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Poetry Book

RHYTHMS IN PURPLE

Pieces of a Poet

~Written By~

Kyrielle Simile

Published by Kim Morris

First Edition

Facebook: Kim Morris

This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to actual events, real people, living or dead, organization, establishments, locales are products of the author’s imagination. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously.

Author Photo: by J. Campbell

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by information storage and retrieval system without the written permission from the publisher and writer.

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.

Acknowledgments

Acknowledgements

I thank God for blessing me with a marvelous gift to speak through the artistry of words. My poetry is an up close and personal peek into my thoughts and heart.

Thanks to all of my supporters, each of you I genuinely love from the depths of my heart.

Dedications

Dedication

This book of poetry I dedicate to the memory of Lathelbert “Lee” Campbell.

Table of Contents

RAISING SONS

THIS BOX

WHERE I COME FROM

TIPSY KIND OF LOVE

SECRETS

NOTHING ABOUT LOVE

NEVER GIVE UP

MASK

LOVE

LOVE & WAR

GOING TO MAKE IT

LOOKING BACK

LIFE ~vs~GUNS

JOURNEY TO HERE

IN MEMORY OF

IF & WHY

I AM EVE

HOOD RICH

HERE I AM

HARLEY RIDER

BEHIND

BACK TRACKING

A WORD TO OUR YOUTH

FOR YOU

MY DAD

WHO AM I

I CAME

YOU ARE

ODE TO POP

THE LOOK

TRUTHFULLY SPEAKING

LIFE

LIFE PART II

IT’S LIFE AGAIN

JOYFUL PAIN

I’M SO GLAD

FOR THE GIRLS

LITTLE BOYS ANTHEM

SUCCESSFULLY SPEAKING

WHAT HE SAID TO ME

Raising Sons

Raising Sons

Published in Forge Journal October 2010

I am woman

From the strands of my hair to the tips of my toes

I am raising sons to be men in a world not sympathetic to my woes

Sons,

I am raising sons from my breast, to my knees, to my hips, to towering over me

I am raising sons,

Raising sons from an image of what a man is supposed to be

My father raised by his father, his father, his father and his father

Symbolic of strength, intellect, love and family

No instructions included, no theories proven right

Just a woman raising sons gloved for fight after fight

With stereotyping, profiling and the system

I’m raising sons to be strong black men, not victims

Men with conquering minds, hearts of love,

Who walk in the footsteps of righteousness

Whose calloused hands mold, shape and create,

I am raising sons

Raising sons from little black boys to strong black men

I stand firm and mediate,

Though I am woman

The seeds I sowed excluded the wo-

And came up man

Sons,

Handsome black sons raised by woman.

This Box

THIS BOX

This box this box

Confining me

Walls closing in giving me a narrow view of the world I see

This box this box

Contains all the parts and inner workings of me

Pages of my life

Nailed to the wall

Vivid photos of my struggle to be

But the image I see in the mirror on its wall

Is a different me

The soul I long to set free

This box this box

Restrictive

Suppressing my dreams

But writing is addictive

Its free flowing

Pushes my thoughts to the extreme

Dares to be contained in this box

Like an earthquake

4.6 on the Richter

Its expressive nature

Makes the walls shake

This box this box

Outside of it is where I want to be

Using the art of words creatively

Where I Come From

WHERE I COME FROM

When I grew up I grew up poor

No silver spoon just a feeling that I always wanted more

Though my belly was full and

Impressum

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