Diary of a Poet Week 3

For many years I was that odd person in classes who had to write everything on paper before I ever typed it on a computer. From simply quotes, poems to essays and lecture notes it all had to be written with pencil on my paper. This week I struggled with writting my very first novel because I decided to type instead of writting on my paper like I always do. Am I the only writer who has to write before typing? The other struggled I faced this week was that of balancing the time I give to building up the empire of others and building my very own. I attending a publishing seminar for well needed tips going forward into publishing. Even though I've published two books you can always learn more to ensure that you improve each and every time.

My advice for writers this week is to keep pushing forward even when the ideas aren't coming just give yourself time. Never become arrogant and always think about what will resonate with your reader. Never try to change yourself because believe it or not there are people out there who feel the way you feel and are looking for your words to motivate and inspire them

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The Young are being murdered

The death of the young By:©Saccheen Laing I put on my uniform Armed with books I set out in search of a good education. Streets lined with the blood stains of those who fell on the way I'm determined to live to see another day But I have no control over those who believe they can have their own way. Armed with guns and knives They attack me, They assault me, They abuse me , Because they believe they have control over me Because of guns and knives in hand. In my hands I write my plans A singer, an actor, a doctor, a fashion designer or a police man I clench my fist as my blood runs to join those who fell before My plans remain in my hands Never to be realized I am young but that means nothing on this land. The blood of the young will replace the ocean that surrounds and beautifies the land How many more shall die before you answer when I ask why? My mother shall cry and bury her son before he becomes a man My brot...

Loving a black man that doesn't love me

Image source: Google Images His beautiful dark skin made rich from the earth, his physical strength supporting where I am physically weak, his beautiful smile and then the depth of his speech. In a world where the wrongs that he has done is spoken about more frequently than what is good about him. I see the beauty in black unions,I see the beauty in black souls connecting, I see beauty in being by his side. The issue is, he no longer sees beauty in me. We walk paths these days paved with the broken connections. Couples who once professed to be so deeply in love now pretend to not know each other. We walk paths where you can pour the purest of love into the vessel of a man/woman and they remain empty. On one side, we have black men who believe that black women have lost their worth. They have lost the meaning of what it means to be a Queen. The black man believes that the black woman has wrapped herself in the labels that society has placed on her. The black woman is ofte...

The Jamaica of tomorrow

When shall the change come? Crime and violence ago continue and mash up Jamdung? Street lights come on at night and our window lids we shut tight tight No kids on the street, no time to meet and greet Why can't we no longer walk at nights? Why we don't have no peace? Police men guard the streets Kids run quickly pass them not sure if they police or just undercover gunman and thief Thousands complete their university education but student loan awaits them in every gleaner publication Jamaica is such a beautiful nation, nice food and nuff happiness and sweet jubilation Wait a moment and turn the TV off the international station Turn the dial to our local station No more happiness and sweet jubilation Blood flowing in the streets of poverty and ever increasing destruction You have the answers? Tell us how we need a change in politics Five years time and we still have the same corruption You tell me to smile because better must come I ...

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