A good poem is a flash back  

To the ****** days we spend in bed

With that someone who knew what he was doing,

When we called out, they middle name,

“Oh God, oh ****, who would believe, you had

Christen him and name him on the same day.

They too in that moment had forgotten they true identity.



We never learn from our past,  

flashback, alerts us, and those who cannot remember the  

Past are condemned to repeat it.

A good poem, can only do one take

As someone, somewhere might yelled cut!

A good poem has taught us that

None of us is safe until all of us is safe  

For the next ten years, during this pandemic  

Take action, control those raging hormones,

And ugly man, might seem handsome,

But nothing to back it up with,

When, the blood rushes to one's brain:

Don’t be smitten by the lying tongue;

A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood,

Sit and be silent to be heard no more,
Perhaps you heard those words somewhere
Sometimes in one's life growing up,
Why people think it their duty to silence
another person not to speak openly and freely,

A spoken word or sound is meant to be heard
Like the loud ring tone of a cell phone  
And indication, someone is calling,
Somebody need to be heard:

My grandparents, and parent believe  
In silencing this poetess when I was a child
At a point where my voice stays inside,
Then step two where, everybody that knew me  
Kept asking why I was so shy:
Why was I afraid to speak to my elders?
Me being shy became social anxiety for some
As for my friends I spoke with confident, like a true trooper,
Grown folks intimidate the hell out of me,
Why? Because of commanding words
Sit and be silent to be heard no more.

As an adult, I have a hard time taking orders
From others, or being talk down too,
Maybe that's why I enjoy writing so much
Only I can hear my voice when I compose
Until I allowed my reading to take a peep
At my work, my Island tongue,
My American frustration on worldly views
I sat for too long, I frown for too long,
I bite down on my tongue for too long,
But I concocted a plan, on how to
Get back my silencers, and revenge them
With my spoken words of silence, without being seen

"Great is language, it is the mightiest of sciences
It is the fulness and color and form and diversity of the earth and of men and women and of all qualities and processes.
It is greater than wealth, it is greater than buildings, or ships or religious or painting or music. -----Walt Whitman.. "

The Mask Tell Our Story

No one can see us when we wear the mask
The phantom of the opera,
Swiftly, we walked by with a frown.

The mask tell a story,
Of what evil men can do,
Of a rich man,  a poor man
who never travel to foreign lands\


He wore the mask, of soot
On his face, on his hands,
But, he never travel to foreign lands
Somehow, we all is blending in now..

Loyalty.. When you find loyalty in humanity, treasure it.
We are a rotten bunch,
With unmended hearts and bitter souls,
Striking at any available victim.
Not because we want to but because we are damaged.
However, loyalty still remains a choice.
No matter how many times you got hurt, maintain your integrity. Do your part in being good. It really pays off.
If you're good and someone hurts you, they lose a good thing.

Me and mine had our fill of HIS ****** royal Lip,
And racist, sexist philandering entitlement.

Dark days, it’s never light
I have the lights on all day
Night is starting to close in at four pm
At least it’s a quiet time of year
Nothing is stirring
Typical November
No sun, no moon, no stars

i'm becoming more reckless as the days go on
jumping off buildings and jumping in front of cars
not to die but to almost die
maybe then you'd come back home
maybe then you'd see just how much pain you caused me
but even if you did come home, at this point I'm not sure I would be able to forgive you anymore