There is a boy who claimed to love me,
His hands would grab at my waist
Like his lust was cured with the touch,
But they roamed over every body
Within their grasp like explorers
Too afraid to settle down
Afraid they'd get bored with just
The landscape of my body
Just the mountains of my hips
The rivers of my hair
They'd tire of the hill of breasts
Of the lake between my legs
And so he never stayed for long.

I realize now he never intended to,
Always his plan was to leave
After he knew every inch of me
And I was stupid enough to
Hand him a map and mark my heart
Right in the middle just incase.
But I am worth more than my body
I am worth staying,
He is not worth baring all explorers
He is not the example for how
Every hand that touches me will end,
He will not be the last
And he most definitely cannot stay,
Not anymore.

Oh, unfair world we're living in,
poor people die for rich men's sins.
But don't despair, love always wins,
with love you'll never lose a thing.

When loved ones, called out, have to leave,
they'll still live in your memory,
they are still with you, every day,
and one day you'll see them again.

One day, one day Justice will come
and wash away the dreadful pain.
The sun will shine again one day
above the poor and innocent.

And rich men's gold will turn to dust,
no longer their joy will last.
One day, one day Justice will come,
and bring a smile and take you - home.

it wasn’t love
rather lust
a gentle hand
a breach of trust
a quickened breath
an easy lie
a dance with death
a hard goodbye.

I hear my mother
Yelling all the time
People wonder
Why I try to hide

I need a
Sanctuary
From all the judging eyes
Perhaps the
Cemetery
Will comfort me tonight

People ignore me
So I fade away
A shadow I'll be
But shadows can't stay

I'm only
Momentary
Soon I won't be alive
Hide in
The library
So no one sees me cry

I sit on the roof
Clutching my guitar
I'm not bulletproof
Words leave heavy scars

My friends are
Imaginary
But at least they care
My thoughts are
Fragmentary
I talk because I'm scared

Soon I'll disappear
Will you wonder why
Did you even hear
That I once was alive

Take me there          
where my breathing
can be mingled
with your dreams
Is it too far
Where you sigh
          &
   I turn Blue ?

All this must disappear -
crosswise minor roadways and
State Road with its bleating traffic,
plazas where pennies melt into
palms of Middle Eastern merchants,
Chinese, Nepalese, Indian or
what have you,
road signs for New York, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Toledo, Youngstown, Columbus, Sandusky or
what have you.
All this must disappear -
the heroin gardens
on Ohio River banks, railways rusted retired and ready to
sink silently into the soil and stone,
back yard above-ground swimming pool algae beds and front porch
family-festival fetanyl parades,
All this must disappear -
gas station dollar altars and
decaying or decayed Irondale tennant building windows, dirty,
community college self-defined
street scientists gathered in old
high school parking lots discussing
politics and the Pleiades and the fastest way out of the galaxy or the
slowest way into an easy death.
All this must disappear,
from Walnut Beach to Wheeling,
and the rust lift and assemble
into something lovely tomorrow's youth can work with, can love and
can sit atop the hills and smile and
be content in knowing while I
sit on the sidewalk and be
glad the future finally showed up.

you kept me strung up
like the memory
of the death of someone
you used to love
you used me up
you gave me just
barely enough
to keep me there
as a ghost melting
into the memory of
someone I used to know

Blind sided

Literally
In the blink of an eye
In the whisper of one word

You can lose everything
Without seeing it coming

With or without a warning sign
Somebody can leave you  behind

But thats the risk we take

Is it worth the break?

As I map the curves of your body with my lips, I listen to your moan slowly.
I hunger to taste every inch of your skin from toes to between your thighs to your soft cleavage till your lips.
Your cries with pleasure is my new addiction, vaporising my lust.

her body
buried with the goods
for a grave, mummified
found five layers down,
a 4,000-year-old
human being

in the desert
harsh climate with family.
her beauty and theirs too,
i'm easily imagining. on
her long, silky black
hair a cap

of white fur,
the same lines the shoes
on her feet, and there was
an intricately carved wood
phallus on her chest, on
her fallen breasts

over her heart,
a hint of her lust for life,
her bid for eternal fertility
in her dreams, how much
she  loved  and  wanted
to bring us into being.

