#Poetry

May 18, 2018
8 min

The Last Poets: the hip-hop forefathers who gave black America its voice

It is half a century since the Last Poets stood in Harlem, uttered their first words in public, and created the blueprint for hip-hop. At an intimate open house session, they explain why their revolutionary words are still needed By Rebecca Bengal | The Guardian |Fri 18 May 2018 01.00 EDT You can trace the birth of hip-hop to the summer of 1973 when Kool Herc DJ’d the first extended breakbeat, much to the thrill of the dancers at a South Bronx block party. You can trace its c

Langston Hughes’ Harlem Home Is Officially For The People

Jay Murdock

Feb 5, 2017
2 min

Langston Hughes’ Harlem Home Is Officially For The People

A non-profit has reclaimed the space where the poet once lived. By Rahel Gebreyes / Editor, HuffPost / 02/03/2017 04:44 pm ET | Updated 1 day ago Harlem artists and writers can finally call Langston Hughes’ home their own. The I, Too, Arts Collective, named for Hughes’ poem “I, Too,” held an opening event Wednesday evening at Hughes’ Harlem brownstone and invited the community to mingle, have refreshments and check out its new space. There was reason to celebrate. Not only

While You Were Sleeping – Happy Valentine’s Day!

Jay Murdock

Feb 14, 2012
1 min

While You Were Sleeping – Happy Valentine’s Day!

The lights of the city streets softly illuminated the room. You lay there sleeping just moments after we had made love for the very first time. Still glistening with perspiration from the passion we had just shared, a gentle smile graced your lovely face, which seemed to glow in the early morning light. It was if I were seeing you for the first time. Your soft brown eyes, the curve of your lips, the roundness of your face, your long flowing hair. I traced the outline of your

Kids Count: Tallying the High Costs of the Economy for Children

Jay Murdock

Aug 27, 2011
4 min

Kids Count: Tallying the High Costs of the Economy for Children

Marian Wright Edelman – President, Children’s Defense Fund Posted: 8/26/11 04:28 PM ET “I have the audacity to believe that peoples everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits.” This passage from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s acceptance speech for the 1964 Nobel Peace Prize is part of the Inscription Wall of the new memorial honoring Dr. King on the National Mall. But as we

Jay Murdock

Jun 17, 2011
1 min

Quandary, of Sorts

Do we act on change for the sake of it? Or, do we stay with the tried and true, cause it’s the thing to do? Do we continue to conserve and preserve bankrupt polices and outdated ideas while thousands die in foreign lands and here hundreds of thousands more rush head long into poverty, homelessness and despair? Or, do we care? Are we swayed by words the likes of which we haven’t heard since the days of Kennedy and King? My country tis’ of thee land of the brave and free is th

Jay Murdock

Dec 22, 2010
1 min

On a Pallet of Straw

They did not travel in an airplane. They did not travel by car. They did not travel on a streamline train. They traveled on foot from afar. They traveled on foot from afar. They did not seek a hotel, They did not seek an inn, They did not seek a bright motel, They sought a cattle bin. They sought a cattle bin. Who were these travelers on the road? And where were they going? And Why? They were Three Wise Men who came from the East, And they followed a star in the sky.

Little-Known Black History Fact: Claude McKay

Jay Murdock

Dec 10, 2010
2 min

Little-Known Black History Fact: Claude McKay

By: Erica Taylor / The Tom Joyner Morning Show – December 10, 2010 Claude McKay was a pioneering Jamaican-American poet and author during the Harlem Renaissance, who released the first publications of that historic period in black history. Born Festius Claudius McKay, he was born to a well-to-do family that made sure he received the best education possible. McKay would begin writing poetry at the early age of 10. By 1912, McKay had taken the advice of his mentor, Walter Jekyl

Jay Murdock

Nov 13, 2010
1 min

The Last Man Living

When the last man living Is left alive on earth, And somebody knocks at the door – If I am the last man living I will be no more! Who’s that? No answer. Who is that, I say? If you don’t intend to answer, Then – just – go – away. Might you be human – Or might you be a ghost? Or can you be myself Imagining things, at most If you’re somebody else, And I’m the last man alive, Just get on away from here – ‘Cause I don’t want no jive! Langston Hughes What up family? I

Jay Murdock

Nov 5, 2010
1 min

Who Remains Standing?

