Sheikh Hamdan receives Cannes Award for Education (July, 2009)

Poem

Surviving The Condemners

 

Here I stand in the darkness, with my troubles on my forehead, worrying about the future, my ambitious desires and how to achieve them.

So many mockers and  jeerers, no one seems to care about what really matters now, or the journey up yonder!

With just one look, they make that judgement call, considering me a begger, a demonizer, or some foolish philosopher who just loves to talk.

But, they care not to know, that I am a person with a good heart, just overcome by poverty and struggling to find my way out of the gutters, set by the hands of humanity.

Many pronounce that violets are red. Others pronounce the sky is blue. Some wants chit-chattering, but to a fool like me, no one cares to say, howdy-do

The media broadcasts daily killing sprees, as though, it was Christmas shopping in the stores of Macy's, 

Thirteen years of age, robbing and stabbing strangers... just passersby, for no good reasons, and none of the educators, can seem to fine the solutions for this generational season of evil doers... what a hypacrocy.

Is this a Bible fulling prophecy, I wonder. Or is it the Devil, smoking, joking or drinking up some hard cold liquor?

But how can mankind ever get it right, when there is so much Classisms, very little Love and Humanitarianism, showing day or night in this beautiful world we are dwelling in?

I know, there are few of us who still do care, but just like Jesus, they will hang us on a tree, then call our enemies to share in our fatal catastrophes, placing harsh lashes on our skin while smart-phones going click-click taking pictures of out merciless endings!

Hey you, with the good heart, many want to see you dead, whether falling off a cleft,  a bullet to the head, or your body broken in pieces and dismantle in a train wreck!

Hey you, with the helping hands, some, want you staying in the dark, because there, you can't find your purpose or locate the powers of your heart

Hey you, with the books in your hands, always wanting to read, constantly trying to learn, as though, your plans are to catch up to the Earth's Prophecy's like the man Nostradamus and the godly Corinthians; seeking out theology, as if, God would fully trust them with his handy works or his mix-mix dealings.

Thankfully, though, a little light had shun brightly upon me. Or else, the cold-hearted demons and vagabonds of the world, in high and low societies, would have already crucify me, sending me off to join my ancestries. And having me, abandoning my earthly mission or what was supposed to be; my spiritual victories. 

By: Constance C. Williams
aka; Lady C

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Poem

Inside The Stones Yard

The yellowish parchment sat on his desk in front of him, I though it was a floor plan for a house or some mighty building.

Handing the drawings to the African woman, he said to me; "Get to know him, because I won't be the one to marry you!"

"Let me see it!" I shouted running off to snatch the parchment document from the black woman's hand.

Soon, I was outnumbered with quite a few black women, fiddling and giggling with the priced document in their hands, trying their best to keep it from my eyes

But, I already had caught  a glance of it, and knew that a beautiful man was printed on the surface of it!

His black shiny hair I could easily identify on land or sea, but these women handle the parchment artistry were filled with all sorts of wizardry.

Nonetheless, my heart filled with concerns somehow told me,if he truly belongs with me, he would certainly find away to come and get me.

The man behind the desk stood still, while I studied his ever subtle and changing face, soul, body and even religiosity... now turning his face away from me, he knew of the shamefulness and heart pain he had single-handed bestowed upon me. My thoughts echoing from my head to my heart.

My reflection shifted, and I began wondering, if he and these, almost seven female wizards had conspired to destroy me?

Our talks of marriage was now no more... had abruptly stopped! Because my desire for tying the knot and the lack there of, was his and his cronies undercover happiness. 

But I, intuitively and instinctively knew, that that parchment paper handled by others, held my future, my kingdom and the man who truly loves me.

By Constance . C Wiliams
AKA Lady C.