Wakanda4Ever
For being a realization of a place, we’ve only ever seen in our dreams
For depicting the diaspora
Pan-Africa, futurism for the first time on the big screen
Wakanda4Ever
For ameliorating images of the continent revealing its beauty without reservation, or subjugation
For pulling from African nations imbuing African culture without ominous purpose or evasion
Wakanda4Ever
For providing representation that politics and cinema often lack
Revealing that in 2018, a man can be king, world leader, and protector
At the same time 100% black
Wakanda4Ever

Where does it go
that hour
when clocks
go back
or forward?

Does time stop
to welcome
Spring's return,
bidding the
Winter - farewell?

Or, pause
for  Summer's
lease to bring
in Autumn's
early eves?

No: sleep lost
or gained
holds secret
the time
and the hour.

Change as you
may the hands of
watch or clock:
the sundial shadow
falls unaltered.

TOBIAS

I can't sleep
Everytime I remember your words
They snap and recoil
And hurt me awake
Next time when someone
Promises me forever
I'll just smile
Look them in the eyes and ask
How long is forever to you.

Colors of emotions
form into the ocean
so vast
dark
its depth immense

The hallow eyes
of a lost and broken child
waiting for a sign
a sliver of hope

Beckoning for a reason
to let her heart stay
while at the same time
knowing nothing will ever change
what's affected her

How the truth
can't be erased

Taking a deep shaky breath
she lets the darkness swallow her
in hopes of finding the light
that seemed so far out of reach

No, she isn't a poet
has never inked one
she takes off my weight
gets my things done

so I have enough time
to afford in a way
the luxury of rhyme
clever wordplay!

No, she isn't a poet
not written one line
clean is her slate
sees I'm fine

so I have enough space
and hour of my own
to indulge the grace
of thoughts mind grown!

No, she isn't a poet
no way she would be
she does her best
to see I'm happy

so my words run smooth
poems are easy born
truth and half truth
are spun night and morn!

No, she isn't a poet
cares not a bit
from her toil's sweat
my poems birth sweet

poems aren't her art
in the sun and showers
she grows from her heart
our garden's best flowers!

a stone
             that falls
                              down a
                                               hill,
                                                        rolls.
a­ mind
                that escapes
                                        reality,
                                                       exceeds.
but a
           heart that
                              bleeds out
                                                   tolerance,
                                                      ­               breaks.

The doctors gave me a pill not to feel
You place hands on me to heal
I try not to make this a big deal
I try not to make this a big deal

I'm trying not to deal
But I live in a casino
and the currency
is my sanity

I deal in sin
I deal in skin
Please don't take your hand away
I want to cash out

I want to let go of all of this
and tear up the deed
I want to sell everything
I want to go out of business
I want to wake up and whisper
Here once stood Casino Depression