wonder

I wonder if he knows me. I mean I know he knows about me.I know he knows what I’m about. I know he listens when I speak. And when I don’t.But..I wonder if he knows what I don’t. I wonder if he hears what I won’t. I wonder if he sees when I cope silently and privately with the impossible.I wonder if he knows what he wants when he says he wants me.I wonder and then he smiles.And I think, he can’t know; how could he?If he knew, how could he smile so serenely? How could he touch so tenderly? How could he contain my carcass with such confidence?Then I wonder how much power he has. I’ve seen him move mountains. And I’ve witnessed him feed field-fulls of fraught nonbelievers his truth until they were no longer famished and frail. But...

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socu

written for the introduction to Yoash Victorious’s Season of the Come Up EP. the season of the come up is not just a record. it’s not just a movement.it’s a declaration made by the millions of minds that feel it’s their time.too many of us have been denied what is rightfully oursbecause we’re too blinded by dreams deferred and hopes devoured. not that we don’t have the strength within to win, but somewhere along the way we became cowards.but now, we’re sick and tired of keeping our power confined in our pain. it’s time to unchain the change ingrained in our veins and let it rain. quenching the thirst of the earth, birth worth, and make it plain.cus alterations can’t be made if our ways stay the same. and we can’t...

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Ill Lyterati Presents: Open Mic Night at Kilgore

Ill-Lyterati, a premier arts collective based in Atlanta, Ga, hosts a weekly Open Mic Night at Kilgore on Morehouse College's campus. From 8-11 every Thursday night, you can hear amazing art and sign-up to share your own- for free! Come check out the poetry, music, comedy sketches, freestyles and raps the AUC and greater Atlanta area have to provide. The first Open Mic Night will be Thursday, 1 September 2011. Be there! Read more about Ill Lyterati he...

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The Presage

The Presage (an Online Undergraduate Journal) is scheduled to debut on 1 September 2011. The Presage is a quarterly journal that is meant to provide future scholars and leaders with a platform to present their already blooming work. The journal will showcase the theories, analyses, critiques and ongoing research of undergraduates from all over the nation.  Issues will also feature "non-academic" areas of excellence such as poetry and media arts. Not specific to any one discipline, the entries in this journal are united by the skill, foresight and diligence of their authors. Stop by the website on 1 September to read the featured work of scholars from various institutions including Spelman College, Morehouse College, Emory University, Georgia State University and Claftin...

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Young Black Thinkers Society

The Young Black Thinkers Society (YBTS) is a registered student organization at Spelman College. Founded in Fall 2009, this AUC-wide club meets once a week to discuss pressing issues in often heated but ever enlightening discussion. Topics have ranged from the supposed decline in music over the years, to debate over whether ignorance is bliss. Once a month, the group discusses the central ideas of a Black thinker or theory. Other activities include (but are not limited to) movie viewings, debates (within the group and with other AUC registered student organizations) and meetings at the local café.  YBTS meets on the 4th floor of the Camille Cosby Academic Center on Spelman's campus on Tuesdays at 6 o'clock pm, starting on 6 September. Like YBTS on facebo...

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Education and the Group: The Case for Individuality

Education and the Group: The Case for Individuality is the title of Chaina's ongoing research project that doubles as her honors senior thesis and her 2-yr research project as a UNCF|Mellon fellow. The research is a three-fold project aimed at exposing the inconsistencies of the American public education system through philosophy, raw data, and personal testament (interviews) of students and educators alike. First, Chaina plans to use philosophy to prove the necessity of individualism, especially in comparison to over-dependency on group dynamics. Second, she will research the intricacies of the No Child Left Behind Act (NCLB) with the hopes of deciphering what role the Act plays, if any, in the ongoing disservice of the education system. And finally, Chaina will interview students...

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The Fair St. Mural

The Fair St. Mural is a project aimed at beautifying a neglected yet historical neighborhood right outside the AUC. The mural can be seen from the local elementary school art classroom, and showcases prolific historical leaders marching toward the school, led by 2 school children. This 5-month project is the brainchild of Shawn Deangelo, a childhood development major and Morehouse College senior with a heart for giving back to the community. Read more about the man behind the mural and his wonderful project here. And stop by anytime to check out the progress or offer a helping hand as the completion of the mural draws nearer. The mural site is located at 1021 Fair Street Southwe...

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The Frederick Douglass Tutorial Institute

Chaina is a proud member of the Frederick Douglass Tutorial Institute and has been since her freshman year in college. The Frederick Douglass Tutorial Institute (FDTI) is a tutoring program held in Brawley Hall on the Morehouse College campus. It was founded in 1970 by the late Morehouse graduate Carthur Drake. FDTI The Institute welcomes students from all over Atlanta, who come to be tutored by AUC college student volunteers. The students come from grades K-12 seeking aid in a variety of subjects, so there's room for any AUC student seeking a fulfilling opportunity to serve their community. FDTI does count toward community service...

