the feeling of powerlessness
that turns good men
cruel

-you know the oldest lie in history? is that power can be innocent

i wont glorify or romanticize heartbreak
for me it was a kind of death
and i was forced to keep on living

Denial will not bring freedom,
Acceptance will.
Not for anyone else,
But You.
Walking in the light,
Will bring freedom!

I write poetry to get to know myself
When I forget who I am
I go through my spilled verses
And I remember.

Salmabanu Hatim  
Tanzanian wombed man,

said in a poetic mind, reading
the name and kind of mind we mean

realizing,
we are alive,
during times of living words,
present in one instant, to any eye…

Tall Story

works some magic, telling old
what we were told, old times

back when story seed got stored.

Stories some say old as words.

Forever
for never
always, last May
she'd felt the air was acidic
scorching past bruised lips to fuel the wrong kind of engine
that water was a balm just out of reach, forbidden.

Today, with her boot turned to lead, Jessie raced alongside relief
a king's ransom in her contacts
she a queen-to-be.​

Small and ragged—
he broke off
from the pack,
mud splattering like rain.

No one believed,
but he soared—
dirt-clad winged underdog,
cutting through doubt,
beating the track
with a resolve
that defied rain
and the worst odds.

Mine that bird—
mighty horse
with Pegasus wings.

Shamanism, slowly go
Seattle rain, Reno snow
No one on Earth
Will ever know

                 Eliade!

We built
a tower
with hands
that did not know
how to touch.

It rose,
stone by stone.
Each word, a brick.
Each silence,
the mortar.
Promises—
vanishing into air.

We stood
at the bottom,
blaming the height
for our aches—
but the tower
was never
what broke us.

Don't you want to see me?
Or is it someone else
Do I set my blood free?
Or do I not hurt myself

Don't you think I'm pretty?
I don't think you care
That would be fitting
With a sideways chair

Don't you think I know?
About you and her
You still love her so
I don't think that's fair.

Aren't I the one?
That keeps you up at night?
Or are you so full of guilt
For not treating me right

If I'm a priority.
Then prove it to me
Make me feel love
Instead of making me beg for it.