you are golden,
like the sun on the sea,
you ride through me.

as the rays on a dusty window,
you shine, you shine,
reaching, making yours mine.

orange and dewy,
shine through canopies,
the warmth, your warmth,
it's growing inside me.

I can’t bear the silence between
The silence that cannot be seen
You my dear are silence between
For I can’t take the silence between

We drift apart like the silence between
Between our hearts that cannot be seen
I can’t take this silence between
For you are the silence between

Sometimes I think there is an inner earth,
that spins all widdershins to what we know;
and smoothly from within its spheric berth,
creates enchantments in our world of woe.
I almost hear the distaff and the wheel
and see the golden threads that are there spun;
as if the tapestries of life are real
and magic woven into every one.
The mural of one's life does take its turns;
one section, all bright colours,- next of dark.
The concept of these things within me burns
as I perceive the meaning of the spark.
Our tapestries are dark where we're alone
and brightest where the light of love has shone.

My mother's waters gave me birth
and wrinkled, I came to her arms.
So, wrinkled, will I leave this earth;
beyond its sorrows and its charms.
How sorrowful and soon, the dusk
will not be held back by our cries
and I within this worn out husk
lie down again, and hope to rise.
I dream of other waters now;
where joy and love and comfort are.
Where, to pain I need never bow,
beyond some bright but distant star.
Such afterlife I'll never know,
unless I slip this earth -and go.

I'm white.
I don't know what it's like
to have a black son
and wonder if he'll get shot
on a walk down the block
because his skin
camouflages him
into the night.

I am white.
I don't know what it is
to fear shots
from the gun barrels of the cops
hired to protect and serve
"us" from "them"
thick boots stomping the block--

cops more **** than Trayvon,
more **** than Mike,
more **** than the pre-teen
with a BB gun
robbed of his life.

I am white.
I don't know how it feels
to bleed out in the streets,
the fruit of my veins
soaking into scorched tar,
my still-open eyes seared
by the August sun.

I don't know how it feels
to lie there, dead,
an echo of ancestors
dangling from trees,
from light poles,
sunk into the Tallahatchie
with barbed wire and a cotton gin fan.

I am white.
Our history is filled with pale devils
enslaving races,
seizing lands,
killing millions--

so if someone's going to get shot,
maybe it ought to be one of us.

Trying to flee but tripping,
On the clothes he leaves
Strewn about my bedroom floor.
Reminders of how he drags me in.
Over and over.

Sipping on air he steals
From these lungs.
He coils himself around me,
Hands enclosed around my throat.
Begging me, pleading, stay.

Five more moments, he whispers
sweetly, softly into my hair.
But his words cut like razors
on the soles of these feet,
as I tiptoe from the bed.

He does not force this poison
Past these lips. But oh,
How easy it is to ignore him
At the bottom of a bottle,
At the end of a cigarette.

These paper thin limbs,
flimsy without him now.
I cannot slam doors,
On someone who is forever
Stood on my side of the frame.

I, his melancholy mistress,
Am comfortable only
In the dark shadows he casts,
When his cold arms
Are encircling my waist.

If I drop him,
Surely my own heart of glass
Must shatter?
Tell me, how can I ever look upon a mirror
If he is not there to crack my reflection.

Aligned to unite
With others who lost their way
It’s a mess we perceived
To those in dismay
These lines create dreams 
For the broken
For the ones never spoken-
Of Love & Courage

Conjuring up notions of time
Structuring of desires preludes
To pursue what’s lost 
To preach and beseech truth
Faith denotes eternally
Surviving pain and deceit
What speaks only bleeds
To fabricate amity

Not fazed by power
But to denote greed
Greed of Love & Passion
Exhaling Hate & Deception
To succor the pillar of fate
To exist in this factual state

Your heart's a fragile thing. 
Everyone’s heart is. 
Don’t ever contaminate hatred
Contaminate love instead.

Now if there's one thing i hate about society
it's that they're always saying what we should try to be
To me life is more than trying to make money
profits shouldn't control everything,  but they do, i find that funny.

What happened to just loving yourself and others
What happened to respecting our sisters and brothers
If skin tones weren't an issue, imagine how the world would be
if your beliefs didn't cause hysteria and conflict, where would we all be?

Well, I'm simply a poet, but I can at least dream of this
A world where we live for love...that's my greatest wish :)

river poets meandering
through stacks of golden hay
water rolling over jagged rocks
as night turns to day
pen to paper, written later
reeks of means to hesitate
ocean writers flicking lighters
humming through to meditate
when your chest is getting tighter
smoke through cigarette haze