One day God He called me,
He said, “Hey let’s drive away, to this place called Life”
I said, “Sure, why not?” So, I grabbed my things and agreed to the drive
When He was outside my door, He told me “buckle up, and stay beside me.”

And so I sat on the passenger’s seat, while He drove smoothly,
Past the up and down roads of Life, moving past the avenues of memories.
God smiled brightly at me while I watched my childhood went by,
And so He told me:  

“There are no brakes to hit on this drive
And there are no breaks when it comes to life,
You’ll either take this road or that
Make sure there’s nothing missing with what you’ve packed.

See all these road bumps that you have to drive across?
I’ll help you through them, as you drive to your destination.
I will guide you all the way, with me you’ll never get lost,
I’ll be with you all the way through life; I will be your direction.”

“The eagles should have been far seeing”
Was the last apocalyptic note she wrote
In her broken and trembling hand
Words that I tried so hard to understand.

What eagles? What sight could they have beheld
That might have brought back to her
A reasoned light to illustrate
Something other than her tortured mind
Worn fragile and thin by monsters,
Who starved, and beat, and raped,
A child.

Or would these brave and noble birds
Have donned armor in her defense
Flocking in hordes to peck out the eyes
Of those so vile that they would welcome,
Just to destroy,
The spirit of a foster child.  

Or did these eagles nest inside her womb,
As like a sweet salvation,
My spirit bloomed
For them to lift on soaring, golden wings,
And place gently in her arms,
A child more precious than the moon,
And all its diamond light,
Since in my tiny form she found the strength
To chase away the memories;
To hold back a schizophrenic night.

So, it was these birds who were short of sight,
Who gave a gift and flew away.
Abandoned in her time of need,
Her mind crumbling from the weight
Of something from which she was never, truly free,
And though we tried so hard to save her,
No one was strong enough;
Not even me.

It was doomed from the start.
Deadlines don't make for happy endings
or happy beginnings, but we made do,
the trickling sands tickling sans cesse
and the seasons passing by and waving
(good practice for tonight, I guess).
You'll be gone tomorrow.

What season would you be, then?
Midwinter spring, as Eliot said
or a Fall chill fighting summer?
One that makes us stay in bed
with the rain at our doorstep.
But seasons come back-
You'll be gone tomorrow.

I'll pray to the god of small moments
for the silences and your hands
for the absentminded kisses
-like that time we floated in a pool
under a cave, surrounded by oranges
and i thought: this is it-
You'll be gone tomorrow.

I did know what was coming
and I've tried to prepare
even though I'd have to stifle tears
when I made my way back home
skirting glances from strangers,
I did try. Will it be enough, I wonder.
You'll be gone tomorrow,

and yet.

Everytime I push my pen
I am moving mountains
Everytime I touch the keys
I will part the seas
Everytime you do the same
then we are creating
the liberal Science
of poetry

Sailing through the
midnight sky,
Sailing through the
midnight sea,
in a boat of moon.

Fishing for my dream,
so far
Fishing for my dream,
so near
My rope - a single moonbeam
and my bait- one silver star

The white wine was as warm as the day hot
From the ice bucket I dropped in cubes
That melted as fast as they were placed
Strong was the sun today
So fierce it was putting highlights into your Latin locks
Last nights mane of black hair was loosely tied at your neck to keep you cool
How beautiful you looked as you placed lavender out  to dry
Golden brown eyes focused on your twine
Lips still full from our second nap
Curls fighting to be contained by ribbon
Your figure shrouded barely by the thin white summer dress
In my bad french I told you how amazing you looked
Touching a butterfly that was printed on your summer gown
You smiled inwardly at first till your mouth parted
Bouquet de Provence filled my nose as I kissed your warm lips
You laid a finger on my cheek while you continued by
Returning to your flowers as I melted my ice

A sense of yearning moves her...
It was deep...excruciating.
That even flowers weep,
as she calls to him.
Still, unheard...unanswered.

