Sweet

Lost in riddles and smooth lies,

that rhyme

and quick smiles, bright teeth, and eyes,

that hypnotize

Truth set out for me,

I hung high instead.

Tiptoed across hot coals holding my breath-

imagining a love of ours

on chorus

song by many

felt by plenty.

I sing for you.

Hoping you'd see me-

And we could sink, feel cool

honing our togetherness

and creating it as beauty.

Sweet lies read like sweet smiles

on broken canvases and keyboards askin' for play-

trust became a rhythm of

lies, apologies: repeat.

My heart could never sway.

I stay parched like the longing do.

fool-I see sweet nectar in you,

A Queen.

I curtsey at your feet

timidly, waiting to be tapped

sweetly, on each shoulder.

Sweet, won't you keep me?

I've been stung,

now I'm dying from your bite.

My one desire?

Your honey-

You saw past me

I couldn't be your flower.

I'd bloom for you-though

be true

wholesome too.

Them eyes spin a haunting image

read by you lips-

they show a scene lost in it's own film

strip, soundtrack of the blues

with a sequel intended

to break

me

too.

Like you, sweet?

Sweet Southern Morning

Southern mornin' sweetness
hugged with the gentle kisses of the mornings birds
hummin' eagerly over railroad tracks
singin' past broken buildings and old tire swings-

Hard interruptions
of yella finding his voice,
muffled by the sounds of
choirs singin' and church bells ringin',
there's a calm here.

Almost find myself to ready to not believe it-
searchin' for sounds to halt and winds to disrupt
my sweet southern morning'-

My body collapses with the rising of Mamma Sun
kissin' wildly on her earth, the extensions of her body
finding my skin, kissin' firmly, wakin' up my insides
She eases me with a gentle touch and wraps me up in her mornin'-
sharing her wholesomeness with me
(never felt more delicious)

My breathing is slowed now
breath stilled by the chilled rhythm
of hearts aligning with the certainty of existence
no need to rush, it's here.

Southern mornings sing a cool tune-
heavy, tinged with blood red dirt
loose now, and sorry
singin' for new understanding
asking for rediscovery.

Southern mornings sing a compelling tune
with a melody of the blues
coatin' over a somber history-
accompanied by sunday church bells
and the happy sounds of children's play.

I thank sweet
for pouring herself onto the south
and giving me new morning
through my quiet mourning.

Self Portrait pt. 2

I decided to try unearthly honesty
bitter and sweet truth
no mask of the tongue
mellow deliverance
I consistently question what life is
and can't figure where mind is
I'm repeating my self-again
because I'm still locked on it-
still addicted
I decided to rebuke loving uncertainty,
went for the kill
asked the unasked questions
got rejected
constant replay of a life unloved
yearning to become a mixture of eclectic unabused happenings
I watched it laugh at me
suck me in, trip me
watch me begin to fall-
I swam in eyes
and though myself a float, felt protected
almost embraced the hug
almost let the falsity of the remedy
fool me -again
There's no way my heart could breathe
without the pen
thoughts unrecorded are not enough
-to easily lost
leaving changes unmade
I have to write away the pain
of commonly misjudged eyes
I still even let my heart cry
exhale from the shame
coated on the brokeness of the unloved
i faced weary eyes straight through the mirror
could only scope the sight of another
The ones I wanted to take in mine
I'm breathing still
trying to seek calm
realizing my words don't make change
I only live them for me
to dream myself unpained
words kept me
so I keep them in unearthly honesty.

locked

I locked on your eyes,
piercing and wide looking.

They had a mystery
a divine story,
something curious
and abstract like
(don't peel off me, please?)

They have a steady flow
and a sick coolness
(like you do)

The gentle sharpness of them
amaze me-
I just want to know them
(and be close)

They shake my whole existence-
send chills down my spine,
(you're beautiful past today)

I hope to meet your gaze on tomorrow
I'd like to watch them watch the sunrise
(feel their hold)

I let them bathe me,
I want to be my purest with them.

They ask for such sweet honesty
and I timidly give into them
because their trueness frightens me
(and because i want you)

They look like eternity
and foresee a life of love.
(so i'm locked on you)

Po Dream

Poe it tree
saved me

So I stay wrapped in her
trying to pull my heart out,
break her from this cave

I wanna,
swim good
and take heed in him
feel the touch of her

I want to experience that fragile
thirst, some folk call it love

Can I take off my skin for you?
Expose you only to my flesh-

Can I press my bleeding self against you?
Will you feel my hurt?

