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Bennu: a Literary Journal: Volume Two 2010
Bennu: a Literary Journal: Volume Two 2010
Bennu: a Literary Journal: Volume Two 2010
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Bennu: a Literary Journal: Volume Two 2010

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Bennett College is a small, private, historically Black liberal arts college for women. The College offers women an education conducive to excellence in scholarly pursuits; preparation for leadership roles in the workplace, society, and the world; and life-long learning in a technologically advanced, complex global society. As a United Methodist Church-related institution, Bennett College promotes morally grounded maturation, intellectual honesty, purposeful public service, and responsible civic action.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateJan 30, 2012
ISBN9781468525472
Bennu: a Literary Journal: Volume Two 2010
Author

Bennett College for Women

The students, faculty and staff of the Bennett College for Women proudly offer Bennu: A Literary Journal, a collection of poetry, short fiction, plays and essays. Because this work has been authored by many contributors, no one theme is dominant.

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    Book preview

    Bennu - Bennett College for Women

    Bennu

    A Literary Journal

    Volume Two 2010

    Bennett College for Women

    missing image file

    AuthorHouse™

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 1-800-839-8640

    © 2012 by Bennett College for Women. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    First published by AuthorHouse 01/25/2012

    ISBN: 978-1-4685-2549-6 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4685-2548-9 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4685-2547-2 (ebk)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2012901436

    Printed in the United States of America

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Contents

    Poetry

    I Say I Am

    Fresh Woman

    Defining Hope

    About Roses

    Marching To The Dream

    Untitled

    Bush Tea

    Whispers

    Desperation

    Soul Travel

    Antipode*

    Stars Immigrate

    Standing Tall In Quicksand

    Terminology Of The Sword

    The Truth

    How Can This Be?

    Untitled

    Abdul’s Song

    My Kind Of Man

    Tested

    What He Doesn’t Know

    Sleeping Beauty

    ¡Por Fin Te Encuentro!

    A Love Robbed By A Longing Of Sexual Contentment

    Absolution

    Mimi Ni Salama

    We Can’t Judge A Book By Its Cover

    You Mean To Me

    These Bones Are Poems

    Train Whistle In My Mind

    You

    White Night

    Taste

    Radiance

    Salaryman

    People Of Color

    It’s Hard Being A Young Woman

    Family Thoughts

    Wind Guider

    Are You The Leading Lady

    Or The Understudy?

    . . . Más Allá…

    Sitting On Aunt Ruby’s Stoop

    Sufi Songs

    Shadows On The Water

    Wake

    Why Change Now To Be An Ideal Father Figure?

    Good And Bad

    Dear Creature,

    What Is Your Mission?

    Untitled

    Pops, Play Your Part

    Daddy’s Little Girl

    Ms. Belle

    The Sad Eyes Looking At Me

    Obscuration Of The Truth

    Transparent

    Hieronymus And Bosch

    (Or Late One Night)

    Timeworn Echo

    We Are Not Criminals

    Kayip Cennet

    Lost Paradise

    Three Haikus On Russian Themes

    Unfinished Work To Do

    Shairi Kuhusu Chuo Cha Bennett

    Greed 14 Lines

    My Pleasure

    Brother Atlas

    Passion

    Untitled

    A Poem For Megan Williams

    Love Lost

    A Poem For Us

    Белая Ночь

    What Happens To A Black

    Woman Degraded?

    Something ’Bout Aretha

    Short Stories/Narratives/Plays

    LORD YOUR GRACE

    Excerpt From Diana Sands…,

    A One-Woman Play

    LYDIA ZINOVIEVA-ANNIBAL (1866-1907)

    SWIMMING IN THE DEEP END

    SHE WAS ASLEEP

    RECONSTRUCTION

    SIMPLY PERFECT!

