’ out
‘dem’ orders
to ‘ev’rybody’,
anybody,
‘an’
equal opportunists;
all for one
and
one for all.
No-one gets exempt
from grans’
SHOUTING
CALLS
Woof, woof
woof~~~
 
Yeah
especially,
to
‘dem’ grans
merely
fusing
for a just ‘cause’.
‘Cause’ she taught
Kia
and
‘HER’
Lil’ Wayne
Love,
R.E.S.P.E.C.T
but
most importantly
humility,
courage
honor
and justice
for all.
That is fact;
hmm
‘sustah’
Aretha Franklin
ain’t even
got ‘nothin’
 on this
nor that!
 
 
She taught you both
how to
stand
stay
believe in self,
try very hard,
and
to the God of
Abraham,
Isaac and Jacob
PRAY!!!
 
On bended knees
she taught you
‘wit’
an iron fist,
so the world
couldn’t get
hold
of your innocent
heart felt bliss;
thus
knocking you out
1st round
hit or miss.
 
No,
She taught you both
how to PRAY up,
look to the hills
ONLY
from which
‘HIS’
HELP COMES!!!
RUN
FROM TROUBLE
for-ever
and a day.
For gran,
‘THAT’
was the only way.
And ‘THAT’
he said; she said
was simply
NOT
ACCEPTED~~~
NOR
A OK!!!
 
 
She absolutely loved
‘Her’
Lil’ Wayne
‘ev’r’ so,
Lawd, Lawd, Lawd knows.
Yeah
Lil’ Wayne knew too;
through those history walks
an ‘dem’
late, late night
confession talks.
 
Kia and ‘HER’ Lil’ Wayne,
just to put it mild,
“BARB DAWG”
 loved you
like
NO OTHER
GRANDCHILD.
IF
you don’t know
‘HER’
by now;
I’m penning you her thoughts~~~
“Barb Dawg” 
carried you
to her grave
and
returned you both  
back
to God.
 
Dedicated to: Kia and Dwayne Drummond

Barbie
 
 
The original Barbie
came to life
March 9th
-1959.
Or so were told.
She arrived
on the scene
blonde,
brunette,
and bold
as can be.
Not
the likes
of my kind.
Cause none
was made
to look
‘JUST’
like me.
But
I loved, loved, loved
her world
anyhow;
them paper dolls too
‘playin’ alone
was so much fun
when there was ‘nothin’
else
left to do!
 
 
She was cheap
as can be.
Her commercial raved
‘ONLY’
$3.00
for a vintage
Barbie
YOU SEE.
 
 
 
1961
‘MEANT THE WORLD TO ME’.
Ken,
AKA
 Sean Carson, that is;
makes his grand
debut
as none other
than
 Barbie’s
main squeeze
an’
blue eyed
beau.
Mod also
comes along,
‘wit’
Malibu Barbie
‘sangin’
a new tune
to a different
type
of Barbie song.
 
 
 
Finally,
JUST FOR ME,
The VERY first
African American
 Barbie;
came into being.
The year
1968,
and boy
was she ever
so VERY late!!!
She launched
in the 80’s,
nevertheless,
none
really knows her
by name.
Her history,
timeline,
an’ use
of fame
remains a mystery
in
“Christie’s”
guessing game(s).
 
 
 
In 2009,
Farrah Fawcett
an’
Toy Story
attached their names
to Barbs’ brand;
adding ‘bendable’s’
minus
the ‘twistable’
arms, legs
and yes
rubber face and hands!!!
 

 
 
2017,
hard to believe,
but
Barbie’s in her
late 50’s!!!
We drove her car
to the mall,
played in her
carousel kitchen,
lived in her dreamhouse;
yep!
Camper
right outside!!!
O’
sheer bliss.
Sewed her
some clothes,
told her secrets,
that only
she knows.
Barbie knows us well;
as does
Mattel
but she’ll never tell;
a single soul.
Nope
she won’t~~~
even tell
her lil’ sis Skip.
Skipper that is.
Nope
she don’t
even know
who cut her hair
Shhh~~~
But one thing
for sure;
to every lil’
boy and girl
Barbie and Ken’s
memories
of love
are
genuinely
pure.
 
 
Dedicated to: “Who wants to play Barbie?”
 

​Dig Deep
 
Now,
I lay me down
to rest,
on
Merriam-Webster’s,
Collegiate
Dictionary’s
enormous chest.
‘Wit’ ‘sum’
‘Psycho-babbling’,
structural jargon’s
an’
esoteric language
to create
this impression
of
digging deep
at my
utter-most
best.
 
 
 
What did I just say?
Don’t know.
‘Twaz’
just a test.
You failed
though.
 
 
 
For
where there are two
or
three words
gathered
in
research
an’
resource;
compare
an’
contrast
erupt
on one accord,
in-
harmoniousness
discord.
Just like poetic thoughts
lost
in THE “Red Sea”.
‘Sumthin’
floats my boat
within me!
Something ‘ain’t’ quite ‘write’
So, I ‘right’
Hmmm???
 
 
 
 
There are
no words
that
entirely
define
my poetry.
Peculiarity.
Hmm.
No,
that is not me.
 
 
 
My poetry
‘iz’ ‘az’
un-unique
as can be.
Harmless,
as Noah’s dove;
have you not heard?
Well
maybe peculiarity
does
define me.
‘Cause’
that Raven bird
sure does.
 
 
 
Yeah,
a black ‘byrd’ set free
‘wit’ absolutely
NO
return address
to return thee.
 
 
 
I get way too lost
an’
cogitate
poetically
CORRECT
thoughts.
All
in
all;
all is at lost,
when I write
as I
set sail
them pages
in braille.
My ears see
what others
dare dream
My eyes hear
What my mind can’t conceive
My poetry speaks
LOUD AND CLEAR
to those who believe
or perceive
whichever~~~
 
 
 
 
Did you not know?
My heart sets precedence
of a prestigious poetic lepers’
writing prose?
Who knew?
Webster knew,
that his poetry defined me.
Yeah,
I’m in it
way to deep.
 
Dedicated to: Mind games; don’t get ‘em’ twisted.

One on One
 
 
Just saw this photo
of Ty,
and
reminisced
in my head
‘ov’r’
the years;
O’
them gyms
we played in.
Schenley High;
Fall league,
comes to mind.
 
 
Basketball
in her head,
heart,
and
hands.
Two thumbs up!!
Awesome layups
free throws,
foul shots;
always on point
‘whomever’
she guarded.
‘Ev’n’ when
against
my very own daughters.
Yeah
her cousins;
now that’s what’s up!!!
 
 
I recollect
Ty holding
her coaches baby
on her lap,
if
given a break.
Then
guarding her opponents,
rotating back
‘ov’r’ to us
WITH A KISS
‘anna’
SMILE
saying
“I’ll be back at half time”
‘ev’n’ if
for
a lil’ while!
 
 
 
 
Well God kept
Ty’s score.
Now she’s
on
point,
dribbling
The Fathers’ ball
halfway down court,
guarding His gate;
never needing
time out,
nor
worrying
‘bout’
who
she has to fake
out.
 
 
Score is never kept,
cause
she’s on
that
winning team:
“The Heavenly Host”
with none other
than
her Father,
His Son,
and the
Holy Ghost
AKA
The Trinity.
What a dream
on Ty’s team!!!
 
 
Ty
I ‘seen’ you play today
“One on One”
if only
a “cherry pick” away.
 
 
 Dedicated to: LaShawn Lewis, in memory of her beloved daughter “Ty”
(HAPPY 27th BIRTHDAY TYLER “Ty”).