Friday, December 31, 2010

Lady Blue

Lady changed
Melodious whispered voices
Teasingly beckoned
Out hands your reach
Lovers of sea
Water adrifted on waves
Alone forever
Mine of love retired
But pretty words
Painfully felt
Never again
You cannot awaken
Even though ink called
Penned passion
Of known man
Man known of
Penned passion
Called ink though even
Awaken cannot you
Again never
Felt painfully
Words pretty but
Retired love of mine
Forever alone
Waves on adrifted water
Sea of lovers
Reach your hands out
Beckoned teasingly
Voices whispered melodious
Changed lady


The weight of the world
Straddles my dreams
And pins down my shoulders
Until I can’t breathe
My pulse is shallowly drawing
Stars behind my eyelids
Until I want to scream
And each night I am afraid
That only my heart will hear
To heed my command
For to pause before waking
May be my last thought
So I continue to struggle
With the pressure of your leaving
Amazed that pain feels the same
Whether asleep or awake
Yesterday or tomorrow
Until I want to box my ears
To keep from hearing your voice
Scrub my hands
Til they no longer feel your skin
And slap the taste of you
Out of my own mouth
Will my soul then be calmed enough
So that I can sleep without

Saturday, October 23, 2010


Herald times
When I waited
At the edge of shore
For your hands to find me
I shall always welcome you
And anticipate your return
You give me the able confidence
As the women who know satisfaction
Resonating the smile of fulfillment
Fueling my linguistic libido
Words to incite and verbs to taste
Open your arms and let me
Pour myself into you
Every drop splashes
Running over
You to

Poet (slammed)

I listen to your words

Angry, sullen and revolutionary words

You want change


You want it now

I hear your words

You scream at the injustice

Of your childhood

Absent father

Drug addicted sister

And you had to eat free lunch at school

I taste your words

Bitter and hungry at the same time

You wound the ear

In tirades

Leaving a trail

Of vowels

Not ink

For that last too long


Which you are against

Form and substance

Eaten and spewed back out

I smell your words

Categorically denied

That you are also tomorrow

For tomorrow brings a new fight

A new struggle

Found deep

In your recycled bag

Of hemp and straw and lies



You rally for the latest buzz

I feel your words

Tight and hot

Quick and sharp words

Thorns on rose bushes unseen

Bleeding out the ones without knowledge

And then you leave for the next

March, next stage

In your gas guzzling SUV

Starbuck coffee in hand

A “spoken word” artist

And over your shoulder

You loudly accuse me of being

A “poet”.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010


With emotions mixed
Broken then shattered
Close persons lost
Heart emulated
Is beyond repair
Insightful of link of
Varied directions
Only time healing
Things all hold
Singular places
Inner peace
Reflects words
As mirrors
Broken heart
Broken mirrors as
Words reflect
Peace inner
Places singular
Hold all things
Healing time only
Directions varied
Of link of
Insightful repair
Beyond is
Emulated heart
Lost persons close
Shattered then broken
Mixed emotions with

