Carving You Be Like… (part 3)

Tags

creativewriting, culture, lacultura, poem, poetry, poetrycommunity, spanishculture, writing, writingcommunity

Consuming you be like…
“¿¿¿CÓMO ESTÁÁÁSSS???”
And you know I’m here,
They know we’re here.
 
Your existence in the North,
My joking through the South
Our energy creates a balance. An importance that never misses out
Although, they all miss, when out.
 
There’s a unique experience we carry
That’s exclaimed into forms of incomprehensible beauty and art.
If you haven’t been through it,
You wouldn’t know.
If you haven’t traveled in-between worlds to exist in the between of worlds,
You can’t quite comprehend the existence of our Universe.
 
Consuming you be like
I could reach out and touch you:
Something delicate, yet not fragile.
 
Not too agile, but what’s a good story without Scars?
So, dime. Cómo estás?
Cuéntame tu historia

@sircharlesthepoet

Shoes

Tags

art, culture, hiphop, poem, poetry, racism, shoes, wordplay, write, writing

You speak shame of my shoes
Criticize its components and origins
Yet
You have not walked an inch in em’

Have you worn my skin?
Have you beat under the sun in them?
You shun upon my life for
The struggles you’ve cursed me in
Yet you wear my golds and diamonds,
Treasures
With pride. Mimicking my lustrous hide

Have you what it takes to tie my laces?
Tap along with my dances.
Have you trumpets blasting
The fascinations of a great culture
In your voice?

Do you carry rainbows at your fingertips
To bless each person you meet
With sunshine that never sleeps
From the Motherland?

By which right in this world
Do you take a whiff of my goods
Then claim it as yours?
What fuels your hate?
Are you embarrassed by how I zig
When you expect me to zag?

You think you’re so big
But right along greatness I will tag

Until your tics
Stop forging my tocs
And block my timeless shine,
I will rise with pride!
On currents,
On tempests,
With halos crowning my pupils
And fire to fill my relentlessness.

So no, Kendrick Lamar, I am not gonna be alright!
These chameleons wear my skin,
My hair, my vibes…my culture.
Then get praises

While I,
I get oppressed for wearing my skin,
My hair, my energy, my culture
And commuting with elegance
In my shoes.

@Sircharlesthepoet

Shoes (Video)

Tags

art, cultural appropriation, culture, performance, poem, poetry, race, race war, video

 

Hello everyone!

I hope you are all well and safe. I wanted to let you all know about a video that I’ve just uploaded on my YouTube Channel. In that video (above), I am performing one of my poems titled, “Shoes”. This poem is a poem that I wrote about cultural appropriation.

I was browsing the internet, and I came across a video where they showed a series of white people bashing black people who chose to keep their hair in dreadlocks. They were saying that it is ugly, dirty, etc. After proceeding to keep scrolling down my feed, I came across another video. That video showed white female models walking down a runway with their hair in dreadlocks as the audience praised their look. The video also showed the audience members giving high compliments to the models for their hair, when they were interviewed after the show.

After seeing these two videos back-to-back, I was furious. I was enraged at the fact that when black do what we want, we get criticized. Yet, when white people copy the same thing, it’s “beautiful” and “inventive”. I hate that. So I wrote this poem in response to it. Thank you for watching!

@Sircharlesthepoet

Foreign Soil

Tags

art, creativewriting, culture, foreigner, poem, poet, poetry, write

The other day, I talked to a lady who is from Haiti.

Being Haitian in foreign land, we shared what glued us together.
She told me I left my country too early. So I don’t know anything

I feel cheated each time I remember
She’s right.

Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’ve given up my country for foreign soil
But, how can I lose something that I never had?

---

Lately, I’ve been struggling and trying to, once again, have a firm grip on my culture–starting with the language. So I’ve been listening to a lot of Haitian music and reaching out to friends and family back in Haiti to practice my Creole. The language has changed a lot, but the worst part is I’ll never know how much it has changed because I was only 11 when I left the country. It’s mighty young and I was pretty oblivious to most.

If any of you are into learning about cultures or are multilingual, you would understand that learning a language is not just about learning grammar rules. It goes as far as having knowledge of the culture, to learn the language. In Haitian Creole, very strong emphasis is put on knowing the culture to fully get the language.

At 11 years old, I barely knew the culture. Yeah, I spoke the language–as far as what was required of me is concerned–and I had lived in the country for 11 years, but as you get older, more sophisticated thoughts and eloquence are required. And I will argue that it’s only then you really get a language.

After being in the states, scrambling to figure out this lifestyle and fit in, for the past 11 years, sometimes it feels like I’m losing my culture. Starting with the language.

Domino Pieces (Part 3)

Tags

culturaldelight, culture, Haiti, nostalgia, opportunity, poem, poetry, Privilege, write, writing

It seems
These Haitians crossed the sea,
Yet, still held Home
Fortified in their hearts.
A power pressing the uncultured,
One to threaten the Big who live in chapels
Of sweatless opportunity,
Baby-born privilege.

Domino Pieces (part one)

Tags

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

One Swipe

Tags

big apple, city, culture, life style, NYC, poem, Poetic, poetry, rhythm, train, Words, write, writer

Legend has it:

When a New Yorker’s phone dies

And they seek to find

“My way back home”,
They kiss their ears with the sun-kissed pavement;

Concrete sidewalk,

And let their soul connect to the undergrounds:

The rushing, swivel

Tunnel.

Fetch for distinct sounds of 

Rumbling; Tumbling

Awakening,

Belonging; Life.
Follow all that noise–

A screetch known to be cultural

To the nearest train station.
In NYC, every train points Home.

Yum Yum (poem)

Tags

cultural, culturaldelight, culture, Delicious, digest, empanadas, Food, jollofrice, poem, poetry, writings

No poetry upon request,
But this time, I really cannot digest!
Jerk chicken, black rice, empanadas with some zest
Oh! I don’t think there’s enough space for the rest!

No better way to experience a culture
Than to engulf yourself in its food.
Flying fish and griot; perfect for your leisure
Swallow fast cause they’re too good

Awww moma! I think I’ll marry samosa
My stomach is a bottomless pit
And Indian food is looking like a perfect fit,
Though ages in the bathroom won’t be lit!

My wisdom is hidden in a cookie
A little sweet but none like a smoothie
Con, “pizza, pizza!” from Italia to Little Caesar’s!
Oh, fighting for food freshens frequent scars

I don’t like spicy…
But I’ll bury my taste buds in Jollof rice.
Feel it in my veins as Mama Africa dances
She contains the most beauty.

Copyright © 2017 by, Charles Joseph Augustin

Wants

Tags

artist, beauty, creative, culture, curious, Dance, dream, foreign, friendship, imagination, literature, love, poem

They wanted to be wise,
So we started reading books

They wanted to dance,
So we bought Michael Jackson shoes

They wanted power over literature,
So we wrote poetry

They wanted to be smart,
So we downloaded chess on our phones

They wanted to be open minded,
So our group of friends consisted of people from all around the world

They wanted warmth in their heart,
So we looked for love

They wanted to experience wonder,
So at the wake of moon, we creep at the stars

They wanted revelations to the mysteries of existence,
So we read verses, and paid attention in physics class

They wanted to touch the sky,
So we bounce off of our beds, reaching, hopefully, pass roofs

They wanted to travel the world,
So we fell asleep and dreamt.
Copyright © 2016 by Charles Joseph Augustin