We cried into the darkness
to drown out the voices of hatred

But the darkness did not wane
The light we thought we saw was artificial
Cold LED's held in traitor hands
hands that claimed to pull us up
while seeking to push us down

The voices that called back
"sit down, shut up!"
shrunk to deceive us
"speak up, stand up!"
rang above them and gave us false hope

Now again they cry louder than before
"sit down, shut up!"
This was never our America
They held the reigns in secret,
******* twisted as they lied through their smiles

"We love you!"
With a knife held behind their backs

"Why don't you love us?!"
As the knife comes down,
as the fingers untwist and the smiles turn to snarls
As we bleed and cry out in pain and they say:
"Sit down, shut up...
It will only hurt for a second."

My skin is a crime

Freckles and scars
Lines marking growth from child to woman-
All hideous, lame, worthless
"Imperfections", they betray me

My skin is a secret

Sacred, coveted
Show some, show none
Inches marking me:
***** or ****

My hair is a war cry

Each must be silenced, snuffed
Lest I start a war, a political cry
They say it is "personal preference"
Even as strangers scorn with their gazes

My hair is beautiful

Only if it is on my head
Long strands are flags of white
Neutral, surrender
Short locks cry rebellion

My womb is mandatory

"I want grandchildren!"
"How can you not want kids?"
"You'll change your mind one day"
"Women are meant to be mothers"

My womb is not mine

It is my lover's
My family's
My country's
An unborn's

My skin is a crime

My skin is a secret

My hair is war

My hair is surrender

My womb is mandatory

My womb is not mine

My body is a battleground
And I will always lose this war

A-howl came the wind
and a-whirl went the leaves
at her arrival:
Sweet Autumn.

My dearest, sweet Autumn
fall upon we with your bliss;
your chill that ravages my flesh,
yet warms my soul.

Come, sweet Autumn
paint the trees and undress them,
leave them dancing bare
for your sister Winter's delight

Oh, but how soon you are gone!
The Ice Queen comes too soon,
steals the warmth in my soul
and leaves only the chill bitten down to my bones.

Return to me, oh Autumn
when this year has gone,
and young Spring and Summer have hidden away--
my dearest, sweet Autumn.

I cannot write a poem today
Because the weather isn’t quite right
It would really be a fight
To write a poem when the weather isn’t right.

I cannot write a poem today
Because I am feeling so sore,
My back aches, hands cramp—oh mercy, no more!
Oh no, I simply cannot write with everything all sore.

I cannot write a poem today
Without my cup of tea
I’m thirsty and cross, you see,
Without my cup of tea.

I cannot write a poem today
Because the floors are creaky
And the door is drafty, and the roof—I fear—is leaky.
No, no, I cannot write today while the floors are creaky.

I cannot write a poem today
Because the mail is coming,
Surely when the doorbell rings the sound will send me running.
Oh, I cannot write a poem when the mail is coming.

I told you, and I’ll say again
Why I cannot write not now or then;
I cannot write a poem today
Because of the stormy clouds,
My body’s sore,
and without my cup of tea,
the creaky floors,
and then mail well on its way.

Poetry is dying,
as surely as I am dying
as you are dying

Each word read is a new breath
life-sustaining air to inky lungs
but breath must be freed
and when it goes we are closer to death.

To live a moment more
then die a little more
we die forevermore.

Poetry as dying,
as surely as the sun dies when she sets
as the moon dies when she sets.
Poetry is dying while it lives in our hearts
it's washed out from our minds
as we die--as surely as we die.

Our poetry is dying
but new words will be born
as surely as babies are born.

Like sunlight on dew drops, shine bright as a star
my  sweet dear, wherever you are
if light be gone to let you 'lone
know you'll always find your way home.

Oh love of loves, sweet love of mine
of all things you are most fine
And lovely love, true love of me
t'is your face I swoon to see.

And if our ways by fate must part
take with you my humble heart
and let not all the miles of this earth
keep me from your warming mirth.

Oh love of loves, sweet love of mine
of all things you are most fine
And lovely love, true love of me
t'is your face I swoon to see.

How long until there's change--
even as we scream in outrage?
How many innocents have gone
and yet we still just carry on

Open your eyes
overcome the lies
we are the ones to blame
for this wretched, wicked shame

The filth is in our hearts
tearing us apart
in selfishness we're blind--
have we all lost our minds?

how many fallen from villains' hand
yet we all demand
"They're the ones profane!"
to avert the rightful blame

we hoard our deadly weapons
for the sake of prideful brawn
yet children fall and still we say
"they simply went astray."

there is darkness in us all--
though the fact may appall
but perhaps without the means
we may not be death machines...