Sunday, October 3, 2010


Today I turned on my heat

Just a small flick of a button

And it was suddenly autumn

More than fall,

That happened when I

Turned off the air conditioning

But autumn

When a cool equinox occurs

And Saint Martin no longer smiles

In sunny warmth

Today I turned on my heat

The whispered tepidity

Stirred still green leaves

That jumped off branches

Too soon

In stead of waiting on new color

That would allow them to drift

Gently into mis-organized leaves

On the browning grass

Today I turned on my heat

The solemnity of change

Not loss on my body

My ankles need socks

They decry the cottons of summer

And long for argyles and woolens

I unpack flannels

And a bevy of long sleeve shirts

Today I turned on my heat

And the weight of a year

Fell across my shoulders

Autumn has brought me back

To the season of wearing socks to bed

And although I turned on my heat

It’s your warmth that I need

Sunday, September 26, 2010

detente dreams

Yellow crinkly edges

On once green glossy leaves


As dust on a bookshelf

The volumes contain all

The knowledge in the world

And yet who knows

Of a lover’s slip

Hanging below the torn hem

Of yesterday’s party dress

Strap slipped down

To the crook of her elbow

A day that was once known

As a good time not had

Has slipped into the night

To not be had by all

Though my longing is keen

I have never seen a hurricane

But its perfume is heavy

Threatening to crack a rainbow

Into prisms of dirty light

The very smallest of which

Can make the sun bleed

Its drops staining my tears

Unshed in my obstinacies

To believe that I have not

Been flicked off as rain

On an oft opened umbrella

And left standing, forgotten

Waiting to be touched

Moments roasted brown

In nutmeg tinged flavors

Dry and arid

On desert altars

Rocks and sand drifts

Slowly through sifting

Out wants from needs

Of adobe colored dreams

For maybe desires

Have nothing to do with

The faith of promised good

And everyone must learn

That NO is an answer too

Monday, August 30, 2010


Water caresses psalmody
Wearing the rough edges away
Smoothing weariness into the
Curves of the porcelain basin
A gurgling cacophony of clean
Blends with twilight cricketsong
Pooling into the deep recesses
At the hollow of my spine

The quality of my pleasure
Outweigh my need to rush
The sensual distillery of lavender
And the smell of your memory
At the bend of my knee
My heart stills to prayers
I am not daunted by unfinished chores
Nor am I troubled any longer
By the rush of daylight minutes

Quietness fits across my shoulders
Like a favorite afghan
Against the summer breeze
An anthem rich in coolness
And solemn in need
My absolution is committed
Into your breast
For I remain eager to see your hue
In iridescent hummingbird wings
And the azure of open seas

Miles stretch into dismissal
A solemnity of confession
Ancient is the desire for comfort
And the completion of togetherness
I would have the feast and the rest
As I enter into this night’s slumber
My soul longs to bridge the distance
And finally unite our lives
As I have committed my heart to you

I see you...etheree

See you
Hanging near
The dark corners
On my vision’s edge
A shadowy dream
Although I am awake
And going about my day
I can never shake the feeling
Of wanting you to really be here
And not just living in my memories


You are one of me
Raised in a house of woman
Periods and mood swings
And no balance
To the tears and loves lamented
Dresses, wigs and make-up
Incognegress on the bus
Looking straight forward
Less the driver looks too long
Or looks too less
For who doesn’t want to be desired

You are one of me
Giving off that sense of indifference
Ankles crossed at the knee
And hosiery snug and trim
Just a hint of slip at the hem
Cause your momma raised you
Not to go round bare-legged
Torpedo breast ala Jane Russell
Catching the glance of married men
And the scorn of their wives
And the wishes of pubescent children

You are one of me
Waiting for the pad of a man’s thumb
To wipe tears across your cheek
To caress your face lovingly
I cannot love hard enuff
To cover my scars
And neither can you
For every new man
Picks at the edges of each one
Until you scream with the relief
Of having it ripped off, again

You are one of me
Thinking you deserve the pain
Of the women who has never
Known the luxury of
A man’s unconditional love
So we engage badly
In search of the filling
For the many wholes in our soul
Our tribe closes in on itself
And it is the rare man
That can breach our perimeter

Monday, August 9, 2010

Anticipation...clarity pyramid


Felt as



Of the feeling of you

Encapsulating my all

“Wrapped up in waiting for you”


Afternoons were made

By a lazy hand

Calling us to stop

Daytime chores

Evening is still

Far away

Gates and posts

Herald a waning day

Isis has passed over

Just as the wind plays with

Kites across the stream

Landing them on shores

Moonscapes pull at desires

Needs surface beckoning

Our spirits together

Please approach me

Quickly while I am

Relaxed in anticipation

Stretched languidly across the bed

Testing how muscles play

Under a sheen of sweat

Visualizing your hands across my hip

Waist spanned by your fingers

Xylophones play in the eaves

Your music of lust uniting

Zion to earth

My hands

my hands move against the wind
lines drawn across my palms
like so many days lived
in the shadow of water, wind and sun
my hands are no longer delicate
the nails broken and knuckles wide
in turn frostbitten and sunburned
my hands flutter when I speak
capturing the words I say
turning them over and over
gifting a few and holding others
for I might need some again
my hands are the last thing to sleep
after they turn out the lights
adjusting the covers and pillows
again and again
reaching and smoothing me
my hands worry me
with their constant searching
I try to busy them with poetry
but they know and I do too
that they won't be content
until they are in yours

