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African American

African American

Poetry Corner: Wanted (AKA F “History”)

Published by communitypublishingabq@gmail.com on July 13, 2016 Respond

Wanted (AKA F “History”) by Hakim Bellamy

Whitney Houston was wrong.
These nappy headed babies right here
will never be the future.

Why?
Because we are not good at math.

Counted below average.
Less than, when asked

what the life expectancy of a man is
& we are all fingers & toes to the answer…

only the calculator is laughing.

Told we don’t get it,
when we do.

We always get it
in the end.

Slave to the final grade
even after we show all our work…
nothing but a pool of red ink.

No,sir.
Yes, sir.
I don’t know sir.

Wrong.
Again.
But only in math class, Whitney.

Never in English
Gift rapped, but never “gifted”
unless we eulogize ourselves
to heartbreaks,
exquisite corpses,
and hot sixteens.

But as soon as we give one single fuck in a poem,
they get an “F”

and all that is left
is history.

Whitney, when you ask the the mini me’s
if we want to be history…

we’ll tell you “No.”

No little boy grows up saying
“I want to be
history”

When “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
becomes a rhetorical essay question…

Don’t give Susan “A”
give us a
hug.

Do more than “C” us,
love us.

Because Nat &
Frederick &
Booker &
W.E.B. &
Marcus &
Nelson &
Medgar &
Malcom &
Martin &
Stokely &
Amiri &

the rest of this cotton pickin’ history
in our DNA.

Even the tests
are scared of themselves,
made to memorize the dates and names
of good people that died in bad ways
a list that gets longer every other day…

When the right answer is a trigger
and the wrong answer is trauma
the test becomes impossible

but “you gon’ learn today”
why the “A”
in straight As really stands for afraid.

Been there,
done that,
got the T-shirt.

Celebrated
when black surnames span the back
right atop a number…

but expunged
when black first names
are numbered
down the front.

And there’s always too many numbers.

So we be like
Fuck math

because it’s scary

But so are lists.
Ask Philando & Alton
how it felt to be retired.
To have their dance cards pulled and punched.
To have their jerseys hung
from the rafters of the American myth.

So when we heard the words
“Tamir has passed”
and tricked ourselves into believing
it had anything remotely to do with “class”…

we failed him
again.

Flunked ourselves
because past is prologue
and it seems like none of the grown ups
have done the homework.

Being Black
is being famous
for all the wrong reasons,
Whitney.

The future is a cruel
joke some teacher invented
just to get our hopes up.

Words like promise and potential
ring hollow when followed by a procession
of Thursday afternoon church bells,
like Black students’ names
always followed by ampersands
and…
and…
and…

Fuck history.

We never wanted to “make” history.
What we wanted,
was to make 25.

Wanted to make different lists.
Wanted to be wanted.
Wanted to be more
than the correct answer
on test.


* Originally published on July 10, 2016 on Mr. Bellamy’s Website, Be-Side
© Hakim Bellamy 2016

Community Publishing has published Hakim Bellamy’s Samuel’s Story, a multimedia children’s story featuring the music of DJ Flo Fader and the illustrations of Melvin Mayes available in Print and Digital editions.

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Hakim Bellamy

Hakim Bellamy

Hakim Bellamy is Albuquerque’s Inaugural Poet Laureate. He is also a scholar, educator, musician, and poet. Community Publishing has published Hakim Bellamy’s Samuel’s Story, a multimedia children’s story featuring the music of DJ Flo Fader and the illustrations of Melvin Mayes available in Print and Digital editions.

Community Publishing brings local artists of all mediums together in creative collaborations for distribution as Multimedia Books while promoting literacy in our communities. We are proud to be a community partner and digital marketer at the Rail Yards Market and the Monte Vista Fire Station. Need help with your web presence and social media marketing? Click here to find out how we can help you!

