The people that I know
Only acknowledge the big things
and push away the smaller things
as if there wasn't enough room for the smaller things
as if I didn't matter

I tried so hard
sending gifts
sending letters
remembering birthdays
remembering the little things

All they ever did was grunt
and heave
and sigh
because my efforts were too small

Christmas, birthdays, vacations
I had something for everything
and I gave everything I had
Not even one thank-you

All I really wanted
were for them to be happy
eventually giving almost everything
Everything that I owned
to see them smile

But they never did
They just commented
"This one is smaller than your last one"
And I'd just stand there
Stunned

I know a girl
That's pure beauty to see
Won't mention her name
As I feel there's no need

You'd know by her smile
Her sparkling eyes
The way she celebrates
Every aspect of life

Spending her day
Grabbing hold of the reigns
Taking the good thoughts she's got
And giving them all away

The way the wind clearly dares
To tousle her hair
As she breezes through life
With hardly a care

Yes I know I girl
Who's beautiful to behold
We all know who she is
Without her name being told

Alone,
Alone with nobody,
I walk down the gilded path
Of the moon
Snuffing out every hopeful star
Like those so far away
They blink in and out of existence.

Sorrow bleeds my mind,
I lament in soliloquy
Like a forgotten friend.

The dark night of melancholia
Spilled like a confession,
A dream grieved
Under the languishes of existence.

My heart adorned with memory
And tears suspended from time,
Her scent faintly in the air.

Oh the sorrows
In the Grey hours of solitude,
They slither like snakes
In cold Autumnal gardens.

I turn out the lights,
My hands stirring the pen
As I write the aloneness and her
Virtues at the delicate lips of night:

May Poetry understand
The beauty of sorrow.......

i can't be another statistic
i already made it this far
this world can't be that sadistic
that i am not so sure of, so far -
i see bloodshed of newborns
and lies from the preacher
i hear gunshots in the mornings
and lose track of the weekends
i barely notice the sky anymore
i rarely look you in the eyes anymore

America, I cannot close my eyes
Nor sheathe my skin color-
Which is that of which she was
Built upon-
Which was that where my ancestors
Were left under supremacists.

Look out and see the restless
Peoples rising with tides
Flourishing under nothing's banner,
How the planet has shrunken
Destroying proud origins
And lamenting the absence
Of patriotic diversity.

America I cannot look
Out in the wilderness of words
That cross this poet daily
And not fathom a poem that
Crosses borders and enigmatic
Skin tones, that water breaks
Itself upon the stone,
Yet blood would stain its surface,
Yes the sacrifice of fools.

I cannot close my eyes
Nor change my skin,
Here in the land of dreams
And the spinster's lamenting
Polishing blue and red tears.

America, much angst is flowing
From open wounds from yesterday
And tomorrow that comes crashing
At the precipice of dawn's early light.

I hear your pain America,
I watch with a selfish pride
At the pain we share,
The differences that unite us,
The words that explode in freedom,
Your stars are not lost
Upon the impenetrable sky.

In your depths you are one,
In the bitter difference of eachother
Filled with children and uncertainties,
We shall not fall gently.....

America, I cannot close my eyes,
I see the beauty of our nation,
America I cannot change my skin,
Nor would I care to.

America, beautiful mutilated rose,
I am convicted as a patriotic
Fool,
America I cannot close my eyes....

America, I will not.

All the silence does not mean
You are alone,
It is the world waiting for you
To listen;
And in the darkness you are
Found by the light
Of your hope.

And in the tears of your
Pain you are born,
There you become stronger
And it creates order.

Pick up your flesh as your spirit
Lifts,
And speak your happiness
As if the tip of your tongue
Was the mountain's peak
Speaking at the sky,
The burden is a caged bird
And only the conscious can set
It free.
And sing to yourself so that
You know you are never alone
In your body.

Know that your crazy is beautiful
Because it makes you YOU,
Wear your skin like
Your cozy blanket and cuddle
In the warmth of yourself.
     You are not broken,
But scattered like the night
With pieces like stars shining,
    Open your pain and yourself
To the wound of the world and heal
Whatever you choose.