Free Verse - NYC.gov

33 Pages·2014·19.73 MB·English

F REE
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Contents
Arrows I don’t want Out There anyone
Arenazia Cuevas Tiffany Marie Marrero Carlos Michel Lyziel Quiet Storm Kahylil
Xyrille Wylie
I Am My Father Defiant Past Tensions
Andrew DeLeonardis Andrew DeLeonardis Andrew DeLeonardis Poem #0
Abu Tahiru Sillah
on the avenue of ambition Málaga, Costa del Sol The Silent Affair
Ontario Solomon Christy Wenas Cox Peter Castaneda Blank Canvas
Cynthia Finley
Excuse Me, Ordinary Singel The Things I Gained
Harry Thomas Christy Wenas Cox Anonymous I don’t use
Lyziel Quiet Storm Kahylil
I believe Coconuts I want Xyrille Wylie
Taisha Williams Cheryl Brown John Taylor
A Short Wicked Tale of Woe
Strong Soul Visuals Thursdays Tiffany Marie Marrero
Infallible Davis Christopher Wooden Peter Castaneda
What People Don’t Know
Staying Away 12/15/97 Fried Chicken Lloyd Jones
Ruben Hernandez Napoleon Felipe Cynthia Finley
Bless
Yesterday in the Back of Happiness can Bella Rose Taqiy Witter
My Building Liz Pagan Abu Tahiru Sillah
Tahara Lilly Peace Love Respect
John Rushmore Food For Thought Reverend St. Michael Barnes
My Broken Dreams (5th period in school) Marlita Dalton
Cheryl Brown Yasmine Lancaster Life is
Deception John Taylor
Mask Candy Crush, Gabriel Baerga
Christy Wenas Cox Barbara McCain Exchange Rate
To Work Dave Johnson
Sticks Violence Abu Tahiru Sillah
Tiffany Marie Marrero John Taylor I’m Not Crazy
Poetree Cristy Baptiste
O 1 2 3 4 5 6 Ivette Laboy
Thomas Fucaloro Tahara Lilly The Guy with the Butterfly
The Narrated Story Tattoo
my eyes Tripping NYC Michael Guzman Cristy Baptiste
Abu Tahiru Sillah Ontario Solomon
Both Sides Listen,
Habitat Pulchritudinous Lloyd Jones Cynthia Finley
C.D. Hermelin Christy Wenas Cox
Help Stress Test
Mi Desayuno I know I am Francine Burbridge Darryl Williams
(My Breakfast) John Taylor
Estaban Rivera Homeless Prayer Grand~Ma Mafor
Don’t Believe in Ghost Harry Thomas Martin Tamfu
Bustelo Argenis Castro
Cheryl Brown If I Shall Die ~for my followers
Haiku Prayer Martin Tamfu Katiuska Reyes
Bacon Bits Michael Orimolade
Noel Cuadrado Life’s a Marathon Life Expectation
It’s Thursday Jabree Holder Cristy Baptiste
Don’t cry, Anonymous
Christy Wenas Cox G It’s Ugly and Painful
Single Rose Cynthia Finley Estaban Rivera
The Good Fight Peter Castaneda
Marlita Dalton It’s Times Like This Today,
and I didn’t even know it Peter Castaneda Cristy Baptiste
Homesick Christopher Wooden
Argenis Castro Waiting Room Ghost
Cheryl Brown
Don’t just wait in line. Write a line for Free Verse, The poems in the second issue of Free Verse are a
the first literary publication born in a probation center selection of “successes.” Chosen from more than 400
waiting room. submissions, the magazine features new work by
Why? Because using the time you have to think and probation clients, officers, staff, security guards, friends,
create—to write—can lead to a lot of positive outcomes. family, and professional writers, all of whom write in the
You’ll up your chances of landing a job, finishing your inspiring, re-designed probation center space.
GED, or even getting on track for a college degree. Every Many pieces for Free Verse are by new writers. Some
step equals success. And here, every success counts. returning writers are showcasing work that is the seed
Even the smallest contribution—giving a one-line riff for a first book.
on a napkin to the roaming Poet-in-Residence, listening Free Verse and the writing program are springboards
to the weekly open mic, or bringing a friend to a writing for more to come at other probation centers throughout
workshop—all of which happens in the middle of the the city. Programs like these can provide you with the
waiting room—has a pay off. necessary skills you need to reach your goals.
Writing isn’t easy, but it’s rewarding. And like many Yes, you’re in a waiting room, but you don’t have to
things in life, the more you do it, the better you become. just wait. Start doing. The door is open. Come on in!
Ask any of the dedicated writers who made the leaps
from riff to workshop to writing program—and who now — The Editors
serve as paid writing apprentices. That can be you.
in reading the second edition of Free Verse, I am Free Verse says as much about this agency’s poised to grow significantly in the coming year.
struck once again by the remarkably high quality of challenges and ambitions as any of the memos or I’d like to thank everyone who contributed their
the submissions. presentations we’ve put together over the years. voices to this project, including the Probation
DAVE JOHNSON For all of the clever things the authors do with We aren’t connecting probation clients to the arts Officers and Department of Probation staff whose
Editor-In-Chief rhyme, diction, and pacing, what makes these poems simply because it makes us feel good; we’re doing it poems are published alongside those of their clients
Poet-In-Residence great gets down to the very essence of art: honesty. because when people have positive outlets to express and members of the community. Both your words
Whether writing about addiction or religion, bacon themselves, they’re less likely to break the law. and your deeds are an inspiration.
LONNI TANNER bits or flamenco, these poems are the work of people And it goes beyond that—our most dedicated poets
Managing Editor who have taken a leap of faith and shared a piece of are now serving as apprentices and developing valu-
themselves with the world. Some of the poems are able job skills. This initiative helped lay the ground- vincent n. schiraldi
bleak, some of them are even a little scary, but that work for our larger arts initiative, which currently Commissioner
doesn’t make them any less compelling. includes songwriting and the visual arts and is Department of Probation
Arrows
Why don’t we all just become arrows?
Crazy question, I know.
But hey,
? look at it this way.
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As you draw the arrow back, it goes toward
your past, but as soon as you release,
it flies straight into the future.
And the path of an arrow
never turns sideways.
Never looks back.
ARENAZIA CUEVAS
I Am My Father on the avenue of ambition
I never knew exactly what my parents did p v e
e i v
But one thing for sure o c e
p t r
I didn’t want to live how my parents lived l o y
e r o
Both doing drugs s n
d e
With me in their home was bad parenting i a
v t s
They were both junkies e t
t o
So there’s no comparison i h p
n e s
Everyone always asked me where my parents were
h f a
3 I never knew e i t 4
a n
And it was embarrassing d i nothing.
s
But I said, “I am my father” f h
i
And saved the embarrassment r l
s i
I was practicing self-learning, I had to master it t. n
e

