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Incomplete The Poet
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Poetry is the epitome of who I am. Poetry is my best friend! When I tell people that poetry is therapeutic for me, I wonder if they even comprehend the essence of those words. In the Bible the book of Habakkuk chapter two verse three it states,

2   “Write my answer plainly on tablets,
      so that a runner can carry the correct message to others.
    3 This vision is for a future time.
      It describes the end, and it will be fulfilled.
   If it seems slow in coming, wait patiently,
      for it will surely take place.
      It will not be delayed.

Ever since I discovered this text, I never stop writing, no matter the season, no matter the reason, I wrote. The more I wrote the better I felt. So I began to write even more, and I felt even better. There wasn’t situation that my writing couldn’t cure. There wasn’t any emotion that my writing couldn’t resurrect.  

People are curious how I choose the name Incomplete,  when really the name choose me. My date with destiny goes a little something like this.

            Oakwood College was having a writers workshop on April 18, 19, and 20th of the year 2000, and Sista Sonia Sanchez was one of the presenters, who was doing a seminar entitled Writes’ Block. The assignment that she gave the class was to present a poem that gave you the hardest writers block to over come. I presented a poem entitled Two Way Mirror, which is about a girl who gets date rape by her boyfriend. I thought the poem was flawless, matter fact I was envisioning Sista Sanchez being so impressed that she would take me on the road with her to open up her shows.  But unfortunately her response was just the opposite. It was the poem’s ending that cause Sista Sanchez to devour my entire piece.

            Here’s the reason why she devoured it. The poem is so real, so current that everyone in one way or another can relate to it. That’s until the young girl’s alarm clock goes off and she realizes that it’ just a dream and she didn’t get raped after all. That’s when Sista Sanchez jump out her seat an screamed no… no… no… Keep It Real she kept saying, Keep It Real. Then she said it, that’s Incomplete, that is Incomplete. Then she proceeded to say, I want you to go in that corner, ( pointing to the back of the class room) until you complete that poem, because I refuse to let all that talent go to waste. Every 3minutes she’ll scream out, “Is that poem finish yet Mr. Incomplete.” “No Ma’am” I shouted back. This exchange went on about 3 times when ten minutes later, I found myself looking at the poem as if I was the young lady who got raped. Sista Sanchez called me back to join the rest of the class. She asked me to recite my revised poem Two Way Mirror. Please pay special attention to the last stanza, Sista Sanchez, said that's it's a bolding ending but true to it's core.

Two Way Mirror


Do unto other what they did to me is what I say.

Give me more friends that envy me is what I pray.

Any one who is paying your bills is where I stay.

Any dog that wears a fancy collar is with whom I lay.


The world is your to take is what my mother express.

My father told me; never settle for anything but my best.

My associates informed me that my body is all I have.

Friends said if the relationship is not working, at least I got half.


My boyfriend whisper in my ear, “If you love me, be mines tonight.”

Later that night he said, “You go make it harder if you put up a fight!”

I thought it was love, but it was merely lust.

Only thing I can think about was the betrayal, thrust after thrust.


I wanted to speak up but his weight kept me down.

I wanted to scream but I was afraid of getting slapped around.

All I had the strength to do was look in his eyes and whisper stop.

Praying he would see my pain, and get from on top.


But instead of stopping, it intensified.

All I was thinking, was Lord keep me alive.

Then all of a sudden like on cue he quit.

But I was afraid to open my eyes, afraid that this was it.


I open one eye, afraid to see his eyes staring back act me to.

As my brain was racing saying, “What did I say, what did I do.”

Why would he do this to me, he said he loves me.

Well!  Well! Well! I do tease him, pacify and please him.

But that doesn’t give him a right to force his way in me.

I wonder if he would forgive me.

For not being what he wanted me to be.


But I didn’t say no,

I didn’t scream no,

I didn’t even whisper stop.

I didn’t even murmur stop!  



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