    FLASH BACK

    ROSES

    Untitled

    MY MAMA’S FRIENDS

    MY ANGEL LIKES TO BE CALLED SKITTLES

    Academic Essay

    PREDATORY SPECIESISM, WELFARE, AND RIGHTS

    Dictionary of Twentieth Century Black Leaders

    KAMAU

    Poetry

    I Say I Am

    I say I am music

    For the rhythms move me

    The lyrics, they are the air that I breathe

    I say I am like Dr. King

    For I too have a dream

    But it’s for black people to live together in peace

    I say I am like the mute, unable to speak

    For my thoughts are better off read than said

    I say I am like the Virgin Mary

    Since it will only be by the Holy Spirit that I conceive

    Don’t get me wrong, I do love children

    It’s just not my job to bear them

    Instead I tend to nurture those already here

    Who no one seems to want

    So like Michael Jackson, I’ll be there

    I claim to be like Cinderella

    Except I am already a Queen waiting for my King

    To one day come and rescue me

    So what if I live my life like a fairy tale

    Just call me Sleeping Beauty

    Since I’m walking through life with my eyes closed anyway

    Dreaming every night and all day

    I say I am like a leaf on a tree

    Just being until the time is up for me

    Then I will rest and let my works speak for me

    And my tombstone simply states

    I AM ME

    Queen

    Fresh Woman

    Fresh woman

    Confused in the dark

    A little black girl so lost

    Views still black and white

    Dream of the unknown

    Lying beyond the limits

    Rushing from the breasts

    Green as a string bean

    Pretending to be all grown

    Eyes so wide and long

    Eager to be free

    Blinded by the glare of lights

    Still full speed ahead

    Cannot stop so fast

    Too close now she can’t pull back

    She hits the mirage wall HARD

    Konica Haynes

    Defining Hope

    There are two Shadows of leadership

    In this black stillness, destiny is to fade the light

    They ease slowly and surely toward dignity

    In Long stretched wheels—

    Long stretched wheels that glide up capitol hills to fight—

    To fight a battle that seems to have already been won

    But it is by this challenger who knows the battle has just begun

    Change and hope shiver the bones to breathe desire

    Hands to foreheads salute as we wait to be inspired

    First Ladies arrive and it’s their strength their men survive

    Survive the testing times

    There is a flag that waves cheerfully

    Horns play in patriotic symphonies that shower

    Drums roll silent for victories are in the hour

    Unity vision and greatness are echoed through a pledge of power

    It is these cannons that against the odds are raised

    Raised from purpose, faith and duties connected to a face

    Heritage of falling heroes and guardians of liberty we no longer see

    Moments of a defining generation whose movement generated and started with me

    There were frozen smiles of prosperity on that cold but memorable day

    Inclusion not exclusion is what must pave our way

    Keepers of legacy unbroken in no need of restraint

    As our President speaks of the future we no longer imply the word can’t

    Although it began with the persistence of a man

    We are a nation, together, in efforts we stand

    Hand in Hand

    Our country

    Our land

    Torn are the Shackles

    Because

    YES WE CAN

    Nicole Miller

    About Roses

    Her father said, "Give her one Rose, one perfect Rose each year

    to mark this day."

    Her lover said, A Rose, a perfect Rose! Roses are not bread or earth or sustenance—and one should not make promises that one can’t keep.

    Yet out of the bread and sustenance came bushes and bushes of Roses.

    Which only goes to show

    Fathers can’t know everything

    Not even when it comes to love.

    Ruth Lucier

    Marching To The Dream

    One day I met a man holding up a sign.

    Cold and lonely he was wrapped in a blanket

    Looked at me and started crying,

    "Tell me how can I survive tomorrow

    If I can’t get through today?

    I lost my job I worked my whole life

    and my savings are spent away."

    I told him, "My brother walk with me

    and together we will march

    And spread Martin Luther King’s dream through the slums of the parks.

    We will get through this time together

    Nobody can survive alone.

    Let’s end poverty forever and make our nation a home."

    One day I saw a lady crying on the street.

    She looked scared and helpless

    Terrified she cried to me,

    "Tell me how can I survive tomorrow

    If I can’t get through today?

    No friends, no family, no love

    Alone in the world with AIDS."

    I looked at her and said, "My sister walk with me

    And together we will march

    And spread Martin Luther King’s dream through the slums of the parks.

    We will get through this time together

    Nobody can survive alone.

    Let’s care for the sick forever and make our nation a home."

    One day I met a young boy standing on the corner.

    Selling drugs to support his family

    To take care of himself and his mother.

    He said, "Tell me how can I survive tomorrow

    If I can’t get through today?

    I don’t have an education, or degree

    And the rent is two months late."

    I told him," Young fellow walk with me

    And together we will march

    And spread Martin Luther King’s dream through the slums of the parks.

    We will get though this time together

    Nobody can survive alone.

    Let’s end violence and drugs on every corner forever and make our nation a home."

    And side by side we all marched on.

    Through the slums, ghettos, and hoods.

    Transforming ourselves into kings and queens

    Until everyone understood;

    That when our sisters are dying

    So are we.

    When a child is hungry

    We all starve.

    And when one man suffers pain and sickness

    America loses the DREAM.

    So next time you see a hopeless man struggling to survive

    Tell him, say to him, My brother you are not alone, and march by his side.

    Tiara Miller

    Untitled

    Separation between fingertips and loose smiles

    As the wind blows my hair over my shoulder, I look back

    Back to where the smell is familiar and where the touch

    comforts my soul

    Back to where the acceptance is honest in the grips truth,

    dearest now holds

    Proud as the trees towering as the leaves take their route to coast

    Coast to a balance of understanding

    Separation between

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