Tuesday, August 3, 2010


1 in 5
1 in 6
6 of one
6 is half
half dozen
broken dozen
dozen ova
dozen tears
tears track
tears remind
remind me
remind you
you must not
you relive
relive auctions
relive chains
chains bind
chains mark
mark heritage
mark possession
possession of flesh
possession of child
child not mine
child torn
torn from breast
torn from sight
sight of sky
sight of blind
blind eyes
blind faith
faith in one
faith in none
none heard
none spoken
spoken not
spoken loud
loud bells
loud clamor
clamor at dawn
clamor at dusk
dusk of skin
dusk of hollow
hollow soul
hollow bones
bones broken
bones spirit

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Winding sheet


Passion from

You consecrate me

Emission of raw king

Finest of perfume

From sacred beginning

More any anointing womb

Water scented float cycles negative

Pressing near

Before eyes closed and

Cotton wrapped

Winding sheet


Sheet winding

Wrapped cotton

And closed eyes before

Near pressing

Negatives cycles float scented waters

Womb anointing any more

Beginning sacred from

Perfume of finest

King raw of emission

Me consecrate you

From passion



Wraps around your heart like a front porch

Cool in the evening just perfect for settin

And rocking in wide chairs, so your feet

Can be tucked up under you, and a skirt

Riding high on your thighs, cause it’s hot

Drinking Iced tea and water and maybe

A cool bowl of summer fruit cut up and

Eaten with your fingers, plain and simple

Easy to handle, easy to eat, easy to feel

The love swaying on the light breeze

Leaving the outside when the night has

Grown as black as your skin kissed by the sun

Loving your hand in mine in, an invitation

To join you on top of the covers for quiet

Talk about the day, work, life, plans

Stretched out beside you, long legs over

Mine, head on your chest, hand feeling

Each individual beat of your heart

Love frees another star in the sky

From the clear blanket of darkness

It is the moon dancing and the slow sound of

Insects in the grass, the wind chimes in the breeze

Love smoothes out my words and my kinks

Fresh cotton, fluffy pillows, and the ceiling fan

The promise that you will be here in the morning.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Umbrella Seeds

I feel the heat on the sidewalk

Radiating up through the stone steps

Sitting there playing school

With rocks and chalk

Waiting on the fireflys to come out

And dance among the broken bottles

And rocks and us, twirling

Walking to school on broken sidewalks

Morning school, lunch

And afternoon school

Tornado drills in the hallways

And naps on mats, before recess

Sandwiches always and Jay’s potato chips

white and chocolate lunch ladies

The clock in the neighbor’s kitchen?

Felix, I think, black and white

Swish and swoosh, tick tock

Plastic on the sofa and chairs

Black and white table in the kitchen

Where juice cups sit and crackers

Mrs. Miller standing guard in the door

Back porches and stoops

Rickety stairs and closet tents

Creature Features and sneaky twins

Dark shadows and beating hearts

Rappidy rappidy beat beat, sweat

Big staring eyes in a small face

Screams! Laughter! I’m telling!

Emergency room visits

How many tasty orange candies

Did you eat little one?

These many, with palm up and open

The nurse said they only taste good with soda

And we wanted some too at first

But momma said no, just for little one

White lace and taffeta

Stretched all the way down the hall

Measuring and cutting away years

Snipping carefully so nothing is forgot

Not the slightest laugh, nor the smallest tear

Piecing together white space for

New stuff to be stitched in

Sisters, women, girls, mothers, ladies

Fancy, sassy, smart and pretty

All in one, place, space, heart, life

Four, three, two, three, one

Nothing stops the rain, but dammit

With grace and crass, meds and sun

We can sow colorful umbrellas

Sunday, June 20, 2010

My gardener, my love

Will plant
My roots deep
In your garden
Trusting you to care
For the weeds that may grow
Even in sheltered places
Pain may catch a ride on the winds
Scattering the tears in its wake
It is then that I will need your sunshine

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Adam's Reqium

Permission for use of original artwork granted by Treason

Adams’ Requiem


……… Witness the Father’s creation, Adams.

How furrowed his brow with the intensity of being

The soul human, made in the image of truth, man

Hear us Abba Father, grateful that you felt the need

To bring us into perpetuity through this one.

Grant Adams rest, oh Lord, for the burden they have borne

The struggles of a nation of people scattered across the earth

Your people, who have felt oppression, racism, hatred and scorn

Whose only transgression was their place of birth

Though the hurt is not forgotten, the healing has begun.

