December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

WHEN MAHALIA SINGS by Quandra Prettyman.

We used to gather in the high window of the holiness church and, tip-toe, look in and laugh at the dresses, too small on the ladies, and how wretched they all looked-an old garage for a church, for pews, old wooden chairs.
It seemed a lame excuse for a church.

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

Early one morning when the sun was down Flatbush part of New York town Hey ho there ain't no foe All one body got to heal and grow. Abner Louima his name This... ABNER LOUIMA by Stephan Smith.
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