"Where do you see yourself in five years?"
"Hopefully done with college"
"Married with a couple of kids"
"Buying my own house and starting a business"
"No debt. Everything, student loans and car payments gone"
The typical answers to that question
Want to know mine?
I never saw my future as bright
Hell never thought I'll get this far
I can see the end of my path
Where do I see myself in five years?
Depressed if I'm not already
Homeless because of my pride
Jobless because my stupidity
No one to turn to because of my negativity
Love is no where near me
That's the last thing on my mind
After food
After drink
After a roof over my brainless head
There's too much going on
No one will help me
Why would they?
It's all my own fault
So the answer to your question
In a different world
Hopefully a better one
After this one is behind me

If you have ever said money cannot buy happiness
You have not watched your father scream at God at 7 in the morning
Questioning his existence
As we get kicked out of
The second house that year
You've never waited for the first of the month
Every month
In order to eat something other than spaghetti
And dollar store hot dogs
You've never had your power shut off for an entire month
And watch as your family rips apart
Because your parents owe everyone money
You've never worked in order to buy the things that you need in school
Only to have your parents take that money, too
Do not tell me that I do not need money in order to be happy
When things only got better
After we finally had it

I am feeling like being chased
My numbers are growing
More and more
Like a sinking ship
It is leaving less and less space for the air for me to breathe

They consuming my space

But it should not be a problem
If only I found the 7th home
Living there whether it is hell or paradise

They say I'm running out of time

But my life is abstract
I am an abstract
A tangled threads

Maybe I'm lost
And I found the different home
A cozy one
Feeling safe
Waiting for the 7th home to find me

Quick! Call the poetic constabulary
I'm mincing words about my vocabulary
Help! I'm drowning in my thesaurus
evidence that i'm merely a brontosaurus

Listen up to my Greek chorus:
"Such silly word play should place her in poem prison
a ponderous place from which few have risen
Locked in the cell, losing her sense
consequence of writing with no poetic license"

Writing on with no reason or rhyme
just doing my poetic time
iambic meters bite me in the butt
trying to force me out of my sonnetic rut

stumbling on ideas most trite
all the pitfalls of making the choice to write

i am sick of writing poems
about skin color

but

please

bring back the child, his hair like cashmere. bring him back and we will mourn

ordinary dead things, dead like american pride for anyone who doesn't fly a confederate flag.

black things, things that are purer and more beautiful than we could ever imagine.

mourn the feeling his mother must of known. child. poof. gone.
he is no more.

just a shell on the floor, and the officer is given paid leave, hailed as a hero to the right wing, gun slinging, bible clinging majority that 

elected our president, and now will tear us apart
through protests, twenty two dead in manchester, stabbings on 

trains
bombs, steering planes into the world trade

forty nine dead in orlando, four dead in ohio
and it just goes on and on

we come out, with signs and voices
someone shoots us down

i want war, not to defend honor
but to bring back the boy

bring back the boy who once stole
just to pass the time

and take away the officer who thought
petty crime

was worth a life
or two

bring back the boy, the boy who is all of us
bring him back for all the others

the others who saw the black tongue of the bullet
in their final moments

and cried
for we are too worthy for a city of ash.

to love a poet
is to admit the world
is tragic

The sky of your skin
is a pearl...
a whisper
that leaves
me lush oasis,
fertile with sunrise and rain.

I love you
in the dark
where comfort
blossoms,
seeing you as a seed
from a star...

And no matter
how broken
your spirit is,
light always gives birth
to fire.

the rain is comfortable for hiding
it’s the loudest noise in the house
so they can’t hear my crying
thank you for being a shield

"I love you,"

I said.

He replied,

"Good night."

That night

I knew

what love was for me

was a dream to him