Enough- An Abusive Solution


Yes, 911, Warren Street the house number is ten.
The cops, an ambulance, and the crisis unit. Send someone for his girlfriend.
Oh, I’m sorry, what’s that you say?
Okay, I’ll hold on, where would I go anyway?

They’ve got me on hold, I’ll talk to you while I wait,
Uh, yes that’s right he just walked in, I know it’s late.
You see, it was a routine that he’s had for a while.
I was sick of his lying through his teeth, grinning, and wanting me to smile.

Uh, yes, Warren Street, where you frequently send a car
The last time they just walked in the front door was ajar.
The cops came in, he told them he was playing it all a bad joke
They saw the marks he left around my throat

Huh? I don’t know her name she came to my door
What the hell did she think, what did she take me for
I put up with his shit as long as I could,
I was trying keep house and raise these kids, she just said she misunderstood

Operator, did you call for the car, shit as usual they’ll come to the hood last
I put up with his complaining and whooping my ass
That night I almost lost consciousness, I wasn’t breathing all I could do was gasp.

Yes, yes I’m not hysterical this is the quiet after the storm
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know this kinda call ain’t your norm
Uh, yes I heard you say they would be right here
Can I just explain why, I had a new fear.

He told me his new bitch was young
He said with her he found new fun
My daughter, see she just turned eighteen,
Damn, I don’t even know how to explain this scene

Now, she’s seen me get beat, knocked to the floor
But he always said she was who he adored.
My daughter entered the room screaming for him to stop
He smiled, grabbed her and ripped off her top

He yelled he was sorry as she tried to cover her budding breast
Oh, the cops are here I’ll tell them the rest.
Yes, officer he’s over there.
When the gun went off he fell in the chair.

I pulled the trigger. I don’t know if he’s dead.
The round went off, there’s the hold over his head.
Officer’s since this call is based on abuse,
If he’s not dead, can you promise not to let him loose.

The officer turned just shaking his head,
“No Ma’am, that’s for the court, he’s been hit but he’s not dead.”
The bastard didn’t file charges, the court gave me probation.
And to think that night should have been my motivation.

Yes, operator I know I was on hold,
I just was wondering how much violence will break this mold
No, uh no ma’am I didn’t touch him this time
You see, I decided he wasn’t worth me losing my mind

Yes, I do need the cops, the ambulance send the crisis unit too.
This bitch, see she showed up and didn’t know what to do.
She claimed he beat her in the face last night, she says she was raped
He entered the room while she was confessing to everything from their first date.

He raised his hand to swing at her there was a blast and he fell in that same old chair
You see this time the bullet caught him in mid air.
She came to kill my husband, her lover, the man with the abusive hand
Did you send the car or do you need the address again?

I don’t know her name, who cares the violence has ceased
From what she’s told me we’ll both live in peace.
Please hurry just send the police,
Damn girl the address is ten Warren Street.


Author, Nanette M. Buchanan

Family Secrets Lies & Alibi’s – A Must Read

You received the phone call, your loved one has died.
Over the past two years your relationship has been frayed, separated by Secrets & Lies.

As executor of the will, you find there are more legal ties.
More family, people you don’t know, more Secrets & Lies

Money changes people they all seek what has been left by your loved one the decease
You’ve been put in an uncomfortable position, you need an emotional release.

Your girl is a “gold digger” this you already know,
With the estate making you wealthy your relationship is about to blow

There’s one you’ve been talking to, she’s been tugging at your heart
You spend the week spending steamy moments with her setting off emotional sparks

Neither of you know the connection you’ve found a new beginning, a new love
But from the grave your father’s Secrets & Lies reveal another shock, you need help from above.

You find yourself dealing with a wife and family you never knew he had
You look at those expecting part of his estate and now you’re questioning “Dad”

Can a life that held Secrets & Lies reach you from the grave?
Can your family be the same, can new relationships be saved?

Will the wife finally confront the mistress who has been in her marriage from the start?
Will the mistress find she is the only woman who held the deceased close to her heart?

Can the son understand why his father didn’t tell his Secrets are there more Lies does he have an Alibi?
Will he lose his new love or find the truth while keeping his own secrets those he must hide.

Will the Mince family be secured as they were before D.Q.’s death?
You’ll have to read…..Family Secret’s Lies & Albi’s to learn the rest.





Why I wrote, “Family Secrets, Lies & Alibi’s”

I was raised as an only child, but lived with a cousin who was an only child also. I shared my home with her, my mother and step father. I didn’t meet my real father until I was graduating from high school on my way to college. It was then I was told I had two brothers, one older, one younger. To this date (I’m now a grandmother) I have not met either of them. I have often wondered if our paths crossed. Did we attend some of the same events? Well you get the idea.

I married my husband and he has a sister and two brothers but his sister is handicapped and he often wondered what having a sister would be like if she hadn’t been paralyzed on one side and unable to speak. I had been working with a young woman who had recently lost her brother. At the funeral she was told by members of his father’s family that she need not contact them since she was not a “real” family member. They had different father’s. She began questioning me about my husband. She had been told that her father had the same name as my husbands. I had known this woman for ten years and she never questioned it but after her lost she wanted to connect with her father’s other children. It was my husband, his brothers, and his sister that were missing in her life as she was in their’s.

“Family Secrets, Lies & Alibi’s was sparked from the thought…. What if they had met after the death of their father and no one told them the truth. My husband knew nothing about her. Suppose their paths had crossed and they did meet on a level of dating, relationships, suppose they didn’t have a strong family tie. What would the out come be? Most of us immediately say incest. We tend to forget they have no idea they’re related (The Family Secret), no one told the truth when asked (Lies) and the father is dead. (and Alibi’s).

Please visit my site and purchase my debut novel: http://www.myspace.com/ipendesigns

It presents the drama, unveils the truth and …..well you tell me.

