Musings by Treasure Gibson...

Musings by Treasure Gibson is a collection of thoughts, musings, moods and feelings the author has experienced. I enjoy reading things that I can relate to and this was one of those reads. The poems are about love, strength, power, heroism, vices, and deception mixed with wit, humor and pictures introducing a new idea. The pictures add to the images already formed in each reader's mind by the words the author writes. The pictures bring the words alive!

One of my favorites is, "Who the Hell is 'She'?" This embodies exactly who every woman is to everyone they interact with. A woman is everything to everyone at all times. A woman spends her day catering to the needs of everyone neglecting her own needs and desires. The list of a woman's needs are written below the needs of her family, boss, neighbors and friends. The author describes everything that a woman is forgetting to mention "tired!" Tired, in my opinion, is exactly what most of us are.

The ideas this author shares are vivid and I would love to read them in greeting cards. This book was well done and quite enjoyable. I anticipate the release of this book and hopefully the author will write another one. This book is a great holiday, birthday or "just because" gift and should be laying out in your home on the table for your guests to read.

Thought-provoking poetry...

I must say that this collection of poetry, although the title of the book is deceiving, is more than a collection of verse. It is a book reflecting a journey where you feel as if you have taken part in that journey with the author. The poetry is vivid and filled with emotion with Ms. Earsman splashing history throughout. The author’s work stems directly from her heart into yours making it quite fulfilling. Ms. Earsman’s poetry is extremely thought provoking and edifying.

Two of my favorite poems are “Barry” and “Harbor.” They are as equally as vivid as the other poems but there are a few lines in each that provoked a lot of thought related to our society today. The final lines of “Barry” suggest that Barry’s behavior is making him miss out on a lot of things. My thoughts went directly to the behaviors of the children or youth in our society today. They are often encouraged to modify their negative behaviors so they could reap the rewards of positive behavior. I often wonder if “they” realize what they are missing out on in life while they are wasting time getting in trouble at school or in the community with violence and drugs.

In “Harbor,” Ms. Earsman clearly paints a picture of what you see and feel at the harbor. The final line of the poem makes reference to all people having to face a day of judgment despite what life we have led. I feel that that is a profound statement. It is something that is very real and in the end makes us all equal despite our social class or ethnic or racial background.

I haven’t read any of Ms. Earsman’s other poetry but this book has encouraged me to do just that. If you are a lover of poetry, history, and God, this book is for you.

Inspiring poetry...

Angel's Destiny
Author/publisher: April Martin Chartrand
Published: 2009
ISBN: 9780615302515
Pages: 150

This book is a collection of poems, prose and illustrations. It is a clear reflection of the author’s journey through domestic violence. Ms. Chartrand suffered domestic violence but came out standing tall. She is not living her life as a victim and has told her story through poems to encourage others who may be experiencing painful events similar to hers.

The poems tell the story of someone in the midst of a struggle but it also shows one’s journey from extreme fear and darkness to freedom and self-love. When experiencing abuse, one struggles as they experience a range of emotions—fear, anger, self-hate, sadness. The poems delve deep into the inner soul as does the abuse. Domestic violence breaks down the individual and their soul, resulting sometimes in self-hate. In this book we see where the author’s journey begins as well as the moment self-love emerges as she pulls herself out of the torturous experience. The emergence of self-love allows her to break free from the violence and become an ambassador to those whose voices have become silenced from fear and abuse. She has become an inspiration to all.

The writer’s courage is witnessed throughout as each poem and picture emerges. Ms. Chartrand has turned her experiences into something positive and her voice without fear can be heard clearly. I highly recommend this book to anyone searching for their voice and strength. Ms. Chartrand’s art and poetry speak to the heart and it will provide the extra “push” readers may need to take the first step toward self-love and freedom.

My try at Spoken Word...

One day I was home watching teens in an international Spoken Word competition. I had never heard a competition but as the chills rolled down my arms listening to the poems they had composed, I was mesmerized. Immediately thinking, that I would love to be able to do what they were doing. I've written poetry for as long as I can remember but I had never done something as moving as this. I wanted to be a part of it but placed this thought somewhere in the back of my mind.

One morning I was up writing and some words pursed my lips begging me to pay attention to them. I did and what followed was my chance to express what I truly felt inside. My chance at Spoken Word...

I always respond to the ignorance of others and become angry when I'm not judge as an individual. Being a female and black are components of who I am which make up my whole being. However, I am not exactly the same as any other woman, black woman or black person. I am an individual and want to be judge by what I do, not by the actions of another. Remember it flows like spoken word which is why there are commas and such in certain spots. I want you to feel what I am saying. Don't judge me by the actions of my brother...


Don't Judge Me...


Don’t judge me by the actions of my brother
There’s no guarantee we even have the same mother,
Our skin may be the same shade or even a little lighter,
Just ‘cause it’s a shade of brown, don’t make him mine.

I’m a visionary, a dreamer, an aspiring writer
Don’t judge me by the actions of my brother.
He’s never worked or even paused once to care
Pants below his waistline coupled with unkempt hair
His dress designed without an ounce of flair.
Me, myself, I spend hours in front of a mirror
Preparing for a crisp presentation
He has never seen his own discarded reflection.
Never cared enough to peek
What is it exactly that he seeks?

Don’t judge me by the actions of my brother
We may not even have the same mother
He shines a wide grin trying to render you clueless
Strategic planning bringing you closer to him,
Figuring out exactly when your hurt shall begin.
No two words aligned in truth as he looks through you
Making every effort to lessen your value.

I walk the streets composed and erect in a straight line
Him, he has never taken a stride similar to mine.
I may know him personally or as a distant observer
I just know, that he ain’t hardly my brother.
He may be a lighter shade of brown
Or a darker hue than you,
Which, doesn’t make him my brother
Anymore than it makes him kin to you.

I stress and beg you one last time
As if hopelessly stuck on rewind--
Don’t judge me by the actions of my brother
I don’t know him and desire no introduction
I’m much more intellectual and free, than he.
When you see me judge me by my whisper,
Not his loud ferocious roar—
Spewing obscenities and profanity
His words not mine by choice.
Honesty and truth, isn’t that how you want me
To judge you?

My character and willingness to be real
Is more than you expected me to feel
Not giving me a clear cut chance
Judging me by his dreadful circumstance.
Before you form an opinion of another
Pause…
Exhale…
But please, don’t judge me by the actions of my brother
I can guarantee we don’t have the same mother.

What we share is similar visual characteristics—
But our inner being is less common than you’ve assumed
Your ignorance like an old death should be exhumed
Removed from my existence modify your thinking.
When you judge me, open your eyes looking beyond my complexion—
And by chance you will glance into who I am and for the first time… see me.
Don’t judge me by the actions of my brother
I am not him but a separate being, please, look into my eyes--
It is only then that I can actually be seen.


©2010 by Stacey L. Pierce
©2010 by 2sistaspublishing