Kisha Nicole Foster

Kisha Nicole Foster's raw, energetic verse is a hybrid that incorporates the academic and marries it to the raw: uncompromising street poetry of the Hip Hop generation. Kisha is entering her final years at Cleveland State University. In 2003 she was a member of the 2003 Cleveland Classic Slam Team and has been featured in various local newspapers. She also had the honor of being featured in the Writers and Their Friends performance in 2006 as one of the top 25 writers in Cleveland. Kisha is a passionate advocate of arts education being extended to members of her community. Kisha has been hailed in many quarters as a "Poet of the People," due to her community-based focus. Kisha has always believed that art should be used as a conduit to express and process emotions. Her contact info is kisha_foster (at symbol) hotmail.com.

Kisha Nicole Foster on Myspace

For My People
by Kisha Nicole Foster

for my people
without a home
void of love
incest influenced
bed ridden
lack of care
my people
embedded in the veins
of society
walking
disrespecting
one self
disrespect to all
to oneself
my people
with baby carriages
and babies
baby daddies
false promises
hope flooded
filled with hate
exasperated
starving
for a savior
my people reaching
high towards the
heavens
weeping nightly
on pillowcase-less
pillows
winds bend billows
winds break promises
my people
HE will come again
for the
taking
of souls
regardless of the life
one lived…
for my people
who serenade
forty lines for every sniff
ingesting fairy dust
for a new. – bless

Block Boys
by Kisha Nicole Foster

Young men on corners
standing on curbsides lanky
sitting on stops sullen
embedding life situations within
listening to deaf ears
pulling belt straps loose
grabbing guns with right
holding victims in left
looking at manhood stoic
never looking down stupid
pride in heart clutching
sacrificing all those loved
even the mothers birthed
sacrificing futures wrongly untold
not wanting to learn
not wanting to live
only trying to survive
as any man brother
killing selfish envy greed
for money my brother
Four words for a sentence
four words a sentence
a sending messages away
ascending into darker levels
loving the streets highly
hating JESUS daily JESUS
repetitive speeches repeating repetition
all things above beautiful
falsely proclaiming unwanted death
selling drugs is bad
selling pussy is horrible
Young men on corners
dare to grow up
don’t want adulthood hood
beat it bitch hoe
words inflict violent actions
people kill people useless
love overpowers drug money
corrupt politicians glutton money
green credit card plastic
blue purple sun gummy
not listening to suggestions static
somedays young men breathe
honoring all those past
searching for a new
leaning towards positive fast
reaching arms in air
raising to the father
completing words fast stutter
completing paragraphs mouths mutter
pitter putter peanut butter
steaks potatoes greens dessert
the earth fell once
down in the depths
of hell never appearing
glimpse of new days
when young men stood
proud to be a
man to a woman
all ye lands JESUS
giving his love back
not wanting a return
give the love back please
for those who are not fire
born into the depths of hell (no) return.

Nothing
by Kisha Nicole Foster

I’ve been sitting here
tearing open empty shoe boxes
into itty bitty pieces
remnants of your love
seeping through my veins out into the earth
from which were bred
you walked out and left your dirty underclothes
for me to wash and fold as if you would return
immediately
when I wanted you to
I could count the sleepless nights when
I would cry
retract
cry in a ball
from the removal of your warmth
you played a hand unbeknownst
leaving me alone and dry
willing to forgive
fighting to forget and
you
pretend to not feel my heart beat
in your throat as you move daily
you reminisce on the love we had
wondering where and why
you let it slip away into the darkness of your soul
I having to pick up
pieces broken
not in the plan
this heart break ache
I feel after instilling so much
indifferent energy
into your being
our being together
A five year plan I gave it
until the cows stopped mooing and the roosters throat box wasn’t in place
that amount of time
forever
I instilled in our being one
you walked away
without giving me myself back
We live and We learn
and retell the stories
we lived
for the fight
of another
relationship amongst another human
being nothing
being of earth and water
breathing the oxygen
given
living the life temporarily given
I would have
yet you chose to walk away
taking all that I gave you.