URBAN BOOKS AUTHORS & WRITERS OF AMERICA

"Dedicated to promoting literacy and the advancement of writers and authors from under-represented groups"

UBAWA's Daily News Feed Post New Entry

The psycological state of woman, or girls mind when a man just cant give her the pleasure she desires after rape molestation or incest.

Posted by Author Syretta Walker on October 22, 2012 at 11:45 AM Comments comments (0)

As an author who has been molested I often talk about what has happened to me; sometimes I get  feedback, and sometimes I dont. But, I find that a lot of women will say I can't get that mighty o with a man based on what happened. Men, what about Yall do you get that feeling after being molested or raped; that it takes the same sex to get you off. Regardless, I have a tale that will make everyone wonder wheter it is based on facts or fiction:http://bradleyspublishingcompany.webs.com/apps/webstore/products/show/3065918 .

UBAWA's Poetry Contest (ENTRY # 10)

Posted by Author D Leach on August 2, 2012 at 12:35 AM Comments comments (2)

Like A Phoenix

Like a Phoenix…

I rise

In spite of what was planned

As my demise

In spite of my circumstances

No matter the delays

I will rise from these ashes

Come what may

You may plot and you may plan

But what you forgot was….

That my life and destiny

Are ultimately in God’s hands

You see….

From the foundation of the earth

Even before my very own birth

He knew the plans he had for me

He even knew

That this day would come

That I would have my very own Judas

Who would betray me

So, even though today, I may feel a little weak

As death, hell, and confusion surround

No evil will I fear

For You, My Comforter, are always around

So, instead, I choose to rejoice

Knowing that the table is being spread

And an invitation to my enemies

Has been pinned and mailed

No expense shall be spared

And their eyes will be a glare

As we together shall feast and dine

And, in my victory moment, I will shine

And, Like a Phoenix…..I Rise!

An Excerpt from Make a Wish by Tina Ray

Posted by Author D Leach on August 1, 2012 at 1:15 PM Comments comments (0)

Murad

 

Ain’t this some shit right here. This mutha’ fucka gotta be out his rabbit-assed mind, fucking calling after the shit that just went down. Shady ass mutha' fucka probably looking for some damn sympathy about his eye knowing damn well Nube soft-hearted and not gonna just blow him off, since he supposed to be so injured and all. Sheeeiit…this nigga don’t know… his ass got off light. Damn…let me exhale I thought as I turned and clutched the railing on the balcony. Let me stop and get myself together and think this thing out. We just talked about this in the truck on the way home…Trey is not a threat to me as far as she’s concerned. Yeah and I believe her…he not a threat…but he certainly is a fucking aggravation. I’m saying come on…shit is over…accept that and move the fuck on. I mean, I can understand the grief over his loss, cause Nube is a fucking jewel, but sorry son…your ignorance on the value of rare gems is not my problem. In fact your ignorance is my blessing.

I made a point to check my watch and noted that 2.5 minutes had passed and noticed that she’d taken a seat on the bed, still very much in deep conversation. She did seem like she was annoyed herself and that right there kind of took it in another direction. I’m saying…that’s my fucking lady right there, and I don’t take kindly to nobody wearing on her nerves. But…she asked me to give her 5 and I’m gonna give her that cause she asked. I stood out on the balcony letting the time wind down before I returned inside and silently motioned to my wrist letting her know that time was up. She held up one finger in a motion to say 1 more minute. Yeah right…picture that…nigga on the phone blocking on my fucking time no less. The agreement was 5…and 5 only. I came over and sat next to her on the bed and leaned over and kissed her. She continued talking and so I kissed her again, then proceeded down her neck. I reached over and grabbed her legs from under her positioning her on her back as she continued to talk, “Trey…that is so not how I remember things at all. You know that you used to …”

I took a deep breath, exhaled and continued on with what I was doing…like I said this, my fucking time right here. I continued to kiss her softly on her neck and unbuttoned her blouse as I proceeded to make my way down towards them peaks and valleys I’d envisioned earlier. Bingo…she had on a bra that had the closure in the front and I unsnapped it and released the restraints. I touched gently, slowly then kissed gently…slowly. Her breathing began to change and she began to lose focus on the words of the conversation.

