Just Jasmyne: One September Day.

Hey everybody,
So I wrote this poem in Spanish class, of course. Lol. I decided to try something new on the teaching of my Creative Writing-Poetry professor. He was explaining the other day that a reader does not necessarily care about emotions, but the cause of it. Usually I write poems and my emotions or evident, not necessarily the cause of them, though. Also, he was explaining about rhymes and how it is only best to have concrete rhymes, if you are going to have any at all. The reason being is because rhymes about abstract things seems forced. So here goes, personally I don't like it, but let me know what you all think about it. With love.


One September Day


The storms had passed into the earliest of noon
My thoughts went rampant as I watched the last shower of rain trickle down and disappear into the grass.
The sun made its appearance
almost a millisecond after the rain had quenched the thirst of the Earth.


All was restored.


The rain no longer existed.
There was no reminder of the storms that had just passed.


Except...


My constant thoughts reminding me of the love that I lost from you
because of the storms that we could not weather
but unlike the rain, my tears did not disappear into a bed of grass.


It invaded the internal
staining and trickling to every aspect that reminds me of you.
The sun has not shown up yet to erase the existence of your love.


On this September day,
I found a small trace of rain in the heart of the grass
waiting for the sun to shine.
                                                                     --Jasmyne K. Rogers

We Made History- First GSU Football Game

Georgia State University's First Football Game!

Our first football game in Georgia State University's history on September 2, 2010 at the Georgia Dome. We won against Shorter, Alabama. Score-41-7. Let's Go Panthers!!! =)

Remembering September 11, 2001

Hey everybody,
I'm taking this time now to remember September 11, 2001. It will never be forgotten-the day America cried. I wrote this poem four years ago to pay homage to the victims and heroes of the 9-11 attack. 

The Day that America Cried

 

We stood tall

No one in the world could

believe, imagine,

the planes crashing

our fall.

 

O, how it took a toll

on our hearts,

our country's soul

when we had to face

that our strength

was actually our weakness

when the terrorists took control.

 

Two airlines simultaneously

crashed into the Twin Towers

our world devoured

so cowardly

within the silence of two hours.

 

Our power was no longer reserved, our own

as al-Qaeda crashed another plane

into the Pentagon.

 

Our world was shaken

The buildings were replaced

but not the 2.973 lives

that were taken.

 

We remain

unhealed

fragmented

and shattered

over this unexpected disaster.

 

But here we stand,

with determination in our hearts

and tears in our eyes.

 

We will always remember September 11, 2001

the day that America cried.

Just Jasmyne: Intro.

Hey everybody,
Okay...so I'm gonna let you guys in on a little secret of mines. I am "fascinated" with a dude that can play the guitar or any other instrument so smoothly. That's maybe why I love Prince as an artist. This poem is actually written from a personal experience. Again, don't judge me too badly. Lol. I almost forgot, I wrote this many moons and kisses ago on  March 29, 2009.With love.


Intro.
There he stood,
calm, cool, collected,
and here I sat,
admiring his complex
expression.
His selection,
was a 
reflection
of me.
The soul, the intensity, the rhythm,
that is to call
his melody.
He meddled me,
told my story,
full of passion,
through his fingers,
stealing my
satisfaction.
His musical distraction
became
my attraction.
My heartbeat danced to the 
rhythm of his beat.
Amazed.
He walked off stage,
and took a piece of my heart,
just by the plucking,
the strings of his guitar.
Intro.


--Jasmyne K. Rogers

Just Jasmyne: Whenever. Wherever. Whatever.

Hey everybody,
Okay so this poem was inspired by Maxwell. Yes, I borrowed the title of his song. Lol. That is usually what I do in my poetry. I use the title of a song that I adore and write to it. That's why my poetry seems more like lyrics to me-but anywho, I hope you enjoy it. With love.


Whenever. Wherever. Whatever.
My heart still beats to the rhythm of the music we once shared,
the tempo is gone but the lyrics are still there.
As I attend each day unaware,
that your presence is no longer visible to my eye,
my cry is no longer audible to your heart,
and my mind no longer remembers,
the day, the time, the reason, the moment.
We first grew apart.
But every part of me,
yearns for your love,
unconsciously.

The coldest part of me,
yearns for the warmth of your arms,
the calm of your voice,
that can pacify all storms.

The most fragile part of me,
yearns for the strongest connection,
that purges all objection.

