our hearts weep for this inhumane society that we live in
you say you care but we hear you cheering for evil and hate
you say you are a stand for righteousness but we see your arrogance

our hearts weep for the injustice to our communities
you say you care for our families but you throw rocks at us
you say you love our children but you trash their future

our hearts weep

If you ever miss me.
Come find me here.
Don't search too far.
I'm here.
I'm not lost.
I'm always here, in my poetry.

fcking freedom hell yeah

If there comes a time
that you might lose me
Find me in my poetry

And everything I struggle to put in words
Someone else certainly did before
And yet it still so hard
To come in conclusion with that
Nothing is really new
But I guess is still valid if is new to - you -

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

If I run scared in the meadows
If I cry underneath a willow,
Do you even care
Would you dare to follow?

You have seen me smile,
Have you ever listened to my cry?
Do you even care,
I bet you never dared.

The river is the first to mourn,
As I stand on the edge alone.
One last time,
To you I say goodbye.

Is it a secret,

that I might have one, and I –


therefore don't know it?

Once aging the growing urge
The undeniable building surge,
To put down what my mind spews out
Knowing the written word will still leave doubt.
For occasionally light but mostly dark,
I never quite meet the mark.
That's why I have a seeking of questing
Scheming, screaming, dreaminjg.
But never ever besting.
So I keep on trying until it withers again
Will it respawn, reborn?
Or will my death be forevermore?

I make my own soup and I kiss my own boo-boos,
I tell tall tales about love, hell, and voodoos.

I cover up my sadness with jokes, smoke, and malice
Who knew living a tragic life could feel so lavish?

God and I have a pretty tight relationship
I talk to him every night when my fingers touch my lips.

I throw my bones at dogs and contort my soul for fun,
Chewed up, spat out. I’m just like everyone.

-SLuR

You might not remember my name ,
but i am still the same .
I am The bright sunlight before the morning cloud ,
the silence before the storm ,
the wicker and the worm .

I am in the bough of a tree ,
that whispers through its falling leaves .
that branch is used as a seasaw that will not break ,
or bend .
The word that sharpens you’re tongue ,
before a sentence has begun .

I am the arrow that is plucked from you’re bow ,
that tells you’re target where to go .

For I am the oxygen you breath in the night ,
You’re unspoken  thoughts both in the day and of the night .
like you and I on a carousel on a hot summers day ,
those dreams will fly away .


I am in the rainbow that
that spreads far and wide ,
that tell the rain clouds
where to hide.

I am in the words “ I can’t be there “ ,
when that train pulls away ,
and you’re clasping thin air .
When the fumes from the train ,
fill you’re lungs full of smoke .
and the cabbie says “ just you my dear ?

And when you’re world is full of sorrow
I am the binding that holds tomorrow.
I will be the silver lineing when the clouds are still there .
I can be the ray of sunlight that beams from afar ,
that hears you’re prayers ,
that shines down on you’re coffin ,
when heavens doors are ajar .

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

"Mama said gonna be all right
But mama don't know what it's like in my mind
Mama said that the sun gonna shine
But mama don't know what it's like to want to die"

i still
do not know
the poem i've been trying to write
and maybe
that's because
i haven't been
writing one at all
or maybe it's because
the poem i've been trying to write
is not ready for paper
and maybe
i'm the paper
that's not ready for it

I spend too many nights thinking
Wondering, writing, dreaming
Of someone who doesn't even think of me

i spend my days
pouring myself into the cups of others

only to find that
when it’s time for myself
to take a sip

all that’s left
in my cup
is the remainder of a girl
who gave too much

Earth , you are so

Energetic
Abundant
Ravishing
Teeming
Hospitable


that we owe you  protection !

Soft and slow
Hard and fast
I fell for you
In future in past
Distance between
Inches apart
Breath to breath
Heart to heart
Silly nicknames
Lyrics sent
Secrets shared
All of it meant
Soul to soul
Laugh for laugh
My life is changed
I won't take it back

All is Nothing
Nothing is All.

"Is"  is  "Is"
And  "Is"  is not  "Is not"
For "Is  not"   is  "Is  not"

and vice versa.
Or versa vise.

For versa vice is its own
vice versa.

I traced the texture of your words
Like my heart was blind
And your voice was braille

She was a thrifted sweater and denim and jersey knit sheets
Pizza breath and red wine and toothpaste
Alabaster skin and knotted hair and freckled shoulders
A tangible dream and my favorite good morning
She agreed to let me kiss her and I agreed to let her slip my shirt over my head before she became
Blood and tears
"I trusted you" and "I’m sorry"
Midnight poems and a drunk "I need you"
I’m afraid I loved you like the way I wrote

Be like water.
Be fluid and transparent,
And have nothing to hide.

You.
Are.
A.
Walking.
Masterpiece.

My entire life,
I have been waiting.
For years,
Almost two decades now
I have been waiting.
Waiting,
For the better parts.
Waiting,
For the “soon”.
Waiting,
For my life to begin.
Because,
I don’t feel like I have lived.
In the nearly twenty years
I have been alive
And breathing
I do not feel
In any of those years
That I have been alive.
I don’t feel like a single breath
That I have taken
Has been real.
I feel as if
All these years
I’ve been stuck
Behind a window
Watching as my life unfolds
Before me.
I feel that
I have had
Zero control.
That I am in the backseat
Letting someone else drive.
That someone else,
Is writing on the pages
Of MY life.
But no more.
I will break that window,
I will take that wheel,
And I will write
My own pages.
My life has begun,
And now -
I’m in control.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you