Faithless

He disbelieves

Body rebelling from risky deeds;

he won’t admit faith,

for then he’ll have to face

His indiscretions.

There is no question

that he gave up grace

for a taste of worldly pleasures

But the measure

of our worth isn’t inverse

to the extent we’ve sinned.

We just need to begin

to submit to God’s will.

Still, he stands aside in shame.

Like rocks toward glass houses

he casts blame;

Drinks away his pain

and the anger eats him up.

Come drink from the cup

of faithfulness and love;

and pray to God

whether inside or above

It really doesn’t matter,

as long as we gather

together in his name.

Together we can tame

temptation and subdue lust

But in this you can trust;

We are imperfect people

With potential for perfection.

We will sometimes fail.

It is the direction

we establish;

Our love and compassion,

the faith during strife,

that determines

the value of our life.

-Adeke Rose

-Faithless is featured in She Walks In Faith...

Juvenile to Juvenile

I came from the courtroom when the Master set you free.

You didn’t see me;

but I heard you tell

the boy in the next cell

“Man she’s really nice, but she won’t tell you twice

If you don’t fly straight she will lock the jail gates

behind you”.

You will never know how much I hate

seeing black boys locked up

Testing fate

Thinking this country is willing to wait

for them to “learn their lesson”.

Don’t you know the progression from

Drop out to

Thrown out to

Locked up to

Poverty rut to

Death

is clear.

And it is my fear

If you don’t hear

these words of guidance

drugs and guns will leave you silent

permanently.

There is so much more you can be.

So I patiently walk these project streets faithfully

being probation officer, mother, father so you can see

It’s worth it if it keeps you free

and full of promise.

I’m trying to save your life;

because death won’t come twice.

If the only way to insure you survive

is to stand firm and not let you slide,

to teach you to stand, walk and dress with pride.

I will endure hate and rape while bullets fly

around me;

If that’s what it takes

So that you grow and thrive.

So be it until you come alive

from hope’s death

and delusional pride.

-Adeke Rose

-Juvenile to Juvenile is featured in She Walks In Faith...

Wingless Bird

Don’t think me absurd

But I’m feeling like a wingless bird.

Watching other birds in flight

Soaring through the skies

Day and night;

While I perch tottering on a branch

Praying for another chance

To fly.

It would be a lie

To say that I never cry

For the days when I had wings

Would zoom through the air

And sing.

But tears dry

And everyone in the sky

Must come down to rest

Even the best

Must sometimes take some time

To unwind.

To be kind

I can feather my nest

And share what’s mine.

I may no longer fly in the air

But I can still show I care;

Give what I have while it’s still there.

Even if I never again take flight

I know showing God’s love

Is always right.

-Adeke Rose

-Wingless Bird is featured in She Walks In Faith...

Read the 2 Pens & Lint Interview with Adeke Rose

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On Healing Hands

Your hands

Like cool water

Trickle down my rigid form

My muscles tighten in anticipation

And release in appreciation

of your tender touch.

For me, touch was a rabid dog

And intimacy a raging fire.

Your soft voice

guided me through the anguish

of my private hell.

Your healing hands

turned stone appendages

into loose, feeling limbs.

I close my eyes

And I can feel

The wholeness.

-Adeke Rose

-On Healing Hands is featured in Autobiography of a Rose.

Pursuit

I halt my pursuit,

And in our endless dance

We meet; shall I follow?

Shall I detach?

Merge into my arms

and we shall bloom like flowers.

Our tender dance

leaves me flush and hopeful.

Our tentative waltz

leaves me fearful and wilted.

I spin away,

Our touch has been broken.

Will you follow?

Will you detach? You leave,

And in this endless dance

I start my pursuit.

-Adeke Rose

-On Healing Hands is featured in Autobiography of a Rose.

Autobiography of a Rose

Yes, I started out a “debutante”

With “curly hair”

(straightened bi-weekly with very little grease)

Sitting in my parent’s split foyer

Admiring plastic flowers

And feeling rather artificial myself

Then I became an “African”

With nappy hair and dashikis

Listening to sounds from the Caribbean

while banging on wooden drums.

I became Adeke’ Rose;

But middle class America

Wasn’t having any of that,

Neither was Daddy;

And the roses were cut down.

So, I put away my drums,

Placed a permanent on my hair

Slapped on make-up and high heels

And tried to be chic

…and the roses kept dying

Because they couldn’t breathe.

Then the high heels broke

Pimples covered my face

And splits got higher…

And the roses kept dying

Because it was getting cold.

Then a brother helped me

To find my truth, and a sister

Was an example of true beauty

And the sister was an example of real womanhood

…and the roses grew new buds

So I washed my face

And lowered my dresses

And bowed my head.

Then God smiled down

And the roses started blooming

And the roses kept on blooming

And the roses kept on blooming.

-Adeke Rose

-On Healing Hands is featured in Autobiography of a Rose.

For Cornell Gilmore (dedicated to my son Emmy and the Gilmore family)

It has been said

To ”fight the good fight”

But is it right

That your widow’s

crying in the night

and your children denied

forever the sight

of your beautiful smile?

For a while

It seemed out of style

To say war is wrong

But you’re still gone

From our life.

This poem is for your wife.

We honor your tremendous sacrifice.

In the sunlight

We feel your warmth

And know your fight

Was not in vain

Yet we still feel the pain

Of missing you;

So this is a poem for you

For all the things you did and didn’t do.

This poem says goodbye

Our tears are finally dry,

But when the day is new

I feel you in the dew

Hear your laughter

In the echo of the birds.

It may seem absurd,

But I sense you everywhere.

We feel how much you cared

So this is a poem for me;

Though war brings misery

I can finally see

This was your destiny.

-Adeke Rose

-On Healing Hands is featured in Autobiography of a Rose.

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