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I.
verdant fingers poke
through sugar-dusted hillsides
nature dons spring thread

II.
eighteen-year old quilts
flowery detergent quilts
bed bare, without you

III.
love is dualism
the umbrella and the rain
hope and the horror

IV.
for stardust we are
unto stardust we return
soon all things shall end.

V.
my still-beating heart
torn by thorns and razor wire
never, ever, love a liar.

VI.
we swim among clouds
our planet turned upside-down
heavens full of dirt.

VII.
a whispering wind
wanders far and wide across
plains of wilted grain
What are we, really?
For as long as we have been able,
Humans have looked skyward and wondered.

Wondered about the timbre of our voices
About the pastel shades of our skin.
When we are cut, why do we all bleed the same red?

About our origin.
About our purpose.
About our murky past and our luminous future.

What are we, really?
As a species we are collectively stumped.
We have journeyed far.
From trepanning the ill, ventilating their skulls to drive out malevolent spirits,
To carefully calculating the oscillations of distant stars.

And yet,
Despite our ingenuity, despite our ambition, despite our progress,
The truth still escapes our inquisitive grasp.
What are we, really?

Are we god's chosen flock?
Are we simply another infinitely random arrangement of carbon atoms? Flesh and gristle and calcium deposits?
Are we overgrown simians with overgrown egos and obnoxious sense of importance?
Or are we a simulation? Ones and zeroes on the motherboard of the cosmos?

What are we,
Really?
He
He- was alone
Oh so alone

He - wandered life’s paths aimlessly
He - was just another face on a busy Baltimore street
She - floated in on a summer breeze
She – lifted him from the gutter
And calmed his stormy seas
She - stole his heart
And locked it away and
He – didn’t seem to mind
She – gave him reason to write
And reason to fight
He – held her close in the fading light
He – promised he’d never leave.

He – returned home,
To learn, to grow,
He - felt absence as a knife between ribs
He - cursed the gods
The buddahs and the allahs
He – just wanted something to go right.
She – told him that everything would be alright
He – didn’t know if he’d last the night.
He – felt his mind toss to and fro
He – simply had to let her go.

He – thought it was for the best and when
He – realized his mistake
She – was already gone.

He – is alone
Oh so alone.
I read this poem aloud, you can listen to that here: https://soundcloud.com/blaxstronaut/he-spoken-word-poem
I would like to run my five fingertips
all over your carnal curves and contours
in every crevice, crack and concavity
in the vast canyons of your brilliant mind
dive into the ocean of your subconscious
delve into the deep valleys of your psyche
spelunking in the caves of your desires
uncover the ancient arcane secrets
hidden in the space behind your vibrant eyes
let us lay among the old oaks and laugh
arm in arm, soul in soul, floating upon
velvet sunsets on sweetest summer days
until the oceans dry, the ground cracks, and
the sun dies, I will never leave your side.

— The End —