Four Poems Excerpted from Guyleigh Johnson’s expect the unexpected: Voices from the North End
Pointing One Finger Three Point Back Life’s lessons can sometimes be heartbreaking To lose someone so close to home is life taking Never mistaking the love you held for them Just the sadness you hold on to A shootout on his aunt’s step Is where he took his last breath A community lost for words Shocked, saddened, and surprised What hurt the most is to look into the kids’ eyes Two young men driving Struck by a drunk driver And guess who was the survivor? A fight in a basement That ended up being a life misplacing ’Cause by the end of the night Without right Someone’s life was taken This is just the beginning of the tragedies To most of us a memory is all we have to carry Bodies buried Families grieving And still we’re convinced the solution is leaving A community lost Elders confused And children running wild So many people sit back and talk about how they talk back, but did we forget who taught that? Don’t forget we are a product of our producers. If this generation is failing, it is because along the way somebody failed us. Did you ever stop and think maybe we don’t need to be talked about, but talked with? Communication As a community we need to communicate. Nine times out of ten, people in the streets have more impact on your children than you. Who a child spends the most time with, they gain trust, respect, and admiration for. Everything that person says and does is like gold to them, so just imagine what it would be like if we had more people in the streets trying to take you out of the streets rather than keep you there. The only way to go is up, but if you have no one to show you, and they had no one to show them, the only direction you’re all going to go is down. Until someone comes along willing to help you come up … Trapped in Trouble Locked in a cell boxed in I can’t wait to be boxed out Locked up I can’t wait to be locked out A criminal to society a criminal in the system Listen, they treat me no different Same routine same block same cell Imprisoned in prison they call this jail I understand my mistakes and mishappenings But ya’ll don’t understand what’s happening In the streets you’re either street or you take heat Better grab that heat Or grab a seat There’s no such thing as safety I grew up on Lahey Where boys tried to play me daily And when there’s nobody to teach you right all you know is wrong Half of the boys I grew up with are dead and gone Same thing in jail it’s like living in hell Because there’s no one here to understand me My situation or where I’m coming from Only the inmates that are just like me to find someone willing to do right is unlikely If you don’t rehabilitate me in here, how do you expect me to get out as a civilized citizen? Let’s be real I came here not knowing who I really was; in here I still didn’t find myself I’m going back out there only to become another person that I don’t even know And you wonder why I can’t cope in the end I’ll go back to selling dope For the simple reason that for a young brother like me Coming up going in and getting out There’s just no hope Lotus Flower I am the significance to your heart Never falling apart I connect with your mind With both combined My soul bleeds your purity My mind craves your growth I emerge from the depths of dirt far from hurt I bloom Into a beauty unimaginable Almost impossible flower Though the soil I came from is in the slaying of a swamp Still I rise, I rise Into a soul that streams a great significance of spreading Strength spiritually The lotus flower I am The dirty seed I used to be Doesn’t define me What defines me is the state I’m in after Surviving the struggle It’s not where you come from It’s where you end up Some of the ugliest places create the prettiest people from the inside out
expect the unexpected
by Guyleigh Johnson
Pottersfield Press
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