Kyrie eleison

Lawd hammercy

Dies Irae

We have witnessed your goodness in the fruition

Of the dreams deferred in a multi-hued world

As told to Martin and Daniel and other possessors of cognition

For You are our rock and we cherish Your unfailing love

Carry Adams to your bosom, Lord, to take their rightful rest

Infuse in us strength to carry the torch forward.

The victory of this day is not an end to the struggle

Not just one only is charged to keep on keeping on

It is for everyone to let our hearts be troubled

And to help all who you appointed get the job done

Thank you Lord for all the Adams that looks like us.

Christi eleison

Christ hammercy

Pie Jesu

O sweet Lord Jesus, grant Adams’ rest;

Grant them everlasting rest.

Kyrie elesion

Lawd hammercy

Libera me

Liberate me to continue through this discontent of summer tears

Open my eyes to the plane of dignity, discipline and my soul force

Let me seek the satisfaction of justice that rolls down like the waters

Show me the righteousness that flows like a mighty stream source

Let us know Oh Lord that our dream is an American dream

We don’t want to be brooding over what’s behind, or looking dejectedly down

When the next four years have gone and from this day we have passed

Liberate me to look into the future, shouting out grateful and loud

Free at last, free at last, Thank God Almighty, we are free at last.


Grant Adams eternal rest Abba Father, may your everlasting shine

Not only on Adams, but direct that light into our hearts.

For you are merciful and just in your own time.

Help us to keep our faith, help us to do our part.

So it was written, so it was uttered, so it be done.

One More Time

I sat apart from you on the bench
Knowing that you were going away
Everything felt green, forest green
The air, the wood, the taste in my mouth
The butterfly’s colors faded into immaturity
A seedling unsprouted from the lack of sun
Lay dry and unplanted on the sidewalk
Brown, so very brown and wrinkled

You talked or at least your mouth kept moving
The words stretched out into a sad whisper
Wrapping itself around the blades of grass
Nudging up through fun summer sandals
I wiggled my toes to dislodge the nouns
Slowly pushing away the verbs and adjectives
So the nail polish wouldn’t get smeared
On my red, vibrantly cherry red toenails

The wind played in the loose hair at my ear
Blocking out unpleasant sounds and noises
Of anything that I didn’t want to hear
Like how you were leaving for my sake
But the breeze took the s and left only ake
Winding shhh’s through the collar
Of the crisp white cotton of my shirt
A dozen buttons, 12, all lined up

Patiently I had been waiting for yellow roses
For the postman to deliver desire
Leaving it wrapped in brown craft paper
With a notecard like all florist do
Lying in wait for me after a long day’s toil
Verdant glossy leaves spelling words
Connected to strings controlling
The rise of the sun, warm morning sky

I felt you touch my hand imploring me
To meet your eyes and to understand
Though I could only see that weathers
Had begun to change to less sunny blues
The clouds in the sky darkened pregnant
Rain captured above snow white crests
Released as crystalline tears on hard ground
My heart has done it to me one more time

Friday, June 11, 2010

Fisher of Men

Drum sound
Drum beat
Beat rhythm
Beat time
Time passed
Time measured
Measured years
Measured striped
Striped fields
Striped back
Back beating
Back biting
Biting tongues
Biting hands
Hands clenched
Hands free
Mason builds
Mason casts
Casts fears
Casts net
Nets sifted
Sifted boys
Sifted men
Man molded
Man made
Made aware
Made honorable
Honorable talents
Honorable life
Life forsaken
Life redeemed
Redeemed purpose
Redeemed pride
Pride of lions
Pride of faith
Faith upheld
Faith believed
Believed strong
Believed passed
Passed lessons
Passed code
Code of men
Code of the fisher

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Coconut Bunny Cake

3rd grade is a big year for little black girls
growing up on concrete pads in big cities
going to neighborhood schools under
eyes of neighbors who kept watch
eyes of aunts who kept us clean
eyes of the bricks counting cadence
so we were never late to school

3rd grade is big year for little black girls
living in poor walkup stone apartments
with so very many gypsy children
playing in vacant lots of cut glass
playing under blankets in bedrooms
playing in the high heel shoes of mothers
pretending to be like the white Barbie