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Shawn Deangelo

Shawn Deangelo Walton was born in Eastpoint and raised in Atlanta, Georgia. And ATL has been his home ever since. A real lover of his community, Shawn feels convicted to use his gifts and talents to aid his immediate neighborhood of the Ashview Heights/Fair Street community. Aside from his time spent volunteering in an art class at the local elementary school (M. Agnes Jones), Shawn has spent countless hours helping to bring a piece of original artwork to the neighborhood via a wall-sized mural that can be seen from the art class window.  The Fair St. Mural, a 5-month project, is showcased on a 15x40' wall aside the facing corner store's...

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Morgan Leanne House and Daryl Patrice

Morgan House and Daryl Patrice are like sisters joined at the artistic hip. Neither is a stranger to the art scene and both have had nearly identical artistic journeys while in the AUC. Painter by hobby Morgan is a theater technician at Spelman. She ran sound for the 2009 and 2010 productions of the Vagina Monologues. She also served as 2nd attendant to Miss Phi Mu Alpha for the 2010-2011 academic year. Likewise, Daryl will be continuing her run with the Spelman Drama Department, where she hopes to send her artistic chops to the stage. Daryl also served as the 2nd attendant to Miss Phi Mu Alpha herself during the 2009-2010 school...

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Whitney Skippings-Dupree

Whitney Skippings-Dupree is a senior International Studies and Philosophy double major at Spelman College (based in Atlanta, Georgia). Whitney has a long history of interest in international conflict resolution, and she plans to continue cultivating said passions as she ventures into the next leg of her professional career. Having spent a semester studying abroad in Uganda and Rwanda, her current independent research seeks to bridge her dual academic interests in its concern for peace philosophies.  As an extension of her academic aspirations, Whitney has been a crucial member of several academic extracurricular organizations and...

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new things a-brewin'

howdy folks! So, as my senior year approaches at the most rapid of paces, I am met with an unsettling yet exciting truth: my life is beginning. My real, independent, ADULT life. It's crazy, but I'm so excited. I think I'm more excited than nervous because of all the promise that is ahead. Wanted to share some of my upcoming projects and endeavors to outline what I think is a very good start to an awesome life. On the academic tip -I'm a SENIOR!! 'Nough said. -I am co-founder and acting overseer of the Young Black Thinker's Society in the AUC. -I am co-founder and co-editor-in-chief of The Presage (An Undergraduate Journal) which debuts 1 September 2011. -As graduate school desires become actualities, I'll be doing my most to go to Emory for graduate school. On the extra-curricular...

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Weep for Me

this poem was inspired by Sam Cooke's rendition of 'Willow Weep for Me'. Its secondary inspiration is Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree.There once was a man named Mr. RowWho grew up neglected, shy and alone.Who liked peanut butter sandwiches and found exploring to be joyous,And who’s very best friend was the wayward forest.Life wasn’t easy for Mr. RowWhom trouble seemed to follow everywhere he’d go.But he never was taught how to deal with his painSo when he felt his first sadness, he turned to the rain:”Rain cloud weep for me.Release your waters upon the trees.They’ll catch my sadnessIn the hollows of their leaves,Then send them awayTo get caught in the breeze.I’m not one to beg And I’m not one to plead.But I’m imprisoned by heartbreakAnd I need to be freed.”Now the forest...

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(untitled)

I used to be emotional. But I gave him all of mine. Now I'm just a-motional. Motionless. Unmoved. I used to find worth in being held by him, no matter who with. Now I'm just with held. I used to be a giver, blessing him with an abundance of my service. Now I'm just reserved. I used to be outspoken,overpowering naysaying voices to silence.Now I'm just silent. Having been tossed in the shed with all the tears I hid from him. Now I seek no longer. My reluctance confuses you. Now, boxed with labels of "fragile" and "do not open" and cornered by angles whose degrees are too acute to allow room for expansion anyway, you read my labels and write me off as unwanted merchandise- without knowing the delicacy of my contents. And your avoidance means I am quickly...

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sampled love.

a song about (lost) love. dedicated to (real) music. V1 You used to be my song. Now all I've got left is a capella memories. Where did we go wrong? The melody has gone and took with it my harmony. H And if it's over I'll be alright. Our love I will cover, repeat in my mind. Until I get the real thing back. V2 You were why I wrote. My meistro and my base (bass), conducting my heart to play. Then you changed the notes; now you're prone to violence (violins), fiddling heartstrings away. Free Verse I used to love you. Back when you were original and pure. Back when the best of you couldn't be recorded, adorned, packaged and stored. You know, back when you were sure. In those days I could dial you up to hear your voice. But then you changed your tune. Now I have to search archives...

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preview/snippit: the huntress

a couple days ago I began writing a piece that I then decided to expand into a longer allegory. the whole story, entitled "the huntress", is yet incomplete, but here is the initial segment that both informs the larger work and serves as an interesting tale on its own. it's actually my favorite part (so far). enjoy. the lion king (or these eyes) I packed my bags today. All I left him was a tear-stained pillow, soaked in the painful confusion released from the eyes whose glow once belonged to him. These eyes used to be my glory: a huntress's greatest weapon when hunting for the most prime and challenging game. When they caught his they trapped him like a netted lion tricked into bondage while searching for water in the south Saharan desert he calls home. Bright whites barely seen...

