Salutations To The Dawn, a book of Poetry by Ketechia Shye Sales


Ketechia Shye Sales has written a wonderful and passionate portrait first collection of autobiographical, raw, thought provoking, well crafted and beautifully honest poems. A woman’s journey, a well lived life of pain, joy, and great love. A journey of continuance and discovery. She is unapologetic. There is no hiding behind words. She is not here to appease her audience. She writes her truth and her experiences. Ketechia Shye Sales writes from her minds eye and heart. This remarkable collection of poems is written by a woman refusing to live on the fringes of society and life. Instead, she has and continues to live life with passion, expectation, faith, wonder and hope.

If each reader comes heart pure, thirsting and with life hunger and need, her words will caress your senses, teaching you to embrace, explore and live life courageously.

Ketechia Shye Sale’s life continues to be one of transformation and growth. Speaking clearly, authentically and owning her own voice. In doing so she captures her audience with the purity and honesty of her words. Here are excerpts from poems in Salutations to the Dawn:

Salutations to the Dawn
Give grief a new title.
I can’t bear to hear her name.
Call her joy,
Define her in ways that encompass vision.

There shall be no looking back
at Sodom.
no salty pillars littering
burned forest acres
Firefighters spent too many hours
to salvage.
Wonder if they heard the trees wailing.

Didn’t know it was possible
to kill a dead thing
Mourning begins again,
at nightfall?
I think not!

My Pen

She cries for me as well, leaving letters in old poetry books
that I have long since forgotten.
Misbegotten dreams drawn on dollies.
Bastard children born breathless so she breathes in,
Gives form and shapes destiny.

Another Day, Another Dollar

I am partially disconcerted by the audacity of her
To ask me for the very thing her people still
Attempt to procure from me daily,
My livelihood.
Fighting hatred with contempt bred from
Grandma’s still visible bruises
Photographed in black and white
like white woman, ghetto contrast
Titled left.

I am angered that the only way
White appears in dark forests of
is considered trash dumped
Amongst the debris we have been considered
Fighting my segregated heart
as she
Sits patiently at the window of my new
Car, gleaming from the polish I still owe
Blood for. It be no mule an forty acres not accompanied
For free.
Plantation bound.
Master disguised as
Boss. Praying I can feed
Babies on pennies
She has her cup extended to receive.

This is what White looks like
At the moment.
Hungry as me
Worn and beat as we
Every man.
Color blind despair
Not wishing to own one single me.
Not now, owning of herself.
Counting on the goodness
O God’s children
Who I swear I am
Every Sunday
Pew-bound and gagged.

As the light turns green I speed
Off, Turn right, Park. Flip coins and a smile.
Her children’s children
Have evolved past the odium
That has sucked the last 30 seconds of
Life force from me, and
Look beyond my blackness,
When I have exhausted possibility in
This economy and am forced
to swallow pride
To provide
On this corner of hell and
High water
because we are all just
a single paycheck away from
This same
hand-me-down compassion.

Do Not Go…

Do not fo silently into that night slumber.
the noise of unspoken words
is too deafening.
The darkness too vast to
find our way back, so
rage, rage against the dying of our light
and please do not go
placidly into that good/bad/indifferent night.

Salutations To The Dawn has been a rewarding journey. A journey of renewal, celebration and reflection. A journey I will undoubtingly revisit. Congratulations, Ketechia Shye Sales on Salutations To the Dawn, a great first collection of poems!

If you would like to purchase a copy of Salutations to the Dawn, and/or contact Ketechia Shye Sales:

©Lorraine Currelley 2013. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized duplication of this material without express and written permission is strictly prohibited.


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