I manage to continue through each day thinking,
that my life has meaning
without the definition of you.
What is it to be true?
When I'm obliviously living a lie,
believing that I can attempt a day without your smile, laughter, or the simplest of a reply.

I've slipped so deep into my denial to avoid facing,
living without you.
I'm pretending to be complacent,
to avoid a replacement of you.

So there's only one statement left to be true,
No matter,
whenever,
wherever,
whatever,

My heart will yearn for the love in you that you have shared with me.
Bye
Bye
Baby.

Just Jasmyne: An Ode to my FL

Hey everybody!
Once again, thanks so much for taking the time.This poem, almost like an Italian Sonnet, was inspired by my boring Spanish class. Don't judge me. I haven't written a poem in a while so please expect a great deal of emotion to be overflowing in here...but I hope that you don't judge me too badly. Hopefully one day one of you will use this as your wedding vows so I can have my RIGHTFUL place in the Norton Anthology. Lol.Oh yea..I wrote this on September 8, 2010. With Love.




An Ode to my FL
Your love was my teacher
for it taught me beautiful things
It taught me how to smile
how to look at things beyond the surface
surfacing beyond the depths of my own soul.

Your soul was my mate
for it told my own soul
about the beauty of our beings
being composed into one
singing the same song
you were my eternal soulmate
for our heart strings combined
played beautiful music that
only we knew.

Your heart was my lyric
for I danced perfectly to the rhythm of your (heart)beat
It moved me deeper and deeper into my own passion
I still get lost in the memories of it.

My love, my soul, and my heart
are yours forever
because no one on Earth can ever undo
the beautiful things
the beautiful beings
the lyrics that only we can sing...together

I will always yearn for your love
until our souls become one again
because no one on Earth can
prepare or are even aware of
the beautiful song that we have become.
--Jasmyne K. Rogers

Just Jasmyne: College Girl...Gone

Hey everybody!
Once again I'm sharing with you all what is on my heart and in my mind. I wrote this note a while back on December 21, 2009. Being in college, you are able to experience and observe a lot of things. What I have come to find so much is the competitive nature of females and how some of us allow the "college life" to manipulate us rather than take ownership of it. After all, this is our future. Well, here it is. With love. 


College Girl...Gone


The dusts of yesterday intertwines with the winds of today
Polluting the air
Polluting the soul
Beyond her control.
She tiptoes around what the truth beholds.
Scared.
Cold.
She runs far,
in fear that her past may catch up with her heart.
She's a refuge of her being, fleeing from her own destiny.
Eyes wide open
But is too blind to see
The moral of each circumstance
The lesson that is to be shown
Dusty winds blown
Little girl...gone

She walks in seek of appeal
Hair borrowed, face covered, lacks the 'runway' walk in heels.
Wants to feel
So she conceals
Her inner truths
Her inner zeal.
I see her clear
Stripped of her weave, her MAC, her BCBGs,
The confusion of a girl
Being her own enemy.
Pretending to be what she is not intended to be in this world
Just to achieve acceptance
And entertain the presence of
Those she feel could reward her with the blessings of love.
She's just a dove
Wanting to fly
But remaining grounded
Because she's too astounded to the least bit
By the instance of it
Naiveness of her mind
Intertwines her with those who can only confine themselves
To the shallowness of her mind.
Those who possess potential only for invites to the hottest party
Enticing her to drink patron, grey goose, triple,double quadripple, ripple shots of bacardi.
Studing becomes partly yo none, reality becomes unknown.
College girl...gone.

College girl blown
So far into denial
Being a "lady of the given time of day" to those referred to as popular
Is the sole reason of her smile
A smile so fixated
A being so perpetrated
That anyone who intervenes
Is convicted of hating
College girl...fading.


Fading out of her elegance
Into an estimated element
Enslavement to her own self
The entirety of her persona, a cry for help.
A cry for acceptance
A reply of negligence.
I see her clear
As she bombards through the courtyard
In fear that reality may return to her heart
A girl of fear
Straining admittance, refraining existence,no longer here.
College girl...smears, then disappears.

-Jasmyne K. Rogers

Just Jasmyne: The Miseducation of the African American Female

Hey everybody!
Thanks for taking the time out to view my blogspot. I wrote this note on..hold on let me get the date right...August 30, 2010. I was listening to the BEST album of all time-The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (of course) and I was inspired to write...well type this. I'm just inviting you all inside my heart and mind. Well..I hope you come back! =) With love.