“Trey…uhm…well…no…but then again…” I smiled inside as I continued to utilize my time and took the right nipple in my mouth. Her body jerked upward and she feebly raised her finger again as if to say…please…just 1 minute.

“Trey…listen…I really was…I mean really…in the middle of something…important. What…no…how you gonna take it there. I was not the one who constantly had distractions…you was the one….”

Okay…whatever he talking done recaptured her attention so I need to get this back to where it needs to be. Opportunity was definitely on my side today as she had on an elastic waist gypsy skirt that I slowly rolled down as I kissed licked and nibbled her abdomen. Once I got to the hipline, I scooped up the panties with the skirt and rolled away the whole kit and caboodle. She raised her eyebrows at me, yet continued to talk.

 

“Trey…going back and forth on events in the past is so irrelevant to today. You just need to…”

With me freeing up the southern hemisphere, I reached down to lick and kiss her knees. She jumped a little, then tensed up. Oh no…we can’t have that. I know just what to do to get her to relax. I let my tongue do a slow dance behind her knees, than brought it back around to her inner thighs. I kissed slowly, purposefully and accurately as her broken conversation informed me of my progress.

“Trey…okay…well just let me…uhm…well you…I’m trynna….”

Look like this nigga got a hard time understanding she got shit to do. Guess I’m gonna have to help his ass out. I licked and kissed the inner thighs, teasing and nibbling, my tongue making its way slowly up to the treasure building the momentum along the way.

She tried to get a grip and excuse herself on the phone with, “I’ve…really…got to go…Trey…”

He could have gotten his ass off the phone or she could have hung up…but since they didn’t…wasn’t gonna let them continue to impede on my time. I reached my destination and took my first swipe to which she let go an unmistakable moan. I took my second, my third, and my fourth swipe to which she flat out moaned in 3-D. I paused for a minute then went in deep for the nibble and nips to which she completely submitted herself with the all-out moans and calling my name. As her arms flailed to her side removing the phone from her ear, I reached up and took the cell phone from her hand. As I licked, sucked and teased her into the moans that I like to hear, I brought the cell phone right on down front and center to all the action and began to deliver some of my best work in sensor-round. I made sure to include all the special effects of the wet gushes of slurping, sucking, licking, splashing and the whole nine, all the while her intense moans served as the backdrop.

Once I knew that the full effect had been established, I paused, put the phone to my ear and said, “Yo Money…she busy.”

I rose up slid the phone closed and tossed it onto the dresser. I proceeded to lose my attire as she lay on the bed looking up at me like “how could you?” So I looked back down at her with my own look that said, “you had ya 5…this my time.” And now that we got that all out the way, I reached under her to cup them sweet checks, slid ole’ boy up inside of her and proceeded to knock that shit down …like there was no tomorrow.

UBAWA's Poetry Contest (ENTRY # 9)

Posted by Author D Leach on July 25, 2012 at 1:25 PM Comments comments (0)

Little Black Girl

Little Black Girl

Do not let anyone stop you.

If we can have a black first lady “Michelle Obama”

Then trust me, you can do anything.

Never think that you are less

Then any other race on this earth

You are stronger then they want you to think

If “Rosa Parks” could sit on a bus and not

move during one of the most racist times in

history then, then trust me you can achieve anything

If “Queen Latifah” can be a spokeswoman for Covergirl

Then trust me, there’s nothing you cannot succeed in.

The first is step is never ever giving up.

Success should never be measured by your skin,

But the true gifts that are within.

If at a “Beyonce” concert you can find all nationalities

Singing and jumping, then trust me you can succeed.

It’s the fight in you passed down from centuries

For you to achieve, all I’m asking you is to believe

In yourself even if everyone else doesn’t believe.

UBAWA's Poetry Contest (ENTRY # 8)

Posted by Author D Leach on July 25, 2012 at 1:20 PM Comments comments (1)

The Rebel

 

So, you say.

