these tears drown me
as i stare at the screen.
the hearts of young Africans
still suffering.
they drown me into a harbor of guilt
be careful don't let those tears spill.
see we only care
when were forced to be aware
eyes stare st the screen.
*** does this mean.
hide yourself.
**** a gun.
living life this way.
fathers telling the world your not his sun.
girl you over here drowning,
creating rivers and streams.
claiming you know what being black means.
until the son goes down and you hear
about all these Black Men
Red Districting.
now you joining a fight
that barely has a side.
with way more history
involving you nor i.
whatever you say this is my life.
my choice, my party.
i can sit here and cry.
and deny, deny, deny.
while our brothers are being killed.
by ourselves more than them.
they don't view us as equal
and im not talking about them.
so girl play your part.
speak your mind
so that it looks like you fought.
for our brothers and sisters
who can no longer fight for themselves.
because our black people
tied their hands behind their back,
as they fell into wells.
of despair.
miseducation.
because in this world
as a gay
black man.
your just a beast with no nation.

Who knew that the cure
For a mind stricken with grey
Was leaves on the breeze?

I'll be writing poems all day thinking
that am creating rhymes

I'll be writing nostalgic screams in every stanza
that faded  into dust

I'll be writing poignant poems
that devour me of existence

I'll be writing smoked poems
that left me gasping for more air

I'll be writing lustful poems
that aroused my stitched shells

I'll be writing illusive poems
that I wept as my reality

I'll be writing shelved poems
that collected dust of your frightful memories

I'll be writing a potent poem
that echoes the dreads of this planet

I'll be writing you a poem
that bleeds Born's unquenched thirst for words

I once believed spelling was important.
But that's just stupit.

Words are noises that are lost in
the void of misunderstanding.

Silence and motion explain more
thought than syllables of confusion.

If we stop the motions of our lips
and look, we understand more..

How to put this
how to keep this
delicate
cleaning the childhood
out of mind
but keeping it
in mind
as I pull
up my shirt,
letting you feel
the scar
from my youth
and I'll be
seeing you soon,
I'll see you there
dirt
in our hair
and fireflies.

If I could have my way
we would only
grow younger
and not as strangers
to ourselves,
undoing all we know
cleaning the dust
off the shelf.
I know you better
in my chest,
girl as beacon
of light
of summers
in the past.

When you leave me
do it slowly,
keep me dark
keep me waiting.
Only the dirt
will know
what you're thinking,
as you sink
into the fever
of the season.
Mary,
lay on your back
with the tv
on
it lights up your dress
and turns your distress
into a million
colored lights.

Caught
in a small town
but you are
made up of the world
in your short skirt
and honey skin
only showing
in patches
when the sun touches
down upon
your window again.
In your old Buick,
a kaleidoscope
of summer
crashing down in
dreams
in the heat of this town.
A dream in which
I am turned around,
breathing in color
and looking for you
now.

All matter is fluid
She believed
As she passed effortlessly
Through the concrete -
Then realizing the passage
Was in imagination only
She felt the warm blood pumping
From her skull onto a
Cold factual sidewalk.



- fr