What is Mis-Education?

According to the American Heritage of the English Language, miseducation is merely defined as to miseducate, to educate improperly.

The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill:

Lauryn Hill released this album in 1998 and changed my world. This album has been my ultimate favorite because it moves me through the depths of my own passion, lyrically. This album is also my inspiration behind writing this note. It almost felt as if I was compelled to do it. I cannot tell you when the last time I just sat down and physically, freely, wrote, well typed, what is on my mind and in my heart. This album explains what I am trying to convey, more so what I am to be, and that is an African American woman with a VOICE.  This album covers different aspects and areas that affect the African American female: God, love, trust, motherhood, pain, obstacles, and life. In the length of sixteen tracks, Lauryn Hill implicitly explained through her own voice, what it is to be an African American woman, learning things merely through her own experiences and observations. Often times it take us our entire lives to accept our strengths, our weaknesses, and to set ourselves aside from the stereotypes that have been embedded in society as a means of killing ourselves, spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. I acknowledge and reject our stereotypes because I know that they are inferior to the woman that I am destined to be. Our collective identity grants me empowerment, because I know that we are women of courage and amazing strength.

Sometimes people mistaken miseducation for being uneducated. No. Miseducation simply means, in my own terms, teaching ourselves what is being taught or more so in an alternate way that best applies to us. As African American females we are at double odds against achieving our own goals but doesn’t that make it worth so much more? No one can say we are incapable of having successful lives. Our ancestral background is concrete evidence that we endure the worst of pain and obstacles, what makes success any different? I remember reading bits and pieces from Carter G. Woodson’s The Mis-Education of the Negro. It was written in 1933 and explicated in great lengths about the education system’s failure to relate, teach us about our history, our struggles, and our accomplishments.  It amazes me when I look back on our history and how far we have come; our own miseducation shaped us, not to be uneducated but to be SELF-educated.

Hip Hop:

In 1979, The Sugar Hill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight” gave light to the brewing birth of Hip Hop. Finally, we were able to have a voice. Not a voice to degrade or make our African American community feel inferior, but a voice to liberate and to empower. I must have been in love with Hip Hop since I was in my mother’s womb. I love listening to great emcees like Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, KRS-One, Slick Rick, Doug E. Fresh, Tupac, Biggie, and later emcees like Eminem, T.I., and Lil Wayne. I enjoyed the female emcees such as MC Lyte, Queen Latifah and Missy Elliot, who gave a positive voice to the African American woman rather than exploiting us. Nowadays, Hip Hop that I fell in love with is digressing. When Hip Hop hit the mainstream, it became corrupted and people began to forget the initial purpose of Hip-Hop, the voice it had in our community. Misogyny and materialism is overwhelmed in so-called Hip Hop lyrics of today. The African American woman’s voice is muted because up and coming African American girls are accepting the misogyny in these Hip Hop lyrics. They think that it is okay to be referred to as a bitch, hoe, or gold digger. It is a sad truth. I could go on for days about my love and disgust for Hip Hop and its impact on our African American females but just as KRS-One, MC Lyte, and etc. summarily described in “Self-Destruction” we are headed there if we continue to degrade and disgrace our community. Where has our voice gone?

The Mis-Education:

Earlier this year I read, Afeni Shakur: Evolution of a Revolutionary by Jasmine Guy. I knew details of Afeni’s life, being that I am a Hip Hop fanatic, of course I would find out about Tupac and where his strong and controversial lyrics derived from. The book saddened me and marveled me, simultaneously. What amazing strength Afeni has! I swear that woman has been through hell and high waters. Afeni Shakur was a high school drop out, Black Panther, she was pregnant with Tupac when she was awaiting a trial dealing with the historical Black Panther movement, a single mother, and former crack addict.  The book is so powerful and so deep. Afeni was misguided and misunderstood but her miseducation and her tremendous strength is embedded in our history, with her association with the Black Panthers and her being the mother who raised Tupac. A very powerful book and I suggest every African American female should read it!

Okay, so I must have gone off on several tangents. I guess I just get so passionate about our community and our music. I think Dr. Asa Hilliard explained it best in his book, SBA: The Reawakening of the African Mind. We have the vision, we just lack the focus. Our miseducation is our strength, we are able to deal, handle, and teach ourselves in ways that others will never understand.  Others may think of it as being educated improperly but I view it as our education empowerment. Much love and blessings my African American community.