There exists a place on earth
Where one can find true peace
A place away from stress and pain
A place where all of it will cease

For some, it's near the ocean
That a calm can always be found
The waves carry all the stress away
With that familiar relaxing sound

The coolness of the water,
And the warmth of sunny rays,
It doesn't take very long at all
Before the world melts away

For others it's the forest
That sets their mind at ease
The world feels completely still
When you're surrounded by tall trees

The air somehow feels calmer
It smells remarkably fresh
Some birds tweet in the distance
And your thoughts again can mesh

So often we get caught up
In the worries of the day
We forget to worry about ourselves
And take some time away

So whether you go alone
Or with someone you hold dear
Make sure to find the time you need
To make your head feel clear

I am the queen of what ifs
Sitting on a throne of could've beens

My fears are my loyal subjects
Escorting my dreams to the gallows

My ambitions are now prisoners
To my court of procrastination

I, the queen
Reign over all of this regret

Come, my love
let us speak now
the language
of skin

imprint
your lexicon
in my every hollow

stroke that soft spot
above my hipbone
you love so well

linger there
like we have
forever

mold my body
to fit yours
wrap me in sleep

precious few
hours remain
imagine to never
touch again.

Moonlit eyes reflected on still, icy water
They draw me in
Into those deep blue depths I wander,
I dissolve into fragments of our memories
as I wade through your visions,
I see myself from the back line of your heart
and with salty tears,
I distort the perfect mirror of your eyes

Questions ripple out from the source:
How do you see such beauty in something so cruel
Why do you stay there in that storm that bites and claws at your soul
Don't you know why storms are named after people

My love does not know release
My love is desperate, unapologetic,
it will clutch you back every time you reach for the shore

But you are stronger than the tides
Gravitational pull has no power over your will
So what force is this that binds you to the idea
of this endless body of water
Have the sirens whispered sweet lies of true love
and other treasures buried deep in these dark waters
Or is the idea of drowning seeming sweeter than regret

Either way, be sure that I will destroy you in the most beautiful way
and the shipwreck I cause will mark every place with our memories
You will taste me forever like salty blood in your mouth
And your bright eyes will haunt me until the day I run dry

I am a *****
Minus the triggers being pulled and the drugs being sold
But just a black man bold enough to face a world so cold
A cold world we call society
When being black and sobriety doesn't mix because we use drugs in variety
But quietly
I am a *****
Thinking what made this word so negative
Is it because we made it positive
Or is it negative we became cognitive enough for a scholarship
Yes, I am a *****, no I'm not a rapper
But this system makes me sick enough for chicken soup and crackers
Yes, I am a *****, and I am an athlete
And I still maintain my sanity from having my *** beat
Although I am a *****, I am not lesser than you
Nor am I second to you
I just wonder what it takes to get the message to you
Crazy I'm a ***** yet I still know my father
Crazier calling me a ***** doesn't give me a bother
Maybe it's crazy that I'm a part of the problem
What's craziest is I'm a ***** still attending a college
You should have no problem reading this regardless of race
What's absurd is a word means more than a face
We're more focused on race than we are as a species
But I'm going to sit back and take a sip of this sweet tea
We went from black panthers, huge bushes, picks, and combs
I thought words could never hurt you?
What happened to sticks and stones?

After good twenty two years
I lay suspended, almost a S shape
In that easy chair, back home in Kerala
The cloth that holds, reminds
The swings I had in the cradle
With each move; people, events and situations
Came alive as if in a motion picture,
In that space within my heart

The contours of that easy chair
Rested myself into an eternal ease
Sitting there with my cup of coffee
I felt my life jumping on to my lap, in indulgence!
My life giggled, cried, laughed loudly
Sang occasional lullabies, kissed me deeply, and at times
Darted right into my heart
Filling all voids, in that space within…

My life held a mirror straight on to my face
Took me through the life I sailed
Pains, pleasures, pauses and prices I paid
Fights, flights and the final freeze, I chose
That easy chair on which I sat
Brought me close to my Self

In that trance, I asked
"Where were you all these while, my life?"
"You never find any time to sit for me to come to you" my life said
I realized, I was sitting, all the while, in innate forms,  
But not as a listener to my own life.
That easy chair back home
Showed me what and how, I were
That easy chair back home
Made me live again...

Beyond the thoughts
that keep us bound
fear
suffering
anger  
love
we will fly
though it be fleeting

we savor
the height
while craving
the ground below
knowing
it takes both
to make
a soul

How do you save someone from themselves?
Is it even possible?
How can you interpret their cries for help
when they're in a language no else one understands?
Do you just give them a great big hug?
Maybe walk with them a little and hold their hand?
The truth of the matter is,
you can't save them.
No one can.

The red flower centered
between exotic curled lines
evokes the smell of old Jaipur
the Hawa Mahal ~ Palace of the Winds
where the maharaja’s women once peered
from pink honeycombed windows above streets
overflowing with painted elephants, camels, turbaned men.
A river of color, movement, sound
from red-dust shrouded sunrise
to ember scorch at the horizon line
the desert broken only by the organic rise
of dung and mud-bricked houses sheltered
by one denuded tree, a mirage of shade.

A cobalt hurricane spiral or vine’s end
worn smaller than its origins
its story, the shelf on which it sat
perhaps a fragile immigrant, hand-carried
from the old country by someone’s mother’s mother.
Whole and admired for a century before
its demise, told with regret-laden mouths
mother to daughter, daughter to mother
Oh, I wish we still had that blue bowl
great grandmother dropped
when she heard about Roy
a circle of memory, come to rest
on this distant curve of beach.

The cream and blue striped shard
could be my grandmother’s coffee cup
rimmed brown and lipstick stamped
sip, then drag on the Raleigh cigarette
always attached to electric-tipped fingers.
The cup was most likely broken in the war
that raged until death parted my grandparents
maybe it sailed harmlessly past my grandfather’s shiny
head and hit a rock near the creek, exploding into pieces
a small token of their shattered marriage
a lifetime of regrets carried to the sea
grievance-scrubbed, muted by the journey
this sliver must be handled with care.

The largest fragment found
tangled in the eelgrass at my feet
delivered on a tide of need
at the ebb of an unexpected storm
a perfect cross, soft edges raised
on a rough slab of terra cotta.
The fragile sun had warmed
the worn shape nesting
in my palm like a missing piece
as my restless fingers traced
down and across, across and down

asking questions, seeking answers.