We cried into the darkness
to drown out the voices of hatred
But the darkness did not wane
The light we thought we saw was artificial
Cold LED's held in traitor hands
hands that claimed to pull us up
while seeking to push us down
The voices that called back
"sit down, shut up!"
shrunk to deceive us
"speak up, stand up!"
rang above them and gave us false hope
Now again they cry louder than before
"sit down, shut up!"
This was never our America
They held the reigns in secret,
two fingers twisted as they lied through their smiles
"We love you!"
With a knife held behind their backs
"Why don't you love us?!"
As the knife comes down,
as the fingers untwist and the smiles turn to snarls
As we bleed and cry out in pain and they say:
"Sit down, shut up...
It will only hurt for a second."
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 7:01 AM UTC
My skin is a crime
Freckles and scars
Lines marking growth from child to woman-
All hideous, lame, worthless
"Imperfections", they betray me
My skin is a secret
Sacred, coveted
Show some, show none
Inches marking me:
***** or ****
My hair is a war cry
Each must be silenced, snuffed
Lest I start a war, a political cry
They say it is "personal preference"
Even as strangers scorn with their gazes
My hair is beautiful
Only if it is on my head
Long strands are flags of white
Neutral, surrender
Short locks cry rebellion
My womb is mandatory
"I want grandchildren!"
"How can you not want kids?"
"You'll change your mind one day"
"Women are meant to be mothers"
My womb is not mine
It is my lover's
My family's
My country's
An unborn's
My skin is a crime
My skin is a secret
My hair is war
My hair is surrender
My womb is mandatory
My womb is not mine
My body is a battleground
And I will always lose this war
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 11:59 PM UTC
A-howl came the wind
and a-whirl went the leaves
at her arrival:
Sweet Autumn.
My dearest, sweet Autumn
fall upon we with your bliss;
your chill that ravages my flesh,
yet warms my soul.
Come, sweet Autumn
paint the trees and undress them,
leave them dancing bare
for your sister Winter's delight
Oh, but how soon you are gone!
The Ice Queen comes too soon,
steals the warmth in my soul
and leaves only the chill bitten down to my bones.
Return to me, oh Autumn
when this year has gone,
and young Spring and Summer have hidden away--
my dearest, sweet Autumn.
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
I cannot write a poem today
Because the weather isn’t quite right
It would really be a fight
To write a poem when the weather isn’t right.
I cannot write a poem today
Because I am feeling so sore,
My back aches, hands cramp—oh mercy, no more!
Oh no, I simply cannot write with everything all sore.
I cannot write a poem today
Without my cup of tea
I’m thirsty and cross, you see,
Without my cup of tea.
I cannot write a poem today
Because the floors are creaky
And the door is drafty, and the roof—I fear—is leaky.
No, no, I cannot write today while the floors are creaky.
I cannot write a poem today
Because the mail is coming,
Surely when the doorbell rings the sound will send me running.
Oh, I cannot write a poem when the mail is coming.
I told you, and I’ll say again
Why I cannot write not now or then;
I cannot write a poem today
Because of the stormy clouds,
My body’s sore,
and without my cup of tea,
the creaky floors,
and then mail well on its way.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 11:11 AM UTC
Poetry is dying,
as surely as I am dying
as you are dying
Each word read is a new breath
life-sustaining air to inky lungs
but breath must be freed
and when it goes we are closer to death.
To live a moment more
then die a little more
we die forevermore.
Poetry as dying,
as surely as the sun dies when she sets
as the moon dies when she sets.
Poetry is dying while it lives in our hearts
it's washed out from our minds
as we die--as surely as we die.
Our poetry is dying
but new words will be born
as surely as babies are born.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 6:45 PM UTC
Like sunlight on dew drops, shine bright as a star
my sweet dear, wherever you are
if light be gone to let you 'lone
know you'll always find your way home.
Oh love of loves, sweet love of mine
of all things you are most fine
And lovely love, true love of me
t'is your face I swoon to see.
And if our ways by fate must part
take with you my humble heart
and let not all the miles of this earth
keep me from your warming mirth.
Oh love of loves, sweet love of mine
of all things you are most fine
And lovely love, true love of me
t'is your face I swoon to see.
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 4:18 PM UTC
How long until there's change--
even as we scream in outrage?
How many innocents have gone
and yet we still just carry on
Open your eyes
overcome the lies
we are the ones to blame
for this wretched, wicked shame
The filth is in our hearts
tearing us apart
in selfishness we're blind--
have we all lost our minds?
how many fallen from villains' hand
yet we all demand
"They're the ones profane!"
to avert the rightful blame
we hoard our deadly weapons
for the sake of prideful brawn
yet children fall and still we say
"they simply went astray."
there is darkness in us all--
though the fact may appall
but perhaps without the means
we may not be death machines...
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 11:55 AM UTC
I wonder if you take a look
to listen to my words,
to listen to each passing phrase
the music that they make.
the sorrow of each fleeting note
I whisper to the wind,
the plot I weave of heart-felt tale
will lead me home again.
Oh listen, can't you hear the sound
the sound of falling tears?
they shatter in the chilling wind
poignant, yet so fragile.
So do you ever take a look
to read inside my heart?
or is it far beyond your care
of things to you are dear?
I wonder if you ever hear
the sound of crying notes
that drift and dance from trembling lips
that mourn forever more--
At least, they mourn forever more
if you would so allow
my heart to drown in frozen tears
and dying, dancing notes...
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 12:02 AM UTC
My mind could not conceive
for what crime I had commit
upon judgement, to receive--
what punishment I was befit.
And yet I am to blame
for something I cannot name--
and you all the while proclaim
it is I who is profane.
But I was made to believe,
made to grieve
for whatever I had weaved
that I knew not of having achieved.
Oh, how I did submit
I wept--in nightmare I slept
to crime unknown I did admit
cruel "justice" I did accept
Where can I find reprieve?
If of your grace I am unfit,
for some things I cannot tame?
who then between us is truly inept...?
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 11:28 PM UTC
Morning, sun
don't run
let's have us some fun
before the day's done
Swinging breeze
ticklin' my knees
swayin' them high trees
all the way it please
Ah what heat
take a seat
hear the beat
come, have a treat
Turn off the light
feelin' alright--
make the room bright
there's no time to fight
Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 5:01 PM UTC