Long Traffic signal Poems

Exactly five years ago I lived in a city
that I named as the city of my struggles
quite an imposing brand you would say
but I found it appropriate in my mid-twenties.
I crawled against my inertia to...

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Craziest Time in Amphan 
                      
      Forecast of cyclone...

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Enthusiasm is a sharp blade in our toolbox of genuine stories.
The box embroidered with desire and filled with emotions you learned before thinking
to raise your right hand 
and give your answer an
honest try.

A want
to be...

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Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Black Inventors
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: August/2013

Black 
Inventors
are 
the forgotten,

There's 
no mention
of them
in 
America's
history 
books -

And 
school
goes on
as usual,

America,
is
not
telling the
truth -

Like 
the lie
they
continue
to tell
about
Christopher
 Columbus -

Did he 
really
discover
America,

when 
Native 
Americans
were
already 
here?

What 
are you
afraid 
of
America?

It's time to
re-write 
the 
 history
books;

This time,
include
black 
history,
and
all 
that we
contributed,
to this 
country -

Teach
the  children
the truth -

America,
let them
 know
that:

Dr. Charles Drew
(a black...

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It Has Always Been Like This

It has always been like this, since the very first slap.
We will go north this morning, then go south in the evening,
Then we will step this way, and then that...

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And the cemetery was thunderstruck,
so was I.
Cold, gray, March evening—
winds pushing the clouds
spewing slanting icy rain, 
with a low angry murmur.

From the traffic signal I saw you,
standing firm on the ground
your neck stretched upward,
looking directly...

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Amidst the heavy crowd,
I was the only one who could
discern clearly the adorned God;
I did see the people bowed
and looked small before me and God
while I was sitting on the arms of my Dad.

When everyone...

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             The thoughts are risen: But nobody to listen;
             Hot breaths...

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on the other-side of a grave wall 
there may rightly be a water-vessel 
that is chicken-hearted by birth  

there may not be around her 
a stretching of water-body 

do remember 
when we all went...

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Stop and read 2x2 ft sheet of metal with red  with white letters
Stop who said claims William Eno New York businessman or be it Harold Harry Jackson working in the Detroit busy Street intersection
Stop...

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In NYC where cardboard boxes and bums come from
In the comfort of his brown paper home
The smelly old man sleeps on a concrete ground of cold
Snores alone like a train in heat
Unaware of his left...

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A soul in flight soars above the grimy midnight mist only to be swallowed by audacious moonlight droplets.
Heart, mind and artery
skip seamlessly across a canvass wet and damp,
soaking up the wild blue mildew spot flood.
Chair...

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