Domino Pieces (part one)

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background, Brooklyn, culture, Domino, Haiti, Haitian, home, new York, NYC, poem, Poetic, poetry, Words, write

On the corner of Troy and Eastern Parkway,

There’s a hive of Haitians.

Swarming an old wooden table

Skeleted with Domino Pieces

Summoning loud conversations about…

Who knows?
It attracts me Home
It attracts me Home.

Where these old tables are glistened to look new

With skinny metal legs twisting

“I need to pee”

Yet, it still withstood the exhilarating slams

Of Domino Pieces.

Reverberating magnificent melody behind mountains;

An echo that seizes attention,

Ask for respect–your temptation.
It reminds me of Home

TBLS: The Brooklyn Latin School

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art, beauty, Brooklyn, city, education, motivation, NYC, poem, poetry, reading, school, smile, writing

I’m me, who are you?
Do you skate, do you dance?
Do you look at a person’s mind like taking a glance?
Do you find yourself on the half court and still take a chance?
Do restrictions hold you back? Do you climb the fence?
First day, we hope for an easy pass. We’ve been hoping ever since
We get caught and bs-on-the-spot. Ain’t got time to plan in advance

You don’t walk into class and hustle
You don’t say something in Latin as if you were fighting evil
Do you argue in seminar like you’re in a battle?
Or declaim and take everyone to another level?
Do you wear a tie knowing you came from the ghetto?
Do you get hungry in class and eat cereal?
You don’t know.

We wake up expecting struggle
But walk down graham and smile when others say hello
We think it’s bad…badder than the devil
But this is TBLS so, are you going to lose or win this war like a pro?