There goes another rebel without a cause

Who knows his heart or soul, his direction or goals.

His rules, morals or laws.

Where you stopped asking questions

and began looking for answers is where his journey began.

He fear is to hesitate, stumble or falter, for he may never find his motivation,

drive or desire to fight again.

 

So, you say,

There’s another rebel without societies structure, education or molding.

Who knows what he may possess, his awareness or values he clings to,

the internal being that is unfolding.

The need for developing self, a path, a guide.

The need to exist in a world that resists believing,

“We can live peacefully side by side.”

 

So, you say,

There’s a rebel without an open mind, seeing through closed eyes.

Who has walked in his shoes, lived within his wall,

reached with him for his stars in the sky.

 

Understand, those who now rebel

live through the political decisions, torments and hell.

Hearing the false promises of change

and after all these years of struggle the living is the same.

 

Understand their willingness to die,

to fight not knowing why.

Targeting the poor, the rich, the young and old, touching each race.

Crime, poverty and disease, has no set time, no set place.

 

So you say,

There goes a rebel without a cause.

We refuse to understand his need for our approval, acceptance or applause.

We recognize his contributions are negative solutions.

Through our fears, and through his faults;

he becomes a part of our penal institutions

 

Hear the rebels cry, we are all dying inside….

We have lost our people, lost our dreams, it’s a dying civilization.

Their fight is our fight to save this nation.

Copyright Nanette Buchanan 2010

UBAWA's Poetry Contest (ENTRY # 7)

Posted by Author D Leach on July 25, 2012 at 11:20 AM Comments comments (4)

A REAL WOMAN

A Real woman keeps it real

She will let you know politely how she feels

This woman don't have time for games

She will escort you out the same door you came

A real woman shows up ready to fulfill her role

She's determined to reach her goal

This woman has dignity & class

She allows foolishness to pass

A real woman knows who she is

It's reflected in her walk, her talk, & the way she lives

This woman head is held high

She walks in confidence in each stride

A real woman is not conceded she exuberates confidence within

Labels don't define her she starts her own fashion trend

This woman thinks not only of herself but places others in her plan

She's always ready to lend a helping hand

A real woman don't run during difficult times

She prays & have faith that everything will be just fine

This woman possess a special & unique quality

It's apparent for all to see

A REAL WOMAN

UBAWA's Poetry Contest (ENTRY # 6)

Posted by Author D Leach on July 25, 2012 at 11:05 AM Comments comments (0)

What is Black?

 

Black is the color of gloom and eternal suffering representing heart ache and pain. Black represents a veil that hangs over a cloud representing a misty darkness. Black is the color that you see when you’re unable to see the light. When you are in search of reaching paradise complete darkness that exist deep down in the pit of your soul a representation of all of the dark things that you could never let go. Black is also the color that submerges the beautiful blue skies when darkness falls. Black is bold confident and stands alone it will fade out anything that is a reminder of what we call dull. Black represents the opposite of light and is an indication of strength dominating anything that appears to be a threat. Black is the color that we see when were under attack. Black can appear to be strong and weak at the same time. How we determine it depends on our state of mind black is a color that has many faces but only one hue. Black is a representation of all the many emotions that you carry inside of you rather it appears to be dark or beautiful at the end of the day Black is always one spectrum.

UBAWA's Poetry Contest (ENTRY # 5)

Posted by Author D Leach on July 25, 2012 at 11:00 AM Comments comments (1)

Is it in the way that I walk

or in the way that I move

that’s got you trippin

trying to steal my groove

Is it in the movement of my hips

as I sashay into a room

that makes the brothas sweat

and start to swoon

Is it in the dress that I wear

that hugs my curves and shows my physique

that makes you paranoid but sometimes oh so meek

Is it in the thickness of my lips

or the broadness of my nose

that makes you soon forget

I am as gentle to touch as a rose

Is it in my complexion

Caramel, vanilla, dark chocolate brown

that makes you chose Asian or white and put me down

Is it in the pride I exude

when I quote Malcolm X

reminiscing on all brothas slain

and wondering “who’s next?”