First, erase your name, unravel your years, destroy your surroundings, uproot what you seem, and who remains standing? Then, rewrite your name, restore your age, rebuild your house, pursue your path, and then, endlessly, start over, all over again. Andree Chedid (b. 1921) To friend who shared some very personal experiences from their past with me yesterday. I can’t help but feel this is an appropriate thought for you today. Who remains standing? Have a great weekend family,

Jay Murdock

Oct 15, 2010
1 min

A Women Who Loves

A women who loves impossible men sits a long time indoors watching windows she has no brother who understands where she is going her sisters offer their own breast up, full and creamy vessels but she cannot drink because she loves impossible men. A woman who loves impossible men listens to music she cannot sing she drinks good sherry swallowing around the notes rusted in her throat but she does not fill she is already full of love for impossible men. A women who loves impossi

Jay Murdock

Oct 12, 2010
1 min

The Artist

I am no artist but in bed I can paint with my fingertip your breast, your mouth and cheeks, and surely your crooked smile that floats around your eyebrows as you sleep. When the neighbors are gone and even the cricket quiet I am still to shy to sing the songs you taught me to the sleeping cat. I am not a poet but I can describe your glance, your voice, the way you walk in the garden before coming to bed, even each separate pebble on the path that runs the twent

Jay Murdock

Sep 17, 2010
1 min

My Father’s Geography

I was parading the Co’te d’ Azure, hopping the short trains from Nice to Cannes, following the maze of streets in Monte Carlo to the hills that overlook the vile. A woman fed me pate in the afternoon, calling from her stall to offer me more. At breakfast I talked in French to an old man about what he loved about America – the Kennedys. On the beaches I walked and watched topless women sunbathe and swim, loving both home and being so far from it. At a phone call looking to Afr

Jay Murdock

Sep 9, 2010
1 min

WITHOUT

the silence of nature within the power within. the power without. the path is whatever passes – no end in itself. the end is, grace – ease – healing, not saving. singing the proof the proof of the power within. Gary Snyder I don’t think there is anything I could – or should add to this one. Peace, Tenthltr2u #GarySnyder #Poetry

Jay Murdock

Aug 18, 2010
1 min

Old Man

Like an image from an Ansel Adams photograph, his dark brown skin stretched thin over a face that has seen better days. He hurried down the avenue at a pace that belied the need for the walking stick he held tightly by his side. Where was he hurrying to? Where was he hurrying from? Was there someone anxiously awaiting his arrival? Was there someone, anyone awaiting his return? Was he a father? A brother? For certain he was some mother’s son. Were there little ones at family r

Jay Murdock

Jul 19, 2010
1 min

Daybreak

every day i find a new life my love for freedom, our right to wear robes as we please, never sets. black voices dance in my soul like anxious sparkles. every black man is an epic, sung in the soft keys of survival. o i want, i want to hear be near all of my brothers when i die. Sterling Plumpp every blackman is an epic sung in the soft keys of survival longing to be near all of his brothers when they die Wishing you a safe and pleasant week ahead Peace Ten #Blacklivesmatter #

Jay Murdock

Jul 6, 2010
1 min

Old Sailor

He has been Many places In ships That cross the sea, He has studied varied faces, Has tasted mystery, In Oriental cities He breasted Monstrous pities And to all Fleshly pleasures Known the key. Now, Paralyzed, He suns himself In charity’s poor chair – And dreams That women he has left Lament him Everywhere. Langston Hughes To all seafarers now sunning in charity’s chair, Here’s hoping the holiday was safe and the world treats you kindly. Peace, Ten #LangstonHughes #Poetry

