The Lady

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Follow The Path

Photo By: Q.Whitening

Posted By: Q.Whitening

Silence Suicide

My soul escaped me

dripping, running and
oozing out of my collapsing veins
I did nothing
, but watched– in silence

Running wild
my persona
drifted into thin air
tied itself to a black hole
and never returned…

drifting
further away
into oblivion

my identity
with its bags near the door
never said goodbye
— I never muttered a word
just heard the door slam
and
the tires take off

leaving me in the smoke
with a wounded heart
inhaling dangerous ideas
hand me down
smoke
deadly

icy asphalt
was to blame for slippery morals
sliding further out of reach
seemingly impossible to catch
capturing them
an olympic competition
keeping them
noble prize worthy achievement

I’ve had more than once before
and they shall return to me again

Now, just a rough patch
dry spell
no intimacy
just impotence
incompetence

you absence
is potent
need a clearance
for grievance

practice patience
because i will seek vengeance
i expect penance

because they took everything
you said nothing
so as they raped our motherland
as they violated your mother
made our backs bleed

you bore the burden

505 years later
you are the burden

still dancing to the tune of gunfire
still violating your mother
now beating the concrete of the jungle

silently committing suicide.

You can also read more of my good friend’s work on her blog emmesbrainmatter.blogspot.com/.

Thanks Mary.

Written By: Mary Battle

Posted By: Q.Whitening

A Parallel State of Mind

Worlds on top of worlds.

Photos By: Q.Whitening

Posted By: Q.Whitening

Portrait Series: Pat The New Model

These photos, with the help of my roommate Patrick, helped develop my eye more. Pat was the first person I shot in a portrait type of style. Thanks Homes.

Photo By: Q.Whitening

Posted By: Q.Whitening

The Signal of A Trend

More everyday culture, imprints left for the world to see.

Photo By: Q.Whitening

Posted By: Q.Whitening

“Black” Man

Today he’s so melancholy; onlookers glance at a felon probably,

they label his camaraderie gangs, his pants don’t hang,

he doesn’t throw tantrums, he’s not a primate-he’s handsome,

but they say watch him-he steals, he’s not a thief and he too feels, he’s not looking for a record deal-he tries, he applies while he’s forced two be categorized by filling out a section he despised, simultaneously his friends die, he buys nice things, he never yells-he’s intuitive and writes things, no one can encompass what his plight brings,

nights bring thugs that are hungry, and NO that’s not drug money, your funny,

no walking thru his neighborhood, those same neighbors say he’s too good,

cause he won’t really associate, his lifetime goal isn’t to procreate and he scoffs at orange ball, more like Warhol, all I’m saying is when you see a

“BLACK” man, it’s your call.

Written By: Jammie Thompson

Posted By: Q.Whitening