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Wait
Check
Look;

When did relationships
Get defined
By a read receipt?
Will we
Now
Only measure intimacy
By a tweet?

What do we have left,
Why can’t we
Go back
To laughter
In a diner seat

I hear
Hindi
In the hallway—
Suddenly
My American
Lips
Can taste
The masala
In your kiss;
I smile
And let the memory
Travel
Across the sea
Where it belongs

Seek
Solution
Need
Restitution
When will
These people
Marked by
Color
And known
By grace
Have a voice
That isn’t only
A chorus

Snowfall
Whispers
In mountains high,
Promise renewing
In a healing sky.
How often we seek
Solace
In Forest deep;
We feel akin
To a world
That cannot help
But weep

Dewdrops glisten down my spine,
Doorways creak
Closed fast behind.
All I can think is,
God,
What a waste of time

I find myself stopping in a crowd of people and time slows still. Their laughter, their unpredictable movements, the fights and the resolutions and the bonding of brothers--all quiet. I am left in the fabric of things to wonder at the tapestry we call a culture.

How am I to know what is proper when all have their own true mothertongue? Who can teach me what to say when all I know is jumbled and disheveled based on who I've been and what I know?

I leave behind a southern legacy of liturgy and doctrine that outlines exactly what is human and exactly what is not. I step into a society that constantly years to fill a void--please Lord, find us someone who knows the Truth.  

Their apathy and nonchalance is false; bravado is left wanting. I know they they all cry out for connection and seek it in flesh rather than spirit. I am caught in the midst of the pursuit of happiness and the quest for morality. I know not what brings joy to humanity, I hike towards that river and hope it is not run dry like all others.

In the study of psychology, I have found so many places where words fall short and the great carnal animal within all of us takes precedence, demands attention, seeking comfort in a world that often overlooks those that need it the most.

Love is a fragile, timid thing that is most often hard to find and difficult to voice. Instead, we lash out in aggression to hide that inner child that needs a tried and true comfort of a known embrace. We seek forgiveness and express it in anger, manipulation, meeting our needs however possible because this is America, after all.

This is all we want in our sequestered human heart, the beginning of redemption.

Expanses of sky
Open up to
Opportunity—
Where will the wind
Take me?
Can I sail on the current
Of air and smoke
To a place where I
Can start anew?
Can I wander on the ether
To a world that is understanding
Of the hustle and bustle
And ever happening of life,
And a place that will bring me
Empathy
In a world that is filled with
Void?
I daydream
On the airplane,
30,000 feet
Above the reality
Of a world where I am known
As a number
Rather than a name

Worry
Pounds like rain;
I force myself
To remember
That stormclouds
Are thick with rage
Just before they break
And calm returns to the earth
As the storm recedes,
As it will in me

On the last day of love
I filled my bath
With warm waves,
Sprinkled rose petals
And salt,
And soaked my lonely heart
Until it blistered,
Softened,
Lamenting
A song
Of resilience

Weeping willows daughter,
Why do you cry?
What do you mourn
That has fallen
To the soil
And withered?

It is
The immigrants fear
As their child is ripped
From their womb

It is
The child’s blank stare
When they are refused
Education
And forced to be
A wife

Destitution,
Desolation,
Desecration.

These are the tears
Mother Earth cries
For her children.

This is why my grief
Grows

If traveling through space
Is an odyssey,
What is it called
When I search your soul
And find Nirvana?

No sacred book,
Or talisman,
No prayer,
Or synagogue
Or mosque,
Can ever change this truth,
Ancient and antiquated:
When two are in love,
No matter the gender,
Culture,
Or identity,
The earth moves in wonder;
The mountains bow down in awe.

Due dates;
Schedules;
Deadlines;
Dates,
A revolving strain on time,
A resulting
Pressure
For proven effort;
Will
Our productivity
Decide
Our professional fate?
We look inward,
And contemplate,
And find
Our update
Is late

Joy
Wittles away
When a candle
Of passion
Is snuffed out—
But oh
How the spark
That lit it
Did shine
Bright

Constellations
Connect
In celestial harmony—
As will we
If only we
Can keep
Our heads up,
Hearts high
Towards the sky
We descended from

Resurface
Reverb,
Renewal,
Revive—
Speak into Mother Earth
And our existence will thrive

From failure
Sparks
New birth;
Out of ashes
We rise
Aflame,
Fists raised
Up,
Hope held
High

How sensuous and seductive is the unique confidence of a woman. The way she nurtures her appearance as well as her career, education, and every living thing around her. Her dedicated intellect that balances a drive towards production as well as love and affection. It is in a woman’s heart that grace is found, boundless supplies for those who have wronged her, but also those who she will teach about the love she found in herself. She is a beacon to a society lost in the fray.