I love to watch the flow-
ride.

I love how it never stops
no mater how still the water is

I took a bath in it
tried to drown myself
to stop the sour breath

I looked to her eyes for kindness
searched them for affirmation
reached out to
you
wanted your love

I cut myself on the prick deep inside your chest-
but I still held onto it hoping my feel would heal the hurt,
hoping my burn would feel good.

I'm dreaming still-
imaging a world where you knew me,
knew about we,
felt the possibilities-

My life be lucid like that
my mind swollen
fighting the uncertainty of time
dreaming for a break-
running towards a lie.

I'm dreaming still-
but I don't see the sunshine of tomorrow,
only the dull of today.

My heart be hopelessly in hopeless hope-
for you

I lose myself with a sick lit bud
and sizzle into quiet time-

I'm back with you,
and you're wrapping me-
like poetry always do

Keeping me quiet,
sound only in my chest

but you see I'm dreaming still-
imaging a time when my reality did not exist
but we did

Self Portrait pt.1

i am scatterbrain

and uncontrolled

collected in a messy kindof way

my legs aint always shaved

and my finger nails are rarely painted

(my childhood grim and tainted)

sometimes i have sad eyes

and a furious brow

a quick tongue 

but a daunting smile

i stand created 

from an assortment of complex memories

and establishment after experience

i myself am incorporated 

and i got business

Purpose of divine favor

my hands and lips 

sometimes be horrified

to dance in the breath of my own existence 

i often question what life is

and wonder where mine is 

i've lost it

reclaimed and disclosed my truth

sometimes there's a cry in my chest 

that i can't quite get out

sometimes i lie and contradict myself

i am a hypocrite 

and perfectly flawed 

sometimes i admire the unworthily flawless

and desire to live that life

more often than so i'm petrified 

and hidden behind the living 

folded between the lines

my hips round and large

so i'm often out the margin 

or bleeding through the paper

or sometimes just too messy to read

Ever live for years without breathing?
(i feel like i just exhaled)

sometimes i feel brutish 

and allow myself to gloat in pity

often i look to outward lives 

to catalyze my outward movement 

sometimes i feel lovely

and admire my coat of skin

too often i question myself from within

and wonder where times been

and where it's goin'

and who be knowin'

(and how much of my life was sin?)

consistently i live in uncertainty 

dwell too heavily in my own thoughts

and confuse perception with reality 

we all be

confusions of an unreal past

living towards a fabricated future

denying the moment of now

too far removed from the present
ceasing to seize the moment 

every second a different prospected memory 

every memory 

a different perspective of the past

sometimes i be scatterbrain

every thought more conflicting than the last one
actions abruptly premeditated 

I asked God to reveal me to myself
he told me to let go of my past 

and to stop anticipating the future
live aware of the present moment 

to breathe as though i've been delivered 

Winter time blues.

Inspiration: This cold ass pre winter day in October
Word: Winter

I hate winter time
it reminds me of those sad ass days
when the cold only made shit worse-
and iced over sidewalks
with blood turned brown
and the residue of dirty caution tape

I hate winter time
and late packed ass Chicago buses
and the dry frozen salt on the back of hearses 
and tryin' to keep warm on the train

I hate winter time
cause it reminds me of legs slippin'
and bodies dippin'
and hot burning tear drops frozen over
from mother

I hate
the winter time
and cold black ashy hands
wanting for dinner
and for closure

I hate winter time
cause it feels like that good luck shit
that don't exist
den ran dry
and it's ice blue gray skies
make it seem like the sun den died

I hate winter
and how time passes slower
hard for the lonely loner

I hate the winter time
cause all I see
is them white pretty families
cuttin' down christmas tress
and broke and broken mamas
tryin' to make holiday
when ends don't meet

I hate the fucking winter time
it reminds me of harsh winds
and the infinite sound of doors closin'
and eviction
and all that other bullshit

I hate winter time
cause it feels like death stings deeper
standing over salted dead-land
and by frozen trees
and that walk back from RUSH still haunts me

I hate winter time
because trees don't seem to hide me
and snow tracks tell where to come fine me

and I hate January
because the start of a new year
redundantly brings back
memories kissed with neglect grief
and death

and I'm forever wantin' you to come back-

to fall,
when the September Sun
danced in your brown eyes
and your color changing body was only limp
but still patiently holdin' on

So I hate the winter
and how every year it only gets colder
and I'm further away from you in time