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Guest Poet: Nikki Giovanni

Published by communitypublishingabq@gmail.com on February 17, 2016

Walking Down Park by Nikki Giovanni

walking down park
amsterdam
or columbus do you ever stop
to think what it looked like
before it was an avenue
did you ever stop to think
what you walked
before you rode
subways to the stock
exchange (we can’t be on
the stock exchange
we are the stock
exchanged)

did you ever maybe wonder
what grass was like before
they rolled it
into a ball and called
it central park
where syphilitic dogs
and their two-legged tubercular
masters fertilize
the corners and side-walks
ever want to know what would happen
if your life could be fertilized
by a love thought
from a loved one
who loves you

ever look south
on a clear day and not see
time’s squares but see
tall Birch trees with sycamores
touching hands
and see gazelles running playfully
after the lions
ever hear the antelope bark
from the third floor apartment

ever, did you ever, sit down
and wonder about what freedom’s freedom
would bring
it’s so easy to be free
you start by loving yourself
then those who look like you
all else will come
naturally

ever wonder why
so much asphalt was laid
in so little space
probably so we would forget
the Iroquois, Algonquin
and Mohicans who could caress
the earth

ever think what Harlem would be
like if our herbs and roots and elephant ears
grew sending
a cacophony of sound to us
the parrot parroting black is beautiful black is beautiful
owls sending out whooooo’s making love …
and me and you just sitting in the sun trying
to find a way to get a banana tree from one of the monkeys
koala bears in the trees laughing at our listlessness

ever think its possible
for us to be
happy

*****
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Walking Down ParkNikki Giovanni, is one of the best-known African-American poets who reached prominence during the late 1960s and early 1970s. Giovanni’s first published volumes of poetry grew out of her response to the assassinations of such figures as Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Medgar Evers, and Robert Kennedy, and the pressing need she saw to raise awareness of the plight and the rights of black people. More about Ms. Giovanni here.

We are proud to be a community partner and digital marketer at the Rail Yards Market and the Monte Vista Fire Station. Need help with your web presence and social media marketing? Click here to find out how we can help you! 
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Guest Poet: Langston Hughes: Let America Be America Again

Published by communitypublishingabq@gmail.com on February 10, 2016 Respond

Let America Be America Again by Langston Hughes

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That’s made America the land it has become.
O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home—
For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,
And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came
To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed
And all the songs we’ve sung
And all the hopes we’ve held
And all the flags we’ve hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay—
Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again—
The land that never has been yet—
And yet must be—the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine—the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME—
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath—
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain—
All, all the stretch of these great green states—
And make America again!

*****
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LandlordLangston Hughes is one of the most important literary figures of the 20th Century. His poetry and fiction portrayed the lives of the working-class African Americans in America, lives he portrayed as full of struggle, joy, laughter, and music. Read More…

Community Publishing brings local artists of all mediums together in creative collaborations for distribution as Multimedia Books while promoting literacy in our communities.

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Poetry: Langston Hughes

Published by communitypublishingabq@gmail.com on September 23, 2015

The Ballad of the Landlord by Langston Hughes

Landlord, landlord,
My roof has sprung a leak.
Don’t you ‘member I told you about it
Way last week?

Landlord, landlord,
These steps is broken down.
When you come up yourself
It’s a wonder you don’t fall down.

Ten Bucks you say I owe you?
Ten Bucks you say is due?
Well, that’s Ten Bucks more’n I’l pay you
Till you flx this house up new.

What? You gonna get eviction orders?
You gonna cut off my heat?
You gonna take my furniture and
Throw it in the street?

Um-huh! You talking high and mighty.
Talk on-till you get through.
You ain’t gonn a be able to say a word
If I land my fist on you.

Police! Police!
Come and get this man!
He’s trying to ruin the government
And overturn the land!

Copper’s whistle!
Patrol bell!
Arrest.
Precinct Station.
Iron cell.
Headlines in press:
MAN THREATENS LANDLORD
TENANT HELD NO BAIL
JUDGE GIVES NEGRO 90 DAYS IN COUNTY JAIL!

*****
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LandlordLangston Hughes is one of the most important literary figures of the 20th Century. His poetry and fiction portrayed the lives of the working-class African Americans in America, lives he portrayed as full of struggle, joy, laughter, and music. Read More…

Community Publishing brings local artists of all mediums together in creative collaborations for distribution as Multimedia Books while promoting literacy in our communities.

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Guest Poet: Amiri Baraka

Published by communitypublishingabq@gmail.com on February 18, 2015 Respond

Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note

Lately, I’ve become accustomed to the way
The ground opens up and envelopes me
Each time I go out to walk the dog.
Or the broad edged silly music the wind
Makes when I run for a bus…

Things have come to that.

And now, each night I count the stars.
And each night I get the same number.
And when they will not come to be counted,
I count the holes they leave.

Nobody sings anymore.

