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Mindshare is a collection of poems in 130 pages that cover serious minded topics about love, relationships, what men look for in serious partnerships and just how sensitive truly caring can be. MindShare is a chronicle of Black History from love hip to the Million Man March and even had perspectives of 911, Election 2000 and Prayers about the African Diaspora and our House Divided.
MindShare is well balance book about an African American male with thought about everything. If you want insights about how some men tick. Read this. If you want to reconcile social issues that plague our human conditions -- read this. If you want to share serious prayers, read this!
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In the 60’s we used our children as pawns in a dangerous game. They were our weapons they had to be because we had no other. And so we sat them up before the world and all its cameras and lights and microphones as symbols…something to show America exactly what was at stake for us. At demonstrations, at rallies, on picket lines and freedom marches, we used our children to make a desperate point. Through hostile crowds of mean and angry whites, and snapping dogs, and water cannons, and billy clubs, we led our children. We made our way sometimes through blood and the threats of gunfire into strange classrooms. We called it victory, and we left them there. Calvin Anderson is one of those we were prepared to sacrifice. It is no wonder therefore, that his poetry doesn’t soothe…rather it makes demands. Calvin and his poetry come to us bearing scars. And asking questions: What do we do now? If this is freedom, where’s the rest of it? Ossie Davis
Excerpt
Psychic Quest
I look for you
in message Music and
on busy New York City
sidewalks.
I seek you in Europe in Baroque Promenades and
in situations and conversations when
life is a canvas and you
just appear in beautiful and in character-raised faces.
I see in you the same fired-quest and the same heart-longing and
guarded-resistance to multiply a One.
Wishing an allowance from God for peace
because God alone allows -- eyes to meet.
I hear you in the sparkle and charms of
country girls from all over the world,
with pasts-ever present and jewels of people-wisdom dripping from
their innocent mouths like buttered-jelly from Grandma's rolls. Imagination is a sweet fruit, a fresh vegetable and you are an apparition like honey wine flavored with intoxicating reflections. You’re a beauty brought with song birds, and fragrant pastures and Grandfather mountains
and flowered fields. And I try again to lift, and celebrate and gather you fully
and as successful as holding Spring rain in two hands
I’m soaked the more by the experience, by your escape,
by the spring refresh that
I can not hold.
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