I think about the weightlessness of today. I hate erasure but what about a day that is weightless. How do you hold the air. How does one learn to see the stars during the day and draw a picture we all see? Why hold a star when you can be it?
When it’s way too cold, when all that can exist is this or being consumed. I chose being warmth itself. In pieces, smothered in you and all the same consumed in the warmth. A lullaby, In your center I sing For In the moments of erasure The petrified is limned in a hue known asContinue reading “Poem 3.10.21”
Woven through fingers In sin, a saint unadorned. Owed, you are, and am. Harlem outside of Marcus Garvey Park
I’m feeling the pitter patter of rainbow drops parading down my back. Can you still own a moment in time if you all at once consumed by it? I’ll drown in red and reach for violet clouds to a quiet ends before I know the answer.
“From me to you” is the first line. See, I wrote you a letter. And it’s true, that the parts signed with words like “us” Will feel hollow and fictitious, By time, my ink dries. And yet “you and I” will always Carry mercy “We” could never.
Write now. Nah, write now right now, make sure that thang pop. Go write your lines Refine your barsYour wit goes beyond thecodes you switch. Your tone’s fit, and drips in their ears. Your shit is a rich fit to be savored. Right now, clinched jaws are your applauseThey still ponderin your flavors, lost. WriteContinue reading “Poem 2.3.21”
I live in between breaths Hollow are my words, for haute hymns are felt before they’re heard and the dead’s echos are canon. A rhythm rises from the soil promising rapture. First line, felt as love, A second line, a round imitating the first is met Fool crowds gather, lured by a land’s echo ofContinue reading “A Land of Lore And Hymns”
Write down your nature Know that your shadow is wild Cloaked in plain sight, lore.
I remember learning the meaning of falling and silence when I first met you. You taught me how beautiful a Fall could be. I learned under the night’s glow what my heart does when it’s quietly elated. I remember learning the meaning of failing and silence when I last saw you. You taught me howContinue reading “Poem 01.28.21: If I Wrote about You, it be a Fail.”
Lie to you for fun? Most underwear are racist. It’s not from their jeans.