I walk around touching.
I walk around touching objects
-Hanging or resting-
That carry shards of our
History in their origin.
My hands remember
The warmth of your back
Against my palm.
Sun lotion between my fingers,  
Denmark. Summer.
You tasted like xcide and your  
Mother's Marlboro Light.
Laughed.
Kissed me;
Soft but hard. Soul to my soul.
We were so completely happy.

This quill pen you made me
To inspire my words.
Draw us with your poetry.
To write about you drawing
A picture of me writing
About you.
Taking in; transferring.
I've written you
Volumes.
Volumes.

Picture.
I touch and smile.
Trace your face with
My fingers, your
Mouth. My God, your
Mouth...
You let me touch your
Teeth when you smiled.
I cried then, even during the
Good years.

I take it in. Dig deeper in memories
To strain my soul, and tattoo... and
Claim these moments as
Mine forever; graven into
The marble tablets of
My mourning mind.
Feeling the farewell with
My every fibre
And gaping, face soaking wet,
At the Heavens in a
Silent scream of
**** You God! She's gone!
GONE! FUUUUUUUCK!

Like some kind of miner or
****** of some sorts
Craving pain and beauty in
Equal handfulls,
Tearing and ripping
At the remains of something
That just days ago
Wasn't dead.

In this one question
Lay
Answers to my
Day:
REVOLUTION?

I
Years and years of yearning
Dreams and dreams depressing
I fly back, back on the wings of memory
And time my pilot be
For  time's grey hands yet swings
Ticking away behind sturdy wings
Backwards i journey humming like the bird
Past-ward to scenes
And sounds once seen
Once heard

Tearful laughter, painful joys
Youthful blunders - silent noise

Over and over, the flames rise
Over and over, storms in our eyes
Blue nights that once upon were
Who was there, what was fair

I write of a past once veiled
Lonesome,
        dark memories i reveal
I will speak of choking,
        muffled yells
Pain. Depression. Fear - Hell

II
"Ah, say berries taste sweeter red
Their juices free as more they bled"

But who taught the kid to feed?
Nanny dumb; he nipped the ****
More so, as like a log she lay
Dogs shall school your kid to play

Yet should we upon mores lay blame
Cholerous slight culture's game
Slay her players with a Poisoned Placard
Aces. Queens. Kings. Protesters. Playing card

No, i shall not cheer my own fall - come
Sit with me, give me your hand, come -
Though you are broken, hold -
Proud. Resilient. Bold.
I call to you, "come father,
Tell me what house fire make the kites gather,
What color, the smoke of marijuana?
Your girlfriend - is she really from Ghana?
Will you have stone if i gave you meat,
Tell me, what is it you do in corners of dark streets!?"

humid sounds of city stillness
wafting warmly, quietly
through bedtime screens

melancholy windows open
deep within my soul
don't know why...

love is allowed to fade
from mundane view
treasure unrealized

nurturing appreciation
materially displaced
don't know why...