The Hughes

Do men dream in the same way that women do?

Do they cradle a dream to their chest, minding its head as if it’s fragile neck would snap?

Do black men dream big?

Do brown?

Men hold fast to so many things,

But dreams?

Or at least I can’t imagine many of them knowing what it feels like to have a dream

Hold you back

To say,

I will never leave you

No matter how hard the future gets

That we will make it through and survive this thing called life,


So, deferred, what is it that becomes of them? They build or preach or teach. Men may accept a lesser reality, a shallow dream that isn’t sweet enough to satisfy anyone. A sliver at a time they accept the life they have come to live, and, every once in awhile, learn to silence the hope that builds up in their chest

-excerpt poem from my book in progress called  ‘A Man Deferred’. Let us know what you think!


I take the snap from the center,

fake to the right, fade back…
I’ve got protection.

I’ve got a receiver open downfield…
What the hell is this?

This isn’t a football, it’s a shoe, a man’s brown leather oxford.

A cousin to a football maybe,

the same skin,

but not the same,

a thing made for the earth,

not the air.
I realize that this is a world where anything is possible

and I understand,


that one often has to make do with what one has.

I have eaten pancakes, for instance, with that clear corn syrup on them because there was no maple syrup and they weren’t very good.



this is different. (My man
downfield is waving his arms.)

One has certain responsibilities,
one has to make choices.

This isn’t right and I’m not going
to throw it.

–by Louis Jenkins