Flowers bloom,
Glisten and grow
And then wilt in the end;
Yet the one that brought them to me
Is here until
The last sun sets

Black
May seem dreary,
But it is
The color of ink,
The river
Of creation
That makes
Stories
Soar

Wonder
Waits
For you
To open yourself
Up;
To breathe
In
The aura,
The resounding
Belief
That magic
Does exist

The worlds collide—
We collaborate in time,
Countries connect;
Come together,
Creating harmony
In chaotic catechisms,
Unprecedented and powerful.
We chant and chime:
“We will survive”

Do you not know
That there are worlds
Within a disappointment,
A whole constellation
Of opportunity.
Hidden in the resolution
Of failure
Is a promise
Of restoration.
As we leave
One instant,
We enter
Another lifetime,
One with pages of story
Freshly printed.
Your journey
Wanders
As your experience
Expands;
The destination
Is the masterpiece
Strung together through days
Of collected mistakes
And a kaleidoscope of moments,
All to lead you
To the one eventual
Celebration
Of all
That you are

What does it cost
To be so free?
No strings attached
Yet none to tug you back
From the beyond,
No hand to hold you
When you feel gone,
None to keep you back from the brink

The strongest
Diamond
Is cut
Deeply
By
The
Most sincere
Of love

Being in love
With someone—
Fragile
As glass;
Being in love
With yourself—
Strong
As stone

I am done
With captivity.
I am here to set you free.
No ammunition,
No inhibition
Just two hands,
A heart,
And steady legs
Weathered by the sea

What a
Magnificent
Mistake
It would be
To speak to yourself
So cruelly,
Lying to yourself,
Saying:
You are only worth
As much
As your productivity

What a shame
It is
To be beautiful
But bold;
Making you
Exquisite art
Too unique
And foreign
To understand,
And discarded
Instead

Do not settle
For a storage bin
When you deserve
An exhibit
In the National gallery

My comfort
In this office
With my notebook
And degrees
Are secondary
To the known
Truth
That you deserve
To believe
In the beauty
Of life
And the necessity
Of your mark
For the book we write
As one

Her eyes,
Her confidence
Hold truth ethereal,
It matters not
What she was
Only what
She is brave enough
To transform into
And thrive as,
A woman
Stronger than scorn
And happier
Because she is
Finally
Herself

Fame
Is a fickle fire
That fumes
At the sheerest whisper
Of applause
And flutters,
Snuffs out
At the mere suspicion
Of fault

Your burden
Is not too much to bear.
Give your heavy,
Show your dark,
And I will etch a patch
To the light

His calming word:
“Stay”
Her Anxious fear:
“Go”
Walking a tightrope
Between fear
Of abandonment
And the present promise
Of safety

My mind sings
Of sonnets,
Laments
And soliloquy
That all reveal
One epiphany:
Not all the words in this world
Can do justice
To a love
Such as this

Citrus sweet
And onion sharp,
Scents collected
In a cafe’s heart.
I wait alone
Looking for comfort
And sense camaraderie
At the cafe’s counter.
I say hello
And grab a treat
Realizing
How tender it is
To offer something to eat
When a heart is lonely
And emotions sore,
Looking for love
In food,
Whimsical
As a musician’s score

Can we strive
For health,
Without being broken by it?
Letting foundation
Camouflage our pores
Until we disappear
Under the weight of beauty.
Can we look
To better ourselves
Without being bested
By perfection?
I yearn for truth
In pursuit of wellness
Without the guilt
Of validation
Haunting us into iniquity

To hold pages
In your hands
Is a world
Awakening

The bubbling brook
On the river's edge,
The fierce knight
Nearing the stone ledge

Mysticism
in the ink,
Lyricism
in the structure.

There is peace
In this,
Reading
Until life
is Colored,
Blurred,
and whole
Again

What can I give you
That you have not already
Taken,
What can I say
That I have not
Uttered now?
Time will tell
If you change
Or stay rooted
To your chains

Sometimes
You do
Your best
And pour
Yourself
Into
Another,
A profession,
A piece of art.
And it is not enough.
But do not believe
My love
That it is you.
You are
So much
More
Than enough

The sun wilts through
The windowpane
And I warm under its wings.
What graceful days are these
To chime away hours in solitude,
To wait for resolution
To a question asked again
And answered only in song,
Patience,
And absolution

Will we wither away to nothing
Or will we build a bridge
With tethered hands
Tied to the pursuit,
Grounded by the earth,
Defiant
And determined
To find nirvana
Beyond the wilderness

There are worlds
Within you.
Uncharted continents
To explore.
What
An untamed adventure
It is
To be yours.

I would rather
Hunt you down
And excavate
known treasure
Than spend a lifetime
Chasing the rumor
Of satin and gold

Laughter lilting,
Smiles ascending,
Warm breeze rushes by;
Yellow winged monarchs
In July

I cough
And feel the sickness
Rise
And wonder
How many babies
Ache
From the same
Affliction
But are not
Treated
Because of their
Race
Or place
Of origin

How often we feel ashamed
When our skin could glow,
With all the ruin
We have survived
And turned into poetry,
All the defeat we withstand
And walk away from,
Leaving yesterday
And braving tomorrow

If there was more of you
I could touch
If there was somehow
A galaxy of sensation,
I would soothe you
Until the entire world
Turned still and quiet
And all we knew
Was us

You’ve gotten so lost
In never again
You’ve forgotten
The symphony held
Within dark clouds,
The harmony
Of thunder

You pour
Your heart
Out to me;
I pull
The courage
Out of you.
What a delicate
Vibrant
Vulnerable exchange