ANDREW DELEONARDIS a
r
e
m
a
d
e.
ONTARIO SOLOMON
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Excuse Me, Ordinary Strong Soul
I’m not trying to put you down, 16 and I been through a lot.
but you’re just not good enough. From stitches, a stab wound, to even gettin’ shot.
In this day and age, Life is a gamble.
you need to be extraordinary, Sometimes you have to take a chance.
Ordinary.
I am sorry to say INFALLIBLE DAVIS
I need a little extra.
HARRY THOMAS
Staying Away
I remember macking my block
with a bunch of friends that thought about selling rock.
I moved away ‘cause I didn’t wanna get locked.
And like 10 minutes later, all them hustlers got knocked.
5 RUBEN HERNANDEZ
I believe Yesterday in the Back of My Building
in justice for all, a man got hit by a car
though no one opens a door. and it killed him.
in opportunity, He was a guy from Mexico
though the best ones don’t reach me. on a bike
in freedom, in equality, on his way to work.
but mostly I believe It was really crazy.
in me. I got up at 6 o’clock in the morning
to go out and get a cup of coffee
TAISHA WILLIAMS and his body was just out there,
lying in the street for hours.
Ya’ll didn’t see it on the channel 12 news?
TAHARA LILLY
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My Broken Dreams Mask O my eyes
miss you

