“Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees,”
Billie Holiday sang in 1939.
Those bodies don’t swing no more,
no, they lay in the streets for hours in the hot sun.
Moses said let my people go, now we say,
let my people live.
Dr. King prayed for a day when this would
all end, but here we are still fighting.
Peaceful as a dove, we marched and scream
until our lungs give out, but to no avail, we still die.
A time of peace may come, but rainbows only
appear after the rain; this storm isn’t over yet.

Too young, too soon.
I can count on one hand
how many times I held you,
Sleepy little thing.

Bright eyes, wide and ancient
you stared right through me
like you knew who I was
the moment we met,
Sleepy little thing.

All I ask is that you
wave to the sun for me
kiss the stars for me
say hi to the moon for me,
Sleepy little thing.

I loved you more
in those few weeks then
I ever thought possible
but you rest and I’ll
meet you in the clouds one day,
Sleepy little thing.

Hey Dark Eyed Child
I see you weeping.
Who gave you those
tears in your eyes?

People I once loved, she said.

Hey Dark Eyed Child
I see you sleeping.
Who put those dreams
in your head?

I got them from the clouds and stars, she said.

Hey Dark Eyed Child
I saw your heart the other day
Who shattered that
beautiful soul?

Man did, she sighed.

Hey Dark Eyed Child
I see you making your own way
Who gave you that light
I see you shining with?

The sun just up and kissed me, she beamed.

Hey Dark Eyed Child
I know you tired of
hearing me speak but
I just had to ask,
who made you?

Me, she grinned, I did.

Through passion I live,
through stagnation I die,
through diligence I am reborn.

Over all things my word is my blood.
It lives as I live slipping through
my veins and into my heart.

I put pen to paper and vanquish my
demons. When the words stop
flowing, I can’t get going.
I fall into dreamless slumber.

Within silence lies my fallen comrades.
Murdered by delerium and conceit.
They dwell in the realm between shadows
drowning in thick, palpable darkness.

I must be lucky to have not perished
under the weight of my predecessors
for the road is long and weary.

But when the oceans of my soul
get to stirring, the tempest roams
searching for dreamy outlet in starless
skies of ruby and amber. I concede.
My blood has won.

And if the sky were diamonds brilliant and blue,
we’d all reach for heaven as if it held a mother’s warmth.

And if we were birds gliding upon golden gilded wings,
surely we’d soar over snow capped mountains yearning for home.

And if the peacock wing’d sea call us back to her,
we’d answer with a thundering “Yes Mother, we hear you!”

And if the cool handed shade of the willow beckoned us,
surely we’d lie upon her away from the sun and daydream.

On a quiet night
a hazy sky wrought
with pink and white
clouds and flakes
drips sweet delicate
crystals of ice.

In a mid morning fog
powder crunches
softly beneath light
steps from dainty feet
in heavy boots.

When the sun is high
sharp skates glide
across the slick smooth
frozen glass of water.

As dusk settles
on the horizon
another blanket falls.

If one were to venture out
into the frost shrouded sunset

surely ice would meet skin.

Golden bronze rays
shower light and
ooze heat in the
noontime hour of
the unforgiving days
of wet June warmth.

Sticky, moist, slick
skin falters under
pressure impregnated
with exhaustion and
unquenchable thirst.

Steam rises from
now viscous tarred
streets after rain
falls with no warning.

Waves of lurid heat
evolve from every surface
in sight near and far.

Wet, hot, moist, sticky,
sultry, intense, stifling.

Summer has made it’s entrance.

Cœurs battent en tandem. Une ruée. Mouvement lent, puis rapide, puis ralentir une fois de plus. Ongles glissent sur la peau, glissant, chaud. Un sursaut et un gémissement, un gémissement avant un cri. Le rire et les mots enivrants. La douleur que de plaisir à l’état pur. Nous ondulent, avancent et reculent dans l’autre, autour de l’autre.

Hearts beat in tandem. A rush. Movement slow, then swift, then slow once more. Fingernails glide across skin, slippery, hot. A gasp and a moan, a whimper before a scream. Laughter and heady words. Pain as pleasure in its purest form. We undulate, expand and recede within each other, around each other.

Volons au **** dans le ciel nocturne. Voyons voir les étoiles de toutes les galaxies. Disons s’endormir sur une nouvelle planète dans un nouveau plan entouré par de nouvelles personnes. Lançons à travers les parties les plus sombres de l’univers et pas peur. Disons-venture à travers tout le temps et l’espace ensemble. Vous et moi.

Let’s fly off into the night sky. Let’s see the stars of all the galaxies. Let’s fall asleep on a new planet in a new plane surrounded by new people. Let’s run through the darkest parts of the universe and not be scared. Let’s venture through all of time and space together. You and I.

Restless eyes and provoking mouths. Feel of fire, aether, and ice. Moving, moving, never ending. Perpetual duality. Echoes cannot cease.

You made me hollow.

You took away the me that I could have been and tried to replace her with the me you thought I should be.

But I’m not her.

You may have stolen my insides and stuffed me with death and rot, but you did not destroy me.

It hurt, it still hurts sometimes, to feel the phantom of a future unrealized, but I persevere.

I was robbed, emptied, and left to live like that. Uneven. Never whole. Broken.

But I found out,

I could change that.

So I filled myself with flowers and clouds and packed in the spaces with laughter and rain.

I filled myself with endless dreams and glimmers of hope everlasting.

I grew. My flowers became a garden. My clouds became the very sky above my head. My laughter echoes life eternal and my rain became an ocean deeper than any man will ever see.

I am alive. I am alive and beautiful and wonderful and everything.

I.

Am.

Everything.

When we moved in 8 years ago,

it was so quiet. You only heard

birds and insects buzzing through

every window. It’s different now.

Every noise is grating. A crash,

a bang, a whimper, and a scream.

Parties meet violence in a dance.

Screeching laughter mingles with

the honking of horns and the blasts of

fireworks and guns. It all seemed so nice,

8 years ago. But it’s all going to **** now.

The world I left after 11 years of service

followed me. Slowly invading my new sanctuary

block by peaceful block. Old residents left

a hole in my beautiful land and so

the trash and filth oozed in.