And then last night I tiptoed up
To my daughter’s room and heard her
Talking to someone, and when I opened
The door, there was no one there…
Only she on her knees, peeking into

Her own clasped hands

“There is no depth to education without art.” – Amiri Baraka

*****
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Prelude to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note

Amiri Baraka

“The dramatist, novelist and poet, Amiri Baraka is one of the most respected and widely published African-American writers…Amiri Baraka’s writing career spans over nearly fifty years and has mostly focused on the subjects of Black Liberation and White Racism. Today, a number of well known poems, short stories, plays and commentaries on society, music and literature are associated with his name…The literary world respects the playwright and poet, Amiri Baraka as one of the revolutionary provocateurs of African-American poetry.” Read More

Community Publishing brings local artists of all mediums together in creative collaborations for distribution as multimedia eBooks while promoting literacy in our communities.

We are proud to be a community partner and digital marketer at the Rail Yards Market.
#JoinOurCommunity at http://communitypublishing.org

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Guest Poet: Zachary Kluckman

Published by communitypublishingabq@gmail.com on November 26, 2014

Winter Wears me Naked by Zachary Kluckman

I.

As much as I love their whispers
I cannot touch the trees today.

Jesse Washington. George Meadows. Emmett Till.

Their crooked fingers, naked in winter
like accusations of the nightmares
we have made them party to.

Today, I picture the bodies.
Hundreds of men and women killed by fear.
The thought of their lynchings
crawls under my skin and shivers
like a dying thing,
a small dog in the rain.

Does this make you uncomfortable

Let it.
In fact go deeper.

Imagine the knots that held them
slipped loose and down , around
your wrists, then pulled
until your pale, fish belly body
swung in the wind, imagine
your eyes as bird feeders for crows
your body, your bones
a secret left for the sun to expose
and maybe, finally,
touch the edge of what it means
to live in fear of your skin.

Stephen Watts. Tamir Rice. Michael Brown.

You’ve stopped asking us to do your dirty work
but you’re still killing them

They are shrieking through wind whistles.
Worse yet, they are right,
I don’t know what to say.

Racism is a conversation we need to have every day.
The sunken hollows where their eyes
used to be are an urgent punctuation.

Are you afraid? Do you have trouble
imagining yourself castrated and tied
to a cotton gin in the middle of a swamp.
There is a word for that.
Privilege. They are screaming. Privilege.

I am afraid that I am guilty as birds
for removing them from their bones.

II.

When Michael Brown was shot down
Officer Wilson took the privilege of watching him
bleed out, knowing his white skin
would protect him from prison,
then told a that Brown looked like a demon.

They tell me there is a war on,
in this country, against people of color.
I disagree.

In war there are survivors.

III.

When organized men armed with tactical gear
and training assault people of color in the streets,
this is not something as civilized as war, this
is genocide.

In war, both sides are fighting,
both armed and prepared for conflict,
in battle there has at least been
an open declaration of war.

There are no treaties here.
No peace talks or rules
for the treatment of prisoners.
Our nation’s young black men
and women are not given these considerations.
The police just kill them, and tell us
they looked like demons.

IV.

The Geneva convention(s) protects
prisoners of war from violence
to life and person, in particular
murder of all kinds,
assaults upon personal dignity,
passing sentence or carrying out executions.

Tell me how a child is shot ten times
and left to bleed in the street,
how prisoners of war are treated
with more dignity than our own citizens.
how a black man is killed
every 28 hours by the police,
tell me again how we are free.

Between murder and incarceration
tell me again how this country
does not keep slaves.

V.

I can not begin to understand what it means
to carry a target in your skin, as if
there were some genetic marker for murder,
to look at a tree and wonder how many
of your ancestors swung from its branches
at the end of a rope, what it means to live
in a country whose entire history
is built on the ashes of your kin,
on their blood, and their skin,

But I can refuse to repeat that history,
refuse to roll in those ashes,
I can speak truth, speak of trees
like Langston Hughes spoke of rivers.
I can promise the trees
I will never be silent again

VI.

This is my skin, like winter.
A tree cannot be blamed for the dirt
or the blood at its roots, but this skin
carries a history of violence, my silence
would only make me complicit

we must speak with our brothers and sisters
we must speak in a voice of thousands
until the killers are scattered

The time for resistance
is always.