3rd grade is a big year for little black girls
struggling to believe nappy hair is beautiful
hoping to believe in the after school specials
to believe that Officer Friendly made us safe
to believe that pink skates made us cool
to believe we could be more than Julia on TV

3rd grade is a big year for little black girls
when you are an oddball for being smart
when you have to be tough to make it
and you are picked to bring cupcakes
and your mother brings a store bought cake
and you know you are her little black girl

Thursday, May 27, 2010


Slave woman
Strong teeth, fertile worker
Curves chocolate and enticing
Taste to quench white and arid thirsts
Enslavement Cleopatric
Captured senses at crumbled empires
Antonian defeat
Colorfully swirled skirts though palms of trees
Sifting sands on varied horizons
We are Walkien and Hurstonian, Bethunenistic Anderson
Woman of renaissance
Holding fists against ceiling glass
Creating fissures
Words are we
Spoken, written, sang, shouted
Words spelled on ample hips
Lips, breasts, calves full
Brooks Angelouan on baked dancers
Rhythm lived above afros
Sexy power
Praying colored mothers
Evangelists yellow hatted
Stars from Eastern facing winds
Enough are rainbows
We live
Live we
Rainbows are enough
Winds facing Eastern from stars
Yellow hatted Evangelists
Mothers colored praying
Power sexy
Afros above lived rhythm
Dancers baked on Angelouan Brooks
Full calves, breasts, lips
Hips ample on spelled words
Shouted, sang, written, spoken
Words we are
Fissures creating
Glass ceiling against fists holding
Anderson Bethunenistic,, Hurstonian and Walkien are we
Horizons varied on sand shifting
Trees of palms through skirts swirled colorfully
Defeat Antonian
Empires crumbled at senses captured
Cleopatric enslavement
Thirsts arid and white quench to taste
Enticing and chocolate curves
Worker fertile, teeth strong
Woman Slave

Walled dreams

Bright lights

Bright promises

Promises futures

Promises days

Days to wait

Days to dream

Dreams realized

Dreams inspired

Inspired blindness

Inspired vision

Vision of past

Vision of future

Future of elders

Future of youth

Youth complain

Youth contained

Contained in ghettos

Contained in mountains

Mountains have aged

Mountains give way

Way to rebar

Way to structure

Structure of laws

Structure of lands

Land divided

Land eroded

Eroded hopes

Eroded dollar

Dollar to spend

Dollar to save

Save the building fund

Save my soul

Soul cries out

Soul dies out

Out to pasture

Out to lunch

Lunch time paid

Lunch time taken

Taken to eat

Taken to smoke

Smoke cigarettes

Smoke weed

Weed grows in dirt

Weed grows in concrete

Concrete walled

Concrete dreams



Through the looking glass

Alice said
I am
When I cannot see I
What should be there?
Visioning said rabbit
Glass reflects
Not why
Or wants
Us as we are
Lives of dreams defaulted
Betterment hopes
Days after resolutions
Resolution after days
Hopes betterment
Defaulted dreams of lives
Are we as us
Wants or
Why not
Reflects glass
Rabbit said visioning
There be should what
I see
Cannot I
When confused
Am I
Said Alice

Tuesday, May 25, 2010


Every man is born of woman
Of mothers and grandmothers
Aunts and sisters
Nurtured in the belly of hands
Palms to palms held close
Inter-joined and together
Touching hearts and souls
Becoming one with the world
Born of prayer, of God
A desire for us
In that we can ever continue
To be raised up in the image of love
Before your name was spoken
I knew that you would be called to me
A legacy provided at the dawn
I never understood how my mother
Felt about the birth of your father
Until now
When I look to the east for your arrival
Like the anticipation of the sunrise
After a restless night’s turning
My hands await the curve of your fingers
I want to hold your soft face against mine
I want to smell of your innocence
And kiss the top of your head
To feel your little heart beat rapidly
As if you are in a hurry to grow up
And yet I would not have you afraid
To Live Good
To experience all that life has to offer
The exceptional, the bad, the tiresome
I want you to know the people I love
So I will endlessly tell you stories
While you sleep in my arms, on my lap
And often beside me in church
I will give you poetry, my words
And even though I cannot sing
We will raise the rafters in voices
We will call out prayers
And yes, the humming jones
For happy has its own unique sound
It is the sound of God
It is the sound of family
It is the sound of me
Saying I will love you always.