The Rose That Grew From Concrete

The Rose That Grew From Concrete

by Tupac Shakur

Did you hear about the rose that grew
from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature's law is wrong it
learned to walk with out having feet.
Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams,
it learned to breathe fresh air.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete
when no one else ever cared.

I Will Keep Broken Things

I Will Keep Broken Things

I will keep
Broken
Things:
The big clay
Pot
With raised
Iguanas
Chasing
Their
Tails;
Two
Of their
Wise

Heads
Sheared
Off;

I will keep
Broken
things:
The old
Slave
Market
Basket
Brought
To my
Door

By Mississippi
A jagged
Hole
Gouged
In its sturdy
Dark
Oak
Side.

I will keep
Broken
things:
The memory
Of
Those
Long
Delicious
Nig ht
Swims
With
You;

I will keep
Broken
things:
In my house
There
Remains
An

Honored
Shelf
On which
I will
Keep
Broken
Things.

Their beauty
Is
They
Need
Not
Ever
Be
'fixed.'

I will keep
Your
Wild
Free
Laughter
Thoug h
It is now
Missing
Its
Reassuring
And
Gra ceful
Hinge.

I will keep
Broken
Things:

Thank you
So much!

I will keep
Broken
Things.

I will keep
You:

Pilgrim
Of
Sorrow.
< br>I will keep
Myself.

Alice Walker

Going Out To The Garden

Going Out To The Garden

Going out to the garden
this morning
to plant seeds
for my winter greens
-the strong, fiery mustard
& the milder
broadleaf turnip-
I saw a gecko
who
like the rest of us
has been
reeling
from the heat.

Geckos like heat
I know this
but the heat
these last few days
has been excessive
for us
& for them.

A spray of water
from the hose
touched its skin:
I thought it would
run away.
There are crevices
aplenty
to hide in:
the garden wall
is made of stones.

But no
not only
did the gecko
not run away
it appeared
to raise
its eyes
& head
looking for more.

I gave it.

Squirt after
squirt
of cooling
spray
from the green
garden hose.

Is it the end
of the world?
It seemed to ask.
This bliss,
is it Paradise?

I bathed it
until we were both
washed clean
of the troubles
of this world
at least for this moment:
this moment of pleasure
of gecko
joy
as I with so much happiness
played Goddess
to Gecko.

Alice Walker

Poems to my Girls

From: Poems To My Girls

I
How can Humanity
look the deer
in
the face?

How can Mommy,
having erected
my fence?

Alice Walker

Don't be like Those who Ask for Everything

Don’t be like Those who Ask for Everything

Don’t be like those who ask for everything:
praise, a blurb, a free ride in my rented
limousine. They ask for everything but never offer
anything in return.
Be like those who can see that my feet ache
from across a crowded room
that a foot rub
if I’m agreeable
never mind the staring
is the best way to smile
& say hello
to me.

Alice Walker

Desire

Desire

My desire
is always the same; wherever Life
deposits me:
I want to stick my toe
& soon my whole body
into the water.
I want to shake out a fat broom
& sweep dried leaves
bruised blossoms
dead insects
& dust.
I want to grow
something.
It seems impossible that desire
can sometimes transform into devotion;
but this has happened.
And that is how I've survived:
how the hole
I carefully tended
in the garden of my heart
grew a heart
to fill it.

Alice Walker

Blessed Are The Poor In Spirit

Blessed Are The Poor In Spirit

Did you ever understand this?
If my spirit was poor, how could I enter heaven?
Was I depressed?
Understanding editing,
I see how a comma, removed or inserted
with careful plan,
can change everything.
I was reminded of this
when a poor young man
in Tunisia
desperate to live
and humiliated for trying
set himself ablaze;
I felt uncomfortably warm
as if scalded by his shame.
I do not have to sell vegetables from a cart as he did
or live in narrow rooms too small for spacious thought;
and, at this late date,
I do not worry that someone will
remove every single opportunity
for me to thrive.
Still, I am connected to, inseparable from,
this young man.
Blessed are the poor, in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Jesus. (Commas restored) .
Jesus was as usual talking about solidarity: about how we join with others
and, in spirit, feel the world, and suffering, the same as them.
This is the kingdom of owning the other as self, the self as other;
that transforms grief into
peace and delight.
I, and you, might enter the heaven
of right here
through this door.
In this spirit, knowing we are blessed,
we might remain poor

Alice Walker