Is it in my Angela Davis afro

or my Maya Angelou tone

as I verbalize images of strength and pride

visions like a movie shown

Is it in the dialect I speak

proper English or ebonics

that’s got you agitated and confused

because I’m so well rounded

Is it in my existence

because I am young, gifted and black

get over your insecurities

if you can’t handle me step back

I am Strong

I am a Black Woman

I am Free

I am me

REJUVENATION: INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY (Excerpt)

Posted by Author D Leach on July 11, 2012 at 7:15 PM Comments comments (0)

MINI EXCERPT FROM BOOK:

Nine Lives

6~Days only to whist out the game

of a mouse chase that is

forbidden in

the cat's eye

green

with envy

5~O'clock time to change the linens

on the bed because the

cat has been bad

tearing holes in the sheets

clawing again~Repeats

because

the cat

is hungry. . .

The Look of a Man

Posted by Author D Leach on June 30, 2012 at 1:30 PM Comments comments (0)

Date: June 24, 2012

Writer’s Name: Charlotte Templeman

Title: The Look of a Man

When I think about what a real man looks like I do not have to look far for the answer. A man is an individual who takes care of his family by providing a safe environment for them. He is the protector of his household and he leans on God or his spirituality for guidance. He provides his family with a secure sense of stability while being there for them emotionally, physically and spiritually. He has a strong work ethic which he shows every day by going to work, even when he does not want to. A real man respects women, especially his mother and his wife. He loves her unconditionally along with his children and he supports her every endeavor. A real man not only takes care of his immediate family but he extends himself to others when needed.

 

From an early age I was blessed to see first-hand the look of a real man. That man was my father. He worked daily to provide an income so that my mother had the resources to take care of me and my siblings. Not only did he financially take care of us but he always encouraged us to do our best. His motto was “go to school and learn something.” He gave us accolades when we did something wonderful but he also reprimanded us as well. It was all done out of the love he had for us and we appreciated it as we grew older. My father instilled values and morals in us by teaching us to respect our elders and other human beings. He showed us the importance of loving ourselves and each other. Today my father is 83 years old and he continues to be loved by his family and friends. He continues to teach his grandchildren, especially the males, about valuing life and living it to the fullest. He truly exemplifies what a real man is and from his teachings my two older brothers know it too.

 

But what if a young boy growing up today does not have the example my siblings and I had? What would their definition of a man be and what would he look like? Would he be the drug dealer on the corner making a fast buck? Would he be the rapper who constantly degrades women and put them down? Or would he be the man who does not work but relies on a woman to take care of him? Often within our communities there are single mothers who have the task of raising boys to men. Most of them are doing their best without the help of a man but as we know it can be difficult raising a son alone. The difficulty does not come in the lack of love they give or the resources they provide in ensuring their needs are met, the difficulty is a woman cannot teach a boy to be a man. That is why it is imperative for single mothers raising sons to have positive men around them.

Young boys growing up have to be made aware that it is okay to be respectful, hardworking, loving and kind with a solid foundation to do the right thing. They have to understand that a real man does not hurt, degrade or abuse their loved ones but instead uplift them and motivate them. They have to also understand that a real man never stops learning and is always eager to learn something new. The trend of young boys growing up without fathers or positive men in their lives has to change. This change can come from the old saying; “it takes a village to raise a child.” As a village if we do not get a hold of our boys early and teach them right from wrong and the look of a real man, it is highly possible that we may lose a lot of them to unfortunate circumstances. Our African American boys are too valuable and needed. Are we committed to raising men or non-productive males? It is highly important that we nurture our boys from an early age and surround them with positive images; doing this will increase the number of African American boys going to college as opposed to jail. Let’s show them the look of a real man and give them a head start in life. They deserve it. Are you on board?


Donate!

  • 0.00%
    Support Urban Authors Goal: $1000.00 Raised: $0.00 0 donations

Video Blog

1465 views - 0 comments
1294 views - 0 comments
1501 views - 0 comments