puff You sealed your mouth, my horrible
into smoke camouflaged your face, everything
and bounce out my window put up a wall, is everything ABU TAHIRU SILLAH
to hide your ache. to me, every bit of.
look how they circle
the birds as they fly CHRISTY WENAS COX How it festers
south in shivs deep
in the sky in my back
to hang
they blow lights on Habitat
into someone else’s gently
window your hands
how they wither I’ve never had occasion to call someone
maybe someone else’s dreams with wisdom’s A snake in the grass
will blow into mine lost Mostly because maybe that’s where that snake
age of drowning Should be.
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CHERYL BROWN in vintage The logic stops the words from coming out
wine. It’s like saying
You are exactly where you should be
THOMAS FUCALORO Which isn’t much of an insult
At all.
Sticks
(I shouldn’t be insulting anyone anyway)
and stones break bones, C.D. HERMELIN
but these lips have stripped em’
down to their soul.
TIFFANY MARIE MARRERO
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Mi Desayuno Bustelo
(My Breakfast)
Slave to the coffee pot.
The aroma de café I can’t stop.
so rich, so black Black espresso floats in style.
Abuela’s alarm clock, Running on speed
what a sweet melody mellows me out
los canciones de ayer without a doubt
she would always I can’t do without.
sing This is not fiction,
with so much joy, addiction is my affliction.
so much sadness, Ah yes, Bustello,
Huevos fritos that’s my good fellow.
con fried salami
toasted bread with butter, CHERYL BROWN
nothing better,
a time of innocence,
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it was family.
Don’t cry,
ESTABAN RIVERA
no need
to suffer.
Bacon Bits
Just spit out the words.
meteorites hitting the earth’s surface
covered in melted cheese CHRISTY WENAS COX
an ocean spreading across
my favorite wheat toast
a burning satellite dish
caught between my wisdom teeth.
NOEL CUADRADO
The Good Fight Homesick
One day I will not have to fight you, A woman’s silence is her loudest cry.
the partner I was given in this lottery of life
that looked so promising until the drawing A man’s smile is his biggest lie.
as each number was pulled, it was clear, it was not a winner,
just another one to go with the other ones A baby’s joy is something hard to ignore.
in a pile of must forget yesterdays.
One day I will not have to fight the voices in my head
of people’s words placed wrongly in my spirit, My daughter is crying, I can hear her.
the words that should have rolled off my back,
but somehow, were deposited in my future. My wife is quiet, I can’t see her.
One day I will not have to fight the urge to write about the sorrows I’m here, writing a poem. I just wanna’
that have been my tomorrows, before tomorrow has even gotten here.
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go home.
One day I will fight the good fight of keeping
the roaring laughter from my belly, fighting to make it out like a raging lion.
ARGENIS CASTRO
One day I will fight to open the cocoon, to let the butterflies I protected, go free.
You’ll never know the pressure I endured, to be cut, into the diamond you see.
I don’t want

MARLITA DALTON
to be the woman who lives
with fear in her heart.
TIFFANY MARIE MARRERO
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Defiant Malaga, Costa del Sol Visuals

I started off being a tyrant Flamenco In my mind
Vision was blinded by ignorant violence by the edge of the cafe a
A child with no parents provided hypnotizes me, k
Brothers and sisters divided a sweet wine me
Where’s the alliance? easing my pain. s
I guess that’s the outcome when drugs and humans combine blind
I just cracked the oppressor CHRISTY WENAS COX To
It’s time to break the silence h
I had no parental guidance e
Meeting my real parents was like rocket science
Years of therapy kind of life
My therapist was the client I
Coconuts
left
ANDREW DELEONARDIS
13 behind 14
cracked in the sun
& the
Trying to find
wind blows
i
cool around the half moon
m
Singel & insects roam the sky,
e lost, unkind.
dusk to dawn.
Beaches &
On a street barrier reefs &
in Amsterdam Caracol Mayan ruins,
with my backpack stone to sky.
I sit by this canal Ah yes, the sun of Belize
watching the Dutch makes me believe
listening in Adam and Eve,
to their lexicon and the sense of reprieve.
CHRISTY WENAS COX CHERYL BROWN CHRISTOPHER WOODEN