Winter Wears Me NakedZachary Kluckman is a multi-award winning author, poet and spoken word artist recently named the 2014 Slam Artist of the Year at the National Poetry Awards. A two-time member of the Albuquerque National Poetry Slam team, and touring artist, he has performed across the nation, sharing the stage with many of the top artists in the world. His writing, performances and workshops around the world have earned him distinction, but at heart he is an activist, youth advocate and community organizer. In 2014 he received a Gold Medal award from the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards as a Teacher for his work with young writers. Zachary has written and edited several books, most recently, Some of It is Muscle (Swimming With Elephants Publications, 2014), Trigger Warning: Poetry Saved My Life anthology (Swimming With Elephants Publications, 2014), Animals In Our Flesh (Red Mountain Press, 2012). Read more about Zachary by clicking here.
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Happy Landings at the Rail Yards Market

Published by communitypublishingabq@gmail.com on October 4, 2014 Respond

By Alex Paramo

Each year the Albuquerque International T-ShirtBalloon Fiesta attracts hundreds of thousands of folks from all over the world! Balloon enthusiasts fill the streets of this beautiful city, while hot-air balloons add more colors to the already magnificent color palette of it’s mesmerizing sky! Year after year the Balloon Fiesta seems more breathtaking than the previous and a visit to Albuquerque is not complete without a visit to the International Balloon Fiesta Museum/Park. Every year Albuquerque seems more vibrant, with an increasing number of attractions and must-experience venues!

The Heart of the City

Dan GardunoLocated in beautiful Barelas, the Rail Yards Market is part of that ever-expanding list of must-experience venues but it is not easily classifiable. It is much more than a market but rather a meeting place, where a vortex of sights, sounds, aromas and tastes congregate, every Sunday from 9am to 3pm! Artists of all mediums converge with educators and a dedicated community of volunteers to create a truly one-of-a-kind experience! It is truly a world-class event where patrons can shop from local growers, listen to amazing music, partake in mindful stretching, learn from dedicated educators, and be exposed to cutting-edge art while being exposed to ideas regarding sustainability and a reintroduction to traditional ways of living.

Education through the Arts

Pop Up ArtAt the Pop Up Arts Zone we have an Interactive installation by  Rosalie M. López “¿No estoy yo aquí, Am I not here? Ms. López is a Chicana conceptual artist whose work revolves around reforming religious and cultural iconography to express ambivalences in contemporary culture. Her work often discusses the duality of dysfunctional social cycles juxtaposed with positive expressions of cultural identity and communal strength. She primarily uses printmaking, installation, and the altar/ofrenda to relay experiences of survival, loss, and hope. She is currently working with students of Working Classroom to create contemporary installation altars dedicated to this lost to preventable deaths. The work will be displayed in an exhibition November 2 at 100 Gold Ave. SW (corner of 1st and Gold).

Africana StudiesThe Children’s Zone features Africana Leadership Opportunity Team (ALOT), LLC which provides innovative educational solutions for the community, in higher education, and for New Mexico’s children through Africana Cultural Arts. Children will have the opportunity to create art while exploring Africana history and culture, and using interesting new tools. ALOT will also provide art made by Third World Outliers, an artist collective within ALOT, to support the no cost educational programming. ALOT creates well-developed and content rich project-based curriculum that meets the New Mexico State Standards, as well as exceeds the benchmarks set by the New Common Core Initiative and recommendations by the Arts Education Partnership and the National Collation for Core Arts Standards. Through innovative programming, ALOT has served over 200 youth and over 150 UNM Students just this year through the ALOT Summer School for Educational Transformation (ASSET), the ALOT Cultural Arts Program at APS, and art seminars across the city. ALOT is comprised of certified teachers, UNM Faculty, students, and community members who believe that art, learning, and teaching are the most radical of acts.

Labor DayThe Sustainability Zone will be promoting the concept of sustainability through the SUVA school hunger program. Donnine Canamar will be talking about student hunger and why as a system, we need to correct this imbalance. She will be handing out literature about the program as well as info about where people can donate.

On our Stages

We have many entertainers schedule for this Sunday including (complete schedule):

  • Morning Movement with Melanie on the Community Stage
  • Poetry
  • The Whiskey Priest

Specials for Balloon Fiesta Patrons

We welcome you at the Rail Yards Market after your balloon experience with great specials courtesy of our amazing vendors, and growers! We are open from 9am to 3pm every Sunday through November 2. Visit the Rail Yards Market and you will be able to tell your friends that you had a unique Albuquerque experience! See You Sunday!

Alex Paramo Community Publishing

Alex Paramo

Alex Paramo is an Author and Co-Founder of Community Publishing. Community Publishing brings local artists of all mediums together in creative collaborations for distribution as multimedia eBooks while promoting literacy in our communities.

We are proud to be a community partner and digital marketer at the Rail Yards Market.#JoinOurCommunity at http://communitypublishing.org

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