Afterthought (3)

Watch wistful white kisses

diminish down depths of destitute-

sing my rhythmic freedom,

i’ve got blood cuffed ‘round my neck

(rings of burnt lines)

sour hunger,

and ungratefulness

keep me like they taught you

with smooth touches and deep

strokes holding together, breaking honesty. 

The love of mine-

All gone, burnt up, far from

you now

real dead, deeply blue

keep me like they taught you

knives hung over pure white snow

rough ravished and touched

destroyed, like you

keep me like they taught you

haunting me, with chilled hot eyes

(choking everything)

swallowed up on bitter salvation

swung down, deep down

bitter, emptiness

it rains here sometimes,

in May

in no man’s land

i sit, and let tears patter down

on the rooftops of your head

i sit

you stand in puddles of quick fear,

and lust

keep me like they taught you

i feel coupled whispers round dangerous lips

touching me smooth

stroking me deep

i’m quiet, still

keeping me like

I taught you

Things I've learned as of 2014

to smile in the midst of the storm

to nurture the me that i am

to appreciate my reality

to be in control of my mind

to cultivate positive energy
in an atmosphere of negativity

to be thankful for what’s real

to laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh

to trust

2 dance like no one is watching

nd write like no one is reading

to be honest with everything

to speak, up

and thank God for the unseizing downpour
of love  

2 be humble

2 be thankful

2 give

On a Tuesday

You just sat
        -on that chalk choked sidewalk
at ease, lost in your own bewilderment
                                                          -cooly
the sun kissing you sweet, dancing
on the top of your cheek bones
I saw you,
               as beauty
together- our heads poked in clouds
dreaming of change
making ourselves a catalyst
wrapped in one dream
exchanging new thought,
and fantasizing.
Smiling girlishly, bundled in laughter
-young
thirsting for the promises of life
appreciating our moment in time.

Wilderness

7-10-13

My mind feels so stale,
i can't write nothin' or feel nothin'

my round brown identity is painted on canvases
and laid over notepads

parts of me are stacked-high
spread frequently through powered clouds
i sat one day, thinking', heavily of a day
when sunshine would come covered in moonlight
blinding my unready eyes with God's idea of beauty-

you ever wonder if moonlight come before daybreak
and daybreak before dawn
and if limbo is our looping present, and if heaven be tomorrow-

i wonder on things
still-
contemplate moving
and my parts covered in chocolate skin
heated by the constant of sun breaking onto my face
at the sweet part of a bitter day

i think in circles

In love with you

I want to love you, self

ferociously alive like clovers do

green and plentiful in front lawns

and through sidewalk cracks-

I've watched you laugh

hurt bad too-

Get wind from hot air balloons

disguised as colored, rainbows too

spread across whipped backs

and broken oversized shoes-you

we've made it

 you and I-

self I'm falling in love with you.

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.