Each line overlays the preceding line,
Building a foundation to yours truly;
A passageway to bond your heart to mine,
With bridges of stanzas and roads of words.

A simile for your exquisite smile,
Like the luminous pearls from the oceans;
Or like stars that last in the night awhile,
Yet remembered for an eternity.

A metaphor for your beautiful eyes,
The way they would gently look into mine
And sometimes rained as clouds from the blue skies;
Out of security and happiness.

The  Deluge

Heavy  thundery  rain
Cascading  down  from  the  heavens.

The  sheer  volume  of  water
Causing  a  sinister  mist  across  the  rooftops.

A  waterfall  suddenly  fell
In  front  of  my  window.

The  gutters  unable  to  cope.

For  a  few  moments
It  felt  like  the  end  of  the  world.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

A master photograph
shot by a master photographer
hangs on the wall
A thousand mundane words
turned into one haunting frame
though it does appear
to be a tad askew
I think it helps.

He already forgot me
It's time I do the same

I'm a poet, beatboxer,
Gamer, Expert procrastinator
Hated
Loved
But not loved by you apparently.

You
Who sits behind the screen like a little *****,
Makes your profile private
So I can't respond to things like
"Exactly what I'd expect a 16 year old little ***** to say"
You only make me mad by your nature
Probably a 50 year-old ******* and troll
Who gets off by taunting younger ones
Because he's too much of a **** to pick on someone
His own size and age,
Having no friends or relatives that love him
Nobody that respects the ******* he is
Probably does drugs
Dropped out of school the year he learnt the word "****"
Didn't follow much of a lifestyle
Blew kids off for twenty bucks
I mean, money is money
Shares his mothers basement with twelve cousins,
Male and female,
That he ***** on the daily
The only action he really gets
And when they aren't there
Climbs out of his trollhole
To **** with the wrong people

They call me Phoenix
Because I roast beats
And pedophiles
Like yourselves

You got a reaction
Question is,
Was it what you expected?

I had planned on going out
To drink a little too much
To bury sense and love
Between the legs of lust and sin
I stopped at the bookstore
In between home and my night of debauchery
Drinking money in my wallet
Words in my hand

I nearly cried

Reminded of the injustice
That spreads its ugly colors
Throughout our human history
Just the thought of what so many had no choice but to endure
Just to survive day to day
The lives lost to hate and ignorance
Mothers grieving their children
Killed over nothing other than their color
The death toll only outweighed by the  burning blood of racism
Poets writing greater truths than lawmakers and politicians
Words filled with more love and compassion
Than the man wearing his false robes of god
Preaching condemnation while committing crimes against our children
Our ***** history at our fingertips
Sitting on the shelf
So much horror
So many more disgusting stories crammed and pressed between the pages
Not enough time in one life to read it all
My heart not big enough to forgive it all
And the only thing more haunting than the past
As I sit and look over these books
These lives
These minds
These hearts
Pages bleeding with pain and grief
As I look out the window on the second floor
Of this store

I nearly cry again

I see a world still stained
Still betrayed by hate
I see a world that hasn't
******* changed

I leave the store
My wallet empty
My heart heavy
Tears crawling out
And I drive back home

LA California
Starting on the bus
Just shy of 2,600 miles to go
Florida or bust!

All alone and slightly scared
I got into my seat
There was excitement in the air
Anticipation sweet

At 19 and still a babe
I was sure grass green
No carry-on to worry about
$20 in my jeans

I was a waif of a girl
Pixie-like and fey
The men-folk all were looking
As I got on the bus that day

Naive, I didn't notice
But the black woman, she did
Though she had 5 babes with her
Next to me she slid

That lady sure had carry-on!
Ice Coolers and bags
Her kids were toting it all on
Dressed in their best rags

They had the jitters in their legs
As in their seats they jumped
She was smiling, jovial,
Substantial and plump.

"How you doin', Missy!
Where you going to?"
"Clearwater, Florida" I said to her
"Hey, ma'am, how 'bout you?"

"A town in Mississippi
You wouldn't know the name,
But it's where I've lived my life
It's home just the same.

"What's your name then, Missy?
Lands! You're goin' far!"
"Ma'am, my name is Cathy,
Yep. This trip's gonna be hard!"

She said her name was Elsie
Her smile was sweet and good
She reached into her cooler
And broke out some food!

And what food! Hot Fried Chicken!
Fresh made that same day!
Collard greens and hush puppies
That gal fed me the whole way!

Corn on the cob and ice cold pop
Sweet potato pie
Best food I've ever eaten
I tell you no lie!

We did a lot of talkin'
Durin' that long ride.
I found out she loved Jesus
When she talked of Him she cried.

I didn't understand it
It was something that I missed,
Headed for Scientology
Raised an atheist.

It left a great impression
Though didn't know it then.
I accepted Him much later
And I remembered when.

She told me His value,
She told me His cost.
She got off in a town
You could throw a rock across.

I helped her with her baggage
Scared to be alone...
There was a ******* standing there
Eyes hard and cold as stones

I was so offended
"What you lookin' at?
He rolled his chaw within his mouth
Disdainfully he spat.

"At choo, ****** lover...
You is quaaht a sight
Movin' that ol' ******'s bags
Even tho you white."

"God bless you for sneezing".
I said acidly
"This lady needed her some help.
This country is still free".

"Don' mind him", Elsie whispered
And she was plainly scared
Not for herself. But for myself!
And for the feelings that I aired.

"Get back on the bus now!"
She gave the man a look
By then some of her men-folk
Had come over to help.

I got back on that Greyhound,
Just as I was bid,
Didn't know I was in danger
But that black lady did.

The rest of that trip was painful
When I reached New Orleans
My ankles were so swollen
They almost tore my jeans.

But I arrived in Clearwater
Tired yet unscathed.
I'll never forget Elsie
Who helped me on the way.


When I accepted Jesus
I will tell you frank
I remembered Elsie's witness

I have her to thank.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 7/3/2016