Happy July 26th!

© Musue N. Haddad

Hip, hip, it’s July 26!
So I say to all of you,
White, blue collar workers
Farmers, layman, laborers
Our friends, families
And compatriots, I say
Happy Independence Day!
On this special day
Come together as one
Keep alive our dreams
Work as a great team
My people, your people
From Mount Wuteve
To the Putu Range
Along the coastal plains
Near mangroves and swamps
And deep in the rainforest
Come together as one
And let’s celebrate
Our day, the Liberian way
Salsa, drums beats, aloud
Kick our feet in the dust
Boogie the sun down
Shake it way, way down
Blow up firecrackers.
Light up the Liberian sky
It’s Independence Day.
Let the Lone Star fly high
We’re all one people

Copyright © Musue N. Haddad

This Child, Under the Clouds

© Musue N. Haddad

This child’s face sometimes black
White, yellow, chocolate brown
Sun’s ray always bright
In those eyes, dazzling bright
Everyday story of a little boy
True story of a boy once bright
Unfolding, but with fright
Boy whose birth was celebrated
Face once shone with joy, lighted
Now gravely dampened, clouded
Innocence like my child, and yours
Like every child, this little boy
Born with greatness; a genius
The truth we know
Way of living steals the geniuses
Smiling, pure angelic face
Like my own child, precious
And the child you adored
Then one day, devotion faded
Love slowly withered, cheerless
Mommy stopped listening
“Mommy, Daddy,” this child called
Again and again, over again
His own childlike voice came back
At four years, little child threw a fit
Kicked, screamed, called out louder
Still, Mommy and Daddy didn’t hear
Too busy, distant to their little boy
They cured little boy, not with hugs
Pressed down his tiny throat
Prescribed Anti Psychotic drugs
Volumes, infused in his body system
Now, he’s nine years old; controlled
Handsome, but eyes dull, dreary
Mind blank, bare and stultified
Creativity destroyed, glass-eyed
“Mommy, Mommy,” Daddy, Daddy”
Wordless cries ignored, always
Little boy sobbed as the drugs travels
Down his tiny throat, he wriggles
Slithered through his esophagus
In his stomach, twirled, rock around
Drugs soften; then slowly liquefied
Passed on into blood, circulates
Bubbles into brain, body system
Hear the pounding, crushing sounds
Demise of potentials, dreams shattered
And this innocent boy sits alive
Yet stone dead to this world
Pasty from anti psychotic drugs
One more innocent life crudely robbed
Now a drug-ladened rag doll
Powerful smashing of love in the vein
Tears of shattering dreams
The deep roots of absurd pains
And the trails of tears remain
In the skies of the universe
This child’s path marked by darkness
He lingered his days under the sky
This boy’s dream, another shattered!
And another love lost
Silent tears falling on my heart
For this child under the clouds

Author’s note: Special thanks to Mrs. Justy Blackwell-Satterthwaite, and Latrell Leonard for their listening ears during the composition of this poem.




Copyright © Musue N. Haddad

My Master

© Musue N. Haddad

My dear Master,
Authority of my life
My one loving master
You’re always by my side
As I walk, run, and stride
Or stop in awe at roadside
And then on a ride

My dear Master
You are the highest
Only authority in my life
Peace, joy in my life
And your grace upon me
Thank you my dear master
For you’re the Holiest

My dear Master
The lover of my soul
My provider and Banner
Here I stand for console
Wisdom and your strength
My fears, doubts, the loophole
The things I fear, you control

My dear Master
Keep my spirit, my mind anew
Protect my child; your arms enfolds
As he grows, his youth unfolds
Light his path always,
Kindle him with your faith,
Give him wisdom, your love always

Copyright © Musue N. Haddad

Exposed!

© Musue N. Haddad

Hey you, you Monitors!
Vile mephistophelean Monitors.
Proudly engage in ghoulish activities
Months, days, years, oh yes
Clumsily diligent for too long
Or awkwardly, boldly deficient?
For what purpose?
With pride, you diligently throng
Devious actions, behaviors fervent
But I tell you,
Yesterday marked your end,
You’re permanently exposed!
Your vulnerability and termination
Malveillant works, hosts, deposed
So are your âmedamnées, and cronies
Deceptive, imposing, inferior
Destructive, baleful activities
Your mystery, cycle and mechanism
Projections and soullish desires
Shattered, ended, finished, kapoot!
By the Utmost, Superior authority
We revoke and negate your works
You're stripped of influence, power
Desensitized, permanently disorganized
All malicious weapons destroyed
And reversal of your works, activities
Restoration and restitution are ours
We’re free, oh yes
Flawlessly released from you, yours
Spotless, empowered, radiating
Delightful peace, blissfully breezing
In every dimensions of our lives

Copyright © Musue N. Haddad
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Love is Positive

