the transcendence of life
has a sweet taste of ultra light beams
and the happiness that comes after strife.

to know that life and flesh
does not bring pain or tears
is the feeling of life after death.

the effects of karma
are no longer a factor on the soul
this is what it feels like to lay in nirvana.


- t.m

next time you see me slit my throat
let my blood gush like it did on american streets
mute my screams like i did while the news got old
let your knife **** the silence and ignite the need for equality.

next time you see me pull the trigger on my foolish mouth
shut me up while i complain about my silver spoon
while children die of empty stomachs in the south
let the gun sound wake up people like me to reality.

next time you see me lynch my body
let it hang like decoration to show people that
the silent are like the violent
the mute are like police who shoot
the ones who are quiet while they feast on a meal
are like the crooked politicians who steal.

let my silence be the death of me
and my new found voice be the death of the thoughts of our enemy.



- t.m

please dont touch my crown
the black rubies were encrusted by steve biko
madam cj walker made it a sign of royalty
blood was shed for this ***** hair
i am a servant to this crown, and i will show my loyalty.

please dont touch my crown
i can feel the curlism in your fingers
your greedy hands appropriate it for relevance
you have hated volume and colour for centuries
but now you see beauty where you once saw pestilence.

please dont touch my crown
let your eyes feast on the sight of true glory
forget about vanity, and hear our chains
taste our dry blood, smell our lynched bodies
but never touch our hair without remembering our pain.

- t.m

my heart is a rebel to this world
like liquid overflowing
pouring over and clothing the exterior
my love leads the way
and this world follows.


- t.m

a new being, i can feel my changes
dark skies, the light moon and my new phases
a jail bird, tasting the sky far from my cages
i needed you, to bend the bars that hinged my purge
your modest black, let me illuminate this earth
the quiet writer, you let your protagonist have the first word.

- t.m

in my eyes
you were my winged icarus
who kissed the sun
and caressed the waters
of my affection.

but your eyes lingered as you searched for
a second solstice
and the softness of the ocean
in someone else when you thought you deserved a deeper connection.


- t.m