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 Mar 2014 Jimmy Kerr
Wanderer
I wake up with your smell braided through my hair
                            Saturating my senses from the night before

Starlight and moonshine lit rings of soft fire in our eyes

                            Falling asleep in your arms
                            World stops, fog settles in
                            No one here but our body heat
                            Syncopation at it's most natural speed
                            Cold fibers seek solace in lip kissed goose bumps

You push me deeper than ever before

                            Our hands parting but pried apart
                            Occupying the spaces between hello and goodbye
                            It is never that easy though, is it?

Straight lines curve when wrapped around your tongue

                           Making the most out of deep sighs and slow, easy smiles  
                           The subtle shifts in your geography have my mouth watering
                           Causing a wild flutter to awaken the dead ache
                           In flesh once thought to be silent

It beats only for you

                           Ink and I have been forged since birth
                           Soul seared and thirsty for it's satiny black quench
                           With it I paint you immortal
                           Dancing through veins and sacred neuron firing
                           you are held
                           Where I can always keep you safe
                           Where in memory you are eternal
A dozen roses on her nightstand
Seem so uneven
they came around two-ish
I watch as the family members hug and kiss her
~
However, the little boy stood by the door
Staring at the old hag in the chair
She stares back at him
~
“Oh how she love him once
is this what  love look like
As it die faster than yesterday flowers
Where have all the flowers gone?
  When she said
It’s a boy
six years ago
There's nothing, nothing left to say or do
You look through a window to the world outside
and watch another twelve inches of snow fall to the ground
Cursing Mother Nature or turning this into a blessing

Here I am waiting to see my tulips sprout
Instead, they are being blanketed with snow
There's nothing else left for me to do but to go inside
log on and read other people's thoughts :
so sad their mental state
so sad.
 Sep 2013 Jimmy Kerr
Lin Cava
The Kestrel and the Dove

Friday night
Saturday afternoon
Sunday in the morning
you are quiet
a ghostly wisp;
a gossamer veil:
a scent on the breeze

I recall the doves
cuddled together in their tree
coo-cooing gentle love songs
even as they sleep
and I wonder
Are you coo-cooing once more?
…and is she of the same feather?
…does she sing to you a different song
in the same coo-cooing voice she crooned
before
in your not so long ago past?

Your need is strong
to be turtle-doving,
softly loving
and though your tune
is soft and haunting
in those refrains from long ago
you are different,
forever changed.

You are a kestrel,
set free, at last.

The Kestrel and the Dove
though together for this brief hour
can never again
be bound by love.

Lin Cava
31-August-2013
 Sep 2013 Jimmy Kerr
Wanderer
He was a fire *******
Born with hungry veins and an eye for danger
A quick smile with a sparkling eye captivated
Those who stood close enough
Through barefoot and a hundred more
He danced the melody of carefree living
Unfortunately his time here was too short
Playing  that hard left him blue
Three a.m. knows his story
His tastes,  his memories
His laughter still echoes
Tears fall unchecked
Puddling at our feet for his loss
We will mourn him until the end of our own fire
For once we burn out we will join his again
To Jordan. Heroine is poison. You left us far too soon. Rest in peace. 9/10/13
 Sep 2013 Jimmy Kerr
F White
Slit
 Sep 2013 Jimmy Kerr
F White
stepping beside myself
slipping sideways

leaving
my soul
by the fireside, to watch the
coals lose their heat

being a shadow that
only cats see

is that what it's like
to go to
Sleep?
copyright fhw, 2013
 Aug 2013 Jimmy Kerr
Lin Cava
Remember When Love Was New...

...and bodies and minds had *** and love
all jumbled up together,
as if one were symbiotic to the other?

Remember when love was new,
and we went to bed naked,
woke up naked,
touched?

Remember?

Sometimes it might have been
one of either
a blessing or a curse.

In the name of children,
we hid our nakedness
akin to those before us
in the garden
who suffered the awakening.

Should have stayed stupid.
Should have shunned that tree of knowledge.
But then, we'd be no more than animals.

Ta dump dump.

Remember when the feel of clean sheets
against naked skin was enough to
have us start the dance.

And dance some more in the naked
mornings that followed.

We are naked.  No matter how we
dress our lives, we arrive, and leave
with nothing.  Naked.

Some of us struggle just to stay warm.
Others of us are always in heat.
Sometimes, we are frigid in our nakedness,
fruitless despite the dance.

Remember when love was new?
Do you still go to bed naked,
only to sleep?

Ah, but dream.
Dream in your nakedness
and I shall know you.
I shall search for you.
And beware, my love,
for I shall find you.
And though I may be chilled
in this age of mine
I will arrive naked, and warm you.*

Lin Cava
16 - July - 2013
500 years of conquest
500 years of oppression
500 years of struggle
500 years of resistance

500 years of globalization
500 years of plundering
500 years of capitalism

I am a child, of the children, of the masses
Rising from Latin America
Of the and in alliance with...the oppressed of the world
White brothers and sisters haven't you seen your chains, too?
Because us colored children have long forgotten ours

But I'm tired of the chains...searching...where's my liberation gone?