Now Go Ahead and Blame The White Man

Now Go Ahead And Blame The White Man

I decided to venture through the city, explore what may be new
Working a nine to five each day, sightseeing ain’t what I normally do.

I let my mind drift through the struggles our communities face each day,
And my thoughts touched on what we often hear our people say.

We can’t get jobs the unemployment rate is at an all time high
Health insurance, taxes, the gas prices have passed the ceiling heading for the sky.

Programs are for the immigrants, damn we’ve been here longer then them
Let them get new businesses, buy property, give their kids scholarships,
it’s just a sin.

More kids on the corner selling and skipping school
Don’t nobody wanna hear that shit about living by the golden rules.

I stopped in mid thought and slowly looked around,
The saying “a product of your environment” now had a different sound.

Have you ever noticed the scenery in a city change?
We don’t even have to check the mailboxes, something ain’t the same

The lawns uncared for, trash and rubbish between each house,
Graffiti on the siding, what is that all about?

Doors wide open, cussing and drinking on the porch, what is that smell?
A stench of old cooking grease
Some of the places look as though they carry disease.

“A product of your environment”, the children romp and play
Did anyone even ask them what they learned today?

The white man don’t live here, it’s just us
I don’t think I’m better but I’m beyond disgust.

We blame others saying they don’t give,
Who do we blame when we destroy the homes where we live?

We don’t take care to make the environment safe,
Our streets are taken over by the thugs, dealers, and gangs
Even though we know their parents, where they were raised
We go back 400 years to blame the white man for making us slaves

Slaves to a community that we won’t take care of, not even our rented homes
Blame the landlord for the damage, the needed repairs, rent is cheaper if its slum

We don’t even know our neighbor…..cause we live in the hood.
The village concept wasn’t the white man’s, it was what made us feel good.

We felt good about our community, the placed where we lived
The families struggled together, and each had something to give

Words of advice and encouragement, a nod of recognition a friendly hello
“A product of your environment”, meant your home a place you wanted to own

When you get a moment walk through your “hood”,
cause you’re the product it made
Now go ahead blame the white man,
for creating that environment where only our people stay.

Copyright 2008
Nanette Buchanan,Author
visit my site http://www.myspace.com/ipendesigns

A Calming Effect

Calming Effect

A calming effect through troublesome time.

A place for Peace of mind.

Nowhere to reach, nowhere to turn.

Search within myself inner strength must burn.

To fill the emptiness that no one sees.

A calming effect needed inside of me.

My mind burdened with stress, my heart misunderstandings,

a place is needed for mental and emotional handling.

An escape with a calming effect,

inside myself I must find.

A peaceful place for my mind.

Thoughts copyright 1998

Author, Nanette M. Buchanan

visit my site http://www.myspace.com/ipendesigns

Words From The Cell— Are We Free?

My current employment is behind the walls with those who the courts have found guilty of crimes and their retribution includes years of their lives. They watch the free world daily, through the media and the behavior of those they come in contact with throughout their years of incarceration. Communication with them becomes inevitable. There are those who once their sentence begins who are taking the time not only to re-evaluate themselves but the free world in which they hope some day to return. The following poem contains topics discussed freely by many of the men behind the wall……

Words From The Cell
I took the opportunity to read the paper this week
No, seriously I read it from sheet to sheet.
Figured I would see what was happening in my home town
Figured I’d take a media glance since I can’t go out,
ya’ know roam around.
I listen to the news from time to time,
hear some of the cellies talking about back in the hood crimes.
Didn’t need no names, faces of those that don’t communicate
That’s how it is when parole don’t even have your date.
I shocked myself ready everyday from front to back
I was even more surprised when I thought,
damn everybody must be on crack.
The system is in place to do it’s thing.
But the crimes of today, what the hell do they mean.
Never mind the murder, muggings and senseless killings,
smuggling, car theft and the usual drug dealings.
What’s up with the gang banging, initiations and turf wars?
What’s up with mothers and fathers offing each other, what is that for?
The kids that are being abused, used by adults,
they’ll never survive mentally, always remembering how it felt.
The politicians can’t shuffle the cards fast enough to give a raw deal,
boys they hired are pulling their plugs keeping it real.
Skeletons are falling out of closets, even those held most high.
What’s up with the teachers, priests and rabbi’s?
I’m reading this from a jail cell where I will probably live until I am old.
From this cell I can feel that the world has grown cold.
I cry at times when I think of the fate I chose in my youth, the decisions I made.
Losing my golden years in life is the price I paid.
But for you who are free, and choose what appears to be correct.
You live daily, trying to understand what man calls living perfect.
How perfect can it be with all your fears?
You check yourself and your neighbor daily, just as I do here.
Living not knowing whether the next confrontation may cost you your life.
Praying harder daily for your loved ones, husband and wife.
Wondering if your children took heed and listened to your word of wisdom.
You’re living daily on edge, full of stress and unwanted criticism.
Yeah, I live here, it’s obvious I have been deprived from day to day.
But you who are free what a price you pay!
If you educate your child you wil pay a kings fee
And that payment still don’t guarantee they won’t end up like me.
What about those seeking employment, the want, need, and desire for better jobs.
You get your pay only to find with the deductions you’ve been robbed.
Those who look, and talk like me,
those who are feared by the intellects, those who fulfill your society,
Have said lock us away and toss the key.
As I read the papers I wondered what is the new punishment to be.
Just a few words from my home this 6 x 9 concrete cell
You think you’re living better,
after reading today’s paper….I can’t tell.

I’ve often asked my self are we, the free society, prisoners of our own environments.

Nanette M. Buchanan
Author, Quiet Times copyright 2008
See my blogs visit http://www.myspace.com/ipendesigns