Poetry

Granny

I grew up under a tree of knowledge
Who spoke both mother and father to me
When things got hard for me,
She was like God to me

So much so,
That I believed God was a female
And that man was made in Her image
Physical clues
Left in the nipples I don’t use
Understand,
I view my Granny spiritually

We connect digitally
She sends texts back and checks social sites
That would, kind of, make her my InstaGranny, right?
Right!
It’s who she chose to be –
The 65 year old
Scrolling through posts is how it’s supposed to be
Maybe, 65 just doesn’t seem old to me

She wears her age well
Walks with it
Cusses while she talks with it
I was raised in her home so she’ll die in mine
Forget nursing home visits

See, love limits don’t exist when it comes to family
I wrote my first poem when I was 6
Now I’m 26
And continue to write poems for my Granny

Poetry

It’s Way Bigger

In the midst of Seagram’s Seven
And sierra mist
Twisting illegal cigarettes,
All I can think about is how I feel
Hoping this dope
Provides enough dopamine
To motivate hope And bring dreams to reality

Or should I stay in a dream state?

Live inside eye-magination like
Imagine a place with no race
Seeing beautiful faces with appetites for
Love – Up above

In skies where time lies dormant
A place where, nobody’s conforming
To rigid lies that get pawned off as normal

What does my heaven look like?

Like midnight on New Years
Like new growth on old fears
I wanna be rooted again,
I don’t wanna leave,
I’d rather branch out
Far enough to touch those who
Think about leaving as bad as I do

Nobody wants love as bad as I do
I wanna meet my dream girl
Who sings like that “Sweetest Thing” girl
Mean,
Little body
Similar to Badu,
Oh soulful

With skin that glows emotions
Slow motion is everything when I’m around you
The inside of my chest is a snow globe
You low key.. shake up my intimate

See I fall in love with these images
Figure if I write enough sentences,
The universe will bring you to me
In the image of these verses

I wanna be in love again
Not outside it
Divided
Left in a cold room, quiet
Crying silent
Pushing limits on this highness, like
I’m dying to meet my Highness

Literally,

Every little piece of me is symmetry,
To something that seems to be

A whole lot bigger than me

Poetry

Separation

This floor feels harder than the inevitable decision I’ll have to make

Sleepless nights reflect more mind & less body
Physically, my body aches of uncomforted energy

Same thing mentally

The regret sets like the sunrise
Each morning contemplating would-be kisses of a normal routine
Doing my best to distinguish between good or bad habits

Too soon to tell I guess
Living in the space between heaven & hell,

I confess that
The emotional part of me is always biased to what ought to be
Wondering if your mind is busy with thoughts of me?

See I busy myself with everything But you:
Drinking
Smoking
And idle events that distract the strongest desires to touch you

I Fucking HATE
That I Loved You

I gave away the deepest parts of me

And although I try not to be bitter
I can’t help it

Sad to say that I have no interest
In being interested in anybody else
The way I was with you

You’ve made me so selfish
To not want to share the little bit of real love I have left because

NOBODY DESERVES IT

Most women tentatively flirt with ideas of having somebody perfect
In human terms

Me having flaws that would’ve disappeared with time and hard work
Instead,
The more time we spent, the harder the hurt
The harder it became to work through workable issues

Shirts I slept in became tissues
Refusing to miss you
Refusing to kiss you
Refusing to make lists of why I should stay with you

It’s funny how the “I Miss You’s”

Can quickly turn into the misused.

Poetry

Echo

I’ve never been rained on like this

Still soaking in the uncertainty

Droplets seemed to hit

The only part of my heart left umbrella-less

Exposed to a weather that isn’t as romantic

As it used to be

What do you do when you run out of what was

And the only thing left

Is the echo that didn’t used to be here?

Poetry

REVOLUTION

 

What will it take?
To awake from the dream where
Everything seems to be safe
But really isn’t

A place where
So many “isms”
Handcuff us to mental prisons
It
Isn’t
Supposed
To be this way!

Liberties being taken away
Day by day
Piece by piece
Making peace an impossible necessity

Our pedigree
Provided blueprints
For building character, not ignorance
These days,
The innocent have to submit to terrorists
That we voted for

Words like Moor
Don’t ring a bell anymore because
We’ve forgotten the lost art
Of thinking for ourselves

Instead,
We allow media to force feed us
Greed and other “needs”
For things that really don’t have any value

Some of us have no clue
As to what’s going on RIGHT NOW:
The toughest parts of our history
Are plowing its way back through

What will it take for YOU
To awake from the dream where
Everything seems to be safe
But isn’t?

A REVOLUTION