Jay Murdock

Jun 18, 2010
1 min

I Am A Writer

I am a writer who came from a sheltered life. A sheltered life can be a daring life as well. For all serious daring starts from within. Eudora Welty Wishing you a safe and pleasant weekend family, Peace Tenthltr2u #EudoraWelty #Poetry

Jay Murdock

Jun 14, 2010
1 min

Song of the Whirlwind

1 Oh, my God is in the whirlwind, I am walking in the valley; Lift me up, O Shinning Father, To the glory of the heavens, I have seen a thousand troubles On the journey men call living, I have drunk a thousand goblets From misfortune’s bitter wine press. But to Thee I cling forever, God of Jacob, God of Rachel. 2 Oh, my soul is in the whirlwind, I am dying in the valley, Oh, my soul is in the whirlwind And my bones are in the valley; At her spinning wheel is Mary Spinning rai

Jay Murdock

Jun 1, 2010
1 min

Soft Targets ……. for Black Girls

He was arrested and detained for nailing Barbie doll heads to telephone poles. He was beaten while in custody, accussed. After healing, he resumed his irrverent campaign, this outlawed spook terrorist continued hammering horse nails through Barbie heads and setting them aflame. Barbie never told Black girls they were beautiful. She never acknowledged their breathtaking Negritude. She never told them to possess their own souls. They were merely shadows clutching the edge of he

Jay Murdock

May 31, 2010
1 min

If I Were Earth

Each tear that fell from the crushed moon of your face, stabbed me, broke and split into a thousand pains. But I held out my arms, and not one did I miss, no, not one pain. And if I don’t let you soak into me and bring me up, if I don’t let you seep deep into me and teach me, then you can cry in the morning to the sun, and tell him to rise up and burn me away. Henry Dumas And if I don’t let you soak into me and bring me up, if I don’t let you into my heart so that I can genui

"Do not seek to follow the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought."

Basho

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Music, News and Conversation for Grown Folks

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The Last Poets: the hip-hop forefathers who gave black America its voice

Langston Hughes’ Harlem Home Is Officially For The People

While You Were Sleeping – Happy Valentine’s Day!

Kids Count: Tallying the High Costs of the Economy for Children

Quandary, of Sorts

On a Pallet of Straw

Little-Known Black History Fact: Claude McKay

The Last Man Living

Who Remains Standing?

A Women Who Loves

The Artist

My Father’s Geography

WITHOUT

Old Man

Daybreak

Old Sailor

I Am A Writer

Song of the Whirlwind

Soft Targets ……. for Black Girls

If I Were Earth

"Do not seek to follow the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought."

Basho

Back on the Block

Music, News and Conversation for Grown Folks

News and Opinion Channel

Recommendations

The Hartmann Report

The Signorile Report

The Banter - Washington DC

Roland Martin Unfiltered

Politicon

Coming to you from the heart of the 330

RadioActive1 WBOB

Your place in cyber space for the most unique
listening experience on the internet.

Follow Us On

The Last Poets: the hip-hop forefathers who gave black America its voice

Langston Hughes’ Harlem Home Is Officially For The People

While You Were Sleeping – Happy Valentine’s Day!

Kids Count: Tallying the High Costs of the Economy for Children

Quandary, of Sorts

On a Pallet of Straw

Little-Known Black History Fact: Claude McKay

The Last Man Living

Who Remains Standing?

A Women Who Loves

The Artist

My Father’s Geography

WITHOUT

Old Man

Daybreak

Old Sailor

I Am A Writer

Song of the Whirlwind

Soft Targets ……. for Black Girls

If I Were Earth

"Do not seek to follow the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought."

Basho

Back on the Block

Music, News and Conversation for Grown Folks

News and Opinion Channel

Recommendations

The Hartmann Report

The Signorile Report

The Banter - Washington DC

Roland Martin Unfiltered

Politicon

Coming to you from the heart of the 330

RadioActive1 WBOB

Your place in cyber space for the most unique listening experience on the internet.

Your place in cyber space for the most unique
listening experience on the internet.