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me at the botanical gardens in atlan...

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What Should You Believe

I wrote this as a final writing assignment for my Philosophy of Religion course at Morehouse College. I'm currently editing it and my Theory of Truth for submission into The Presage (An Undergraduate Journal) this fall. Here's a taste of the final product. I believe that God exists. By that I mean I believe there is an ever-present power that far exceeds my own here on earth. I believe this power moves and informs my daily life without completely controlling that life. Something like Plato’s unmoved mover, I believe in an actuality that is the force behind all existence, but that this God-being has limited conscious contribution (whether intentionally or by nature) to our current world. This force is one with which I hope to be (re)connected upon my death from this world. This means...

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Letter to the Editors

To whom it may concern: Any nation that defaces great races and then erases articulation of racist victimization using propagation that makes hatred seem brave and reiterates this implementation in dozens of cases is a disgrace. And furthermore, when he who perpetuates such grave mistakes can not only escape but embrace his fate because the raping and disseminating of native states whose inhabitants are innately blank is a reason to celebrate I become irate. Can you relate? Seems like history has yet to lost its stake. What will it take to make our fated future of freedom happen now? Tell me how when paralyzing hypnotizing always wins. And multiplicitous categorizing using the same lens is defended by academics who spend their time writing their findings using the same pen. man. ship me...

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can't let you go, reprise.

So I wrote this poem over the summer. It's funny, cus I'm talking about how I can see the heartbreak up ahead with this cat and all. Fast forward 7 or 8 months and here I am, with this guy I wrote about wanting to not want. Goes perfectly with this ongoing conversation I've been having with myself and others for a while now. The question is: In relationships, how much is too much and when?  Consider a marriage: it's gonna take a lot (it should take a lot, I mean) before a marriage is dissolved. Consider a newly budding friendship: if someone who is basically a stranger to you does something significantly shady, that may be reason enough to take the hint and keep moving. But what about everything in between? Especially relationships that are fluid, and unbound by "titles". I mean,...

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'Tis better to have loved and lost...

then never to have loved at all.  I watched a movie once where one guy says this to another guy. And the second guy responds: try it. After having watched it (years ago) I thought about what both men had said and tried to decide which side sounds more true. Oh ok I remember, the movie was Men in Black, but that's irrelevant. Anyhoo, I was convinced that the age old proverb was true. It IS better to have loved and lost. But every rule has it's exception, and I've found the one to this particular presumed fact of life. I've been in love twice. The first one ended very badly. For both of us. I loved him but he was no good to or for me. And although it was I who saw the need to part ways, it still took me two years to fully, honestly get over him. But at no point in that journey did I...

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For Future Refernece

A TOUGH LOVE LETTER TO MYSELF Dear You,  Going through the motions will leave your emotion quotient totally broken Reckless devotion- the effect of listening to a heart that has misspoken. Someone said if you're not on the same page don't even leave the book open, Go on and close it. Advice token- go on and let it soak in. Love lost is a potent potion for initiatng the rage of beasts newly awoken. Creating trains of thought entertaining strange mechanisms of coping. Zen proverb quoting and eloping mentally by smoking dope and floating g-gent-ally. Jack and Coke to the throat til ya choke, thinking the sting will cover your crushed hopes and dreams. "Meant to be" now sounds something like a myth to me. Yet again Cupid lifts his arrow, shifts his gaze and misses me. The game's a maze...

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Boundless

The world is full of haters: facilitators of debates that have no stake in reality whose sole purpose in life is to initiate calamity (or so they think). Or so it seems cus every time they open their mouths vehemence seeps out and overclouds the mounds and mountain peaks from which true wisdom speaks in an attempt to repeat the history that brought us down. And somehow they've convinced thousands to believe these self-defeating untruths; they're ruthless. And all without proof they do this. And bystanding aloof we accrue this false information and form therefrom false identities. No way to rewind we simply must find in ourselves the entity that makes us human and multiply it by infinity; superhumanify the I, that is you. Next time they try to remind you that the possible is improbable call...

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The Memo

I fit in with me. I'm a wonderwoman who can fly and type and rhyme all while dancing to a beat created by none other than.. ME. what's NOT to love?? My last Me's misery reflected in the current One's glee; what could make you THINK for a SECOND that I somehow fail to see your idea of Me is madly incomplete? Or that I care? (let ME know so I can AMEND that *ish*) hi-writing the skyline with My pen. insatiable hungers for that that can't be come close when I open My head and let My mind do its thing and it makes Me feel much better laughter so bold it runs races with thunder and wins live My life preaching wisdom but never forgettin My sins the only One on whom My life depends I lead the way for Me in touch with Me and I like what I see who I be was meant for Me and I will never leave Myself alone again * I...

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