Afro-Caribbean
Afro-Latino
African American
African
Indigenous
Asian
Middle Eastern
My people of color
Why can't we come together

Because we continue to be lied to
We continue to be denied
We continue to be subjugated
To the fact that we are subordinate
To something that is not us

That we are devoid
That we are empty
That we are workers and masters
With no mind or soul

We are the people without license
No legitimate place, in the periphery
Outside the margins
A threat to the safety of societies

Always the other, never part of we within discourses

We are the black slaves
In your blood and heritage Caribbean children
Your negation of us has been your ploy to secure your servitude to white supremacy in exchange for your economic stability.

We are the indigenous
That harvested and nurtured these beautiful Americas
Pests of conquest, you exploited our black brethren because we were not suitable for your exploitation. Instead you massacred us. Ever since confusing us with your mestizaje fodder.

We are the peasants, the servants, the broken families, the broken communities, the displaced peoples, we are the casualties, we are the unmitigated collateral damage:
Of revolutions, of wars, of conquests, of western civilization, of capitalism, of profit, of misanthropy

We are Trayvon  Martin, we are the 25 million families affected by Texas decision on abortion, we are the masses being left out by the recent reversal of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, we are the LGBT binational couples fighting for our rights, we are the undocumented community in solidarity asking TO BRING THEM HOME, we are the Brazilians demanding to be heard over the government's preoccupation with the preparations for the world cup, we are the everyday poor and homeless

From our peripheral places we are the ones that resist because otherwise we will die.

We are the ones that cannot afford to oppress anyone, because we are the most oppressed
Living in a system that pushes even those who are the most oppressed to mimic the system's usage of oppression
When there's no one else to oppress, still being aware of ourselves, we try

My Latin American brethren don't tell me that Haiti's silenced past does not pertain to you
They fought for the universal rights of everyone, doesn't that include you?
And because of that its revolutionary past has been dismantled within history discourses
So that other colored children of the world like you would not dream to resist their own oppression

My Latin American and Caribbean brethren stop negating your blood, culture, history...Don't you see it has been deliberately silenced so that you cannot understand yourself? Because to understand yourself, is to love yourself, is to realize the potential of you, is to resist anything that doesn't allow you to be you

African, and indigenous historical actors laid down their lives so that you could exist
The puddle that formed out of the rivers of indigenous and black blood is all red. Isn't that enough for you to understand that our oppression is tied, that we must defend each other.

Our tool against oppression is not money or guns.
The greatest fortress of the oppressed is our mind.
History is our weapon.

Our histories are powerful
Granting us consciousness
Giving us bravery
Dispelling lies and shattering the silencing of our power.

Let us nurture our colored children to love their histories
That they may understand the common experience of oppression of the masses the world over
That they will be ready and able and accountable
To the continued act of resistance of the oppression of any human being.

We are the ones that cannot afford to rely on ourselves, we are the vulnerable ones, we are the ones with targets on our backs, we are the ones in constant threat, we are the beautiful middle eastern peoples being targeted as terrorists and extremists, we are the poor with undiagnosed PTSD, we are the undocumented parents and adults with lost dreams, we are the inner city kids who have been lost to drugs, crime, and STDS, we are the ones that let others decide our rights

We are ones that must form alliances with each other, we are the ones that find strength in numbers, we are the ones that need allies in positions of privilege, we are the ones that must create the revolution through the power of our minds, not the wars, tool of the oppressors.

We are the hopes and the dreams that have faded from our parents, and grandparents, we are the revolutions that never came for the slaves, the servants, and the peasants of our heritage

We are the most dangerous obstacle to oppression.
Dormant in us is the promise of the liberation I've lost.
July 27, 2013
Being human can be incredibly painful
But to be human...to truly feel like a realized human being
is to feel powerful...is to feel an out-of-body experience
because we realize that we are beautiful, brilliant...
and deserve to feel what it means to
TO BE FULLY HUMAN and nothing less.

That our dreams, our aspirations, and our capabilities
cannot be restricted by artificially constructed restrictions.
And because of that we cannot allow under any circumstance
for the humanity of anyone to be negated.

That every inhale we take without helping legitimize the humanity of one more,
Is further securing the chaos which threatens our own.

That to love another human being,
no matter how strange or familiar, difficult or easy
Is to really understand the profoundness of our own humanity...
Is to love ourselves.
And because of that we cannot fathom a world
Where anyone is negated the ability to love.

Whereby the consciousness of our fullest potential
Understands no artificial restrictions
Knows no terror, war,or attack that can silence the eternal soul of its truth
And can only conceive of a world where everyone's humanity is legitimized
August 19, 2013
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