© Musue N. Haddad

Woke up this morning,
Walked down the streets;
Afterward, juggled down the bystreets
Then saw you at the corner
Faced torn, in tears, blinking
I halted, we talked for an hour
Between sobs you said, “Now I know.”
Wrapped my arms around you
You gently murmured and wept
“I thought we had something special”
“But it’s not me he sought,”
Your fragile body shivered,”
Made my body shuddered,
Followed by your whisper,
“Not me, not me in his thoughts,
When we talked and laughed;
His utterances of love, assurance;
That filled my heart, my mind;
Were all illusory, lies
I gave him love, endless supply,
But not me in his thoughts,
Not me in his dreams, his bethought,
Oh, I gave him all; heart, thoughts, love
And love the emotion I’d feel
But for him, I was not enough.
In his eyes,
I was a frivolous, trifling slough,
Protective, yet weakened by love
I wish, I wish”… you fumbled for words
“Wish I could change my name to hers
So he never call me hers
Then he’ll adore and call me always
But I love my own name
It’s unique, time-honored, and not trendy
Or if I had the eyes of the other girl
He will look deep into mine always
But I love to see with my own eyes
Perhaps, if I had the hair of the next one
He says her hair flows and is golden
I will let it down for him, all loosen
But I love my own hair, naturally dark
If my laughter was like the next girl
Which he says is like the sound of music
He’ll stay in my embrace; delight in it
Still, I like to say “I Love You” with my voice.
I know now, its not me he sought.”
The promises of respect, he made
To treasure my love, value me as I am
Said I gave him hope, brighten his heart
But now I know
It was not me, never me he sought;”
It was then I softly interjected,
“Listen honey”
Our eyes met and I said,
"I speak as a sister and friend"
“You’re wondering what he sees in them
That you don’t have my dear
So here you cry a river of tears
And may have cried too many times
Been on an emotional upheaval
Loved someone who didn't care a dime
Sweet words; all deceiving, mistimed
You’re beautiful, and all loving
Stunning eyes, filled with affection
A name that honors your being
Your face holds warm smiles, tenderness
Maybe,
It’s not you in his thoughts,
But for all the time you loved him,
Respected, adored him, so freely
Only to be betrayed, heart shattered
Even so your love radiates, fills the universe
It mirrors in the sun rays as the morning rises
Felt by others who’ll be nourished by it.”
As I spoke softly, words of hope
I saw your face; a smile lit your face,
You mumbled,
“Gave him my best,
And then added,
“Love doesn’t come from stone”.
And I responded,
But love is positive; the ambiance is good.”


Copyright © Musue N. Haddad

A Sister's Reflection

© Deanna White

39111014

CRASH
SLAM
(Damn wish these walls were thicker)
I listen
My stomach
Getting Sicker
Handcuffs
CLICK
All I can do
Sit

You stare
“Fuck you”
Your lips say
With a “help me” glare

Eyes closed
Tears
Goodbye little brother
See you next year



You used to be little

Remember
Watching Grease
Doing the hand jive
Making a secret handshake

Remember
At my sleepovers
Running away
When we tried to put make-up on you

Remember
Giving your friends
All the popsicles
And mommy got mad
Handshakes turned to gang signs
Running from police instead of girls
Popsicles turned to weed

Kids grow up so fast…


The aftermath

Finally
I could face it
The mess upstairs
Why’d you fight them?
Tried to jump out of the window
I shut it
Tried to close the door
Broken
Walk two feet

My room
Assess the damage
Toddler bed
Bent
Favorite chair
Broken
Legos
Spilled
Outline a body
Window
Open
I shut it
Walk back out the door

Maybe tomorrow…




Overview by Mother: Ms. W.C White.
During the summer of 2008 my 13 year old son was arrested for a serious, yet first offence. Nearly three years later, while still in the system, he ran away from yet another community placement. This time he was adamant about not going back saying “ I’m tired of the meetings, going to the doctor’s, the medication’s not helping, nothing is helping and Mr. B. uses any little excuse to take away my weekends (at home)!”

My son had numerous evaluations conducted (ordered by two different judges and from the core care agency I found) which all concluded that he was a very intelligent young man who had classic ADHD. Only after he was apprehended this time did we find that the medication (Risperdal) he had been taking for the past six months was not the proper medication for his diagnosis. Which meant that during their attempt to “rehabilitate” him, his ADHD was never properly treated.

Coming home either very late at night or very early in the morning he eluded authorities for about two weeks. On March 9, 2011 I was getting on the bus to go to school when I saw him approach our home. My daughter had not left for school yet so I called her to let her know that [in order to avoid further conflict with the law] I would be calling the abscondance unit to come pick him up. They did, and what preceeds are the reflections of his nineteen year old sister having witnessed her brother being dragged from his home: the only place he’d ever felt safe.

He took some of his anger out on her for answering the door when they came (my fault). She was not able to go to school after they left…because of what happened at 10:14 that morning.

Sing My Victory Song

© Musue N. Haddad

Did tell you ‘Medianites,’
I’d leave, abandon,
My hiding place;
That time has come;
I’ve left the hiding place;
Armored with His courage,
Here I stand;
In full glare,
Hence, you will listen,
I say it with His faith,
“Enough is enough;”
In Polish, it's emphasized;
“Jest wystarczająco gnough,”
The French says, c'est assez,
And Swahili, it is "inatosha,"
So listen ‘Medianites;’
You can’t intimidate me;
So, you better run, hide,
Or reckon with Him in me,
Know, I’m here to stay,
To enforce and celebrate,
His endless Victory for me,
You've always known,
I may be "barley bread,”
Known also as ‘queso de soja,’
Or simply as "korn bröd,"
Sometimes viewed as worn thread,
To your power of darkness,
But you’ve known no rest;
Always breathless, abscessed;
Mindful of my strength,
And your catastrophic defeat,
It’s my season Medianites;
Watch his rippling approval,
My new beautiful start,
Puts a song in my heart,
My greatest comfort,
You, a resolute pervert
His limitless favor, wholesome grace,
Wash my doubts, fears, tears,
Enduring love and sacrifice,
Take control of your powers,
And fans the flames of his influence,
His mighty presence and grace,
A chorus, always in my heart,
Fires up my year of Victory,
So, I raise my voice,
Blow my trumpet,
Sing my Victory song
Ha, ha, ha,
My Supernatural Victory!

This poem was drafted while listening to my Bishop sermon on Gideon, and the need to claim, and embrace our Supernatural Victory.

Copyright © Musue N. Haddad