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 Jun 2017 lillian
Devin Ortiz
She pours her honey words down my throat.
It takes but moments to become drunk on her artful prose.
And the lavender fills my spirits
As she buries her head in my heavy chest

Yet, you'd dare say she's sleeping with stolen dreams.
That it should be your words which intoxicate me,
That your perfume should give me life as you lay your soul into me.

And maybe for a moment, some time ago it was your words,
Which set my soul aflame.
But on came the night where you made your great escape.

It was I who was but a passing fancy,
with kind words and a gentle heart.
Was it not also your tongue
Which lashed it poison onto my breast.

She is fluid, calm and formless.
As the fire passes and I call to be healed.
It is not your words, but hers, which soothe.
So on your bitter thrown of curses, do not dare
Say that she sleeps with stolen dreams
For it was her words which rescued me
And it is her pen, which will write away this pain.
 Jun 2017 lillian
Devin Ortiz
Black feathers signal an arrival
What seemed like endless roads
Carved rugged into the Earth
Beady eyes welcome this moment

Low valley streams, white rapids
Serenely sinister silence of the woods
Two feet, four paws just a blur
Grounded only by a painted beauty

Sun sets, fire rises, that smokey cinder
Eating,  laughing, living so free
Stars explode through the tree tops
Night summons an absolute darkness

Blood red dawn, a shadow of the day
Walking now, footsteps, running water
Collecting the goodbyes and good times
Naturally black feathers occupy the vacancy
 Nov 2016 lillian
Devin Ortiz
Is to be told all the ways you don't matter
It is to be angry and afraid
It is to watch people walk on the opposite side of the street to avoid you
It is to be told to get over slavery
It is to be told that I'm not racist I have black friends
It is to be told the definition of racism like you don't already know
It is to be told hey what about reverse racism
It is to have a white terrorist group dedicated to your elimination
It is to be more worried about threats in your own country and those abroad
It is to wonder daily if your family will be safe, if they will get to come home
It is to called a **** for speaking out against the hate
It is to be called lazy when you work full time to provide for your family
It is to walk past folks and watch as the clench their purse or pockets
It is to be to have people fear you, when you feel more threatened then they ever could
It is to be told that privilege doesn't exist
It is to be told you are equal, except you know that in the courtroom, in the eyes of the law, the job market, the housing market, in the classroom, it is a ****** lie
It is to be live in a world where 1 in 3 black men are in prison
It is to know that they have sentences longer than white counterparts
It is to know they use prison labor to exploit them, slavery living on
It is to know that the police which are a relief for some, are a nightmare for you
It is to know that you can do everything right and be killed by someone sworn to protect you
It is to know that you will be blamed for your death inspite of this
It is to have the life choked out of you and a man telling you, **** your breathe
It is to hear what about black on black crime, even though every race commuts crime against their own kind the most
It is to remember white flight and the repercussions of it
It is to have family who have seen the bloodiness of the covil rights movement
It is to be taught in school how great this country is while ignoring the evil its done
It is to be taught in school how little you meant
It is to wake up every 2 weeks to another hashtag of some poor black fella to be forgot in a week
It is to want to simply be acknowledged that things arent right, and being ignored to this day
It is to be villianized in the media
It is to see that flag everyone holds dear and remember that pain it caused you
It is to fight and die for a country that still doesn't care about you
It is to be told to go back to Africa as if this wasnt stolen land
It is to be told I dont see you as black, you're just the same to me
It is to be told well you don't count as black, you don't act black
It is to have your culture stolen
It is to have value placed on your mysic and style and not your skin
It is to hear what would MLK think about these protest
It is to remember that people celebrated his assassination
It is to remember the slurs and the hate he recieved
It is to have people know they don't want to be treated the way you are
It is to want whats always been denied, the privilege of walking in your own skin without fear of persecution
It is to see family, friends and peers celebrate and share racist ideas and beleifs
It is being reassured they still value you
It is to know but not enough to matter

Being black in America is a lot of things, and I love the country all the same.

But I hope and pray for the day, that we can be treated the same.
 Oct 2016 lillian
Devin Ortiz
I flew, I flew
Back home.
To familiar roads
To familiar people

So ready to miss
All the things I left
Only to become bored
At what was once splendor

I saw the sights
I drank the liquors
Cheering my merry way
With friends and boulevards

I was happy, but the empty kind
Where you long for something
Not offered in the present moment
So quickly how things change.

I'm headed back now
To a new home
With new roads
With new friends

And that too, is okay.
This is a reply to a previous poem 'Flying Home'
 Oct 2016 lillian
Devin Ortiz
Tonight I get on a plane
Back home, to the place
That I left behind. The place
Where I packed up my things
Where I say goodbye and left.

But tonight I'll return. I wonder
What that will that be like. To return
To go back. How will I feel. Shall
Nostalgia take over and nuzzle me
As I embrace sweeter memories.

Or as I predict, will I learn that,
I can never go back. That what I
Left behind will never be. And that
Now, where I am, before this plane
Before I return is what waits for me.
 Oct 2016 lillian
Devin Ortiz
I dreamt of Immortality
So that in not dying
I could keep my lying
As you suckle on my truth

And this fountain pen
Doesn't flow with youth
Crooked smiles can't rebuke
My times coming to an end

Spiraling down, twisted frowns
Crawling for corruption's crown
May the ink burn the message clear
These broken words scream fear
 Oct 2016 lillian
Devin Ortiz
The clouds overlap
Into cities of bridges
With rivers of indigos
Painted in the sky, as the
Evening begins, early now
Autumn has come.
 Sep 2016 lillian
Devin Ortiz
Lost in the footsteps
That brought me back
To the quiet field which
Still bares my impression

From days when the grass
Powerful and green, wrapped
Me tightly in its embrace
As day and night passed
Through the clouds above

I remember the blank expression
As raindrops navigated down my face
Sometimes I'd even shed a tear
For only the Wind would know

Seeing it now, brown and lifeless
I wonder how I was maintained
After all, I was the one who,
Abdandoned such sweet sanctuary

I pay my respects,
Get down and *****
Laying in the past
Dry eyed, wishing
It would rain.
 Sep 2016 lillian
Devin Ortiz
Are you happy with yourself,
              When you jot down lies?

Do you smile as your forked tongue,
               Contorts itself putting pen to paper?

Does your reflection haunt you,
                Or are you used to that monster staring back?

Do you fear that once all your sin spills out,
                You will have nothing left to offer?
 Sep 2016 lillian
Emily Renae
Your eyes scare me
They remind me,
Of the passion I am capable of.
A thin line,
Between eroticism and sanity
Really.
I would love you in squalor or prosperity
1,000 lifetimes is too short
For all of the ways you enamor
me.
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