I'm in pain because I possess too much.
Others cause pain because they don't possess enough.

I'm listening to opposition.
Is there anything else?
The bird perched on the winter branch
cursing itself?
I've got two hands filled with empty,
like distance relates to envy.
And in the quiet stillness of this Midwest winter night
my shoulders become heavy.
My heart flirts with steady.  
My head calculates ready.
You wipe tears from my cheek and nose.
You're telling me to let them flow.
"Don't wipe them away."
I have nothing to say but that I am
afraid.
And I can't even say it.
The words are a bayonet at the end of the gun I hold to my head.
Is there requiem here?
The forest trees made clear in the fog of my disillusion?
The clever twist of fate that thickens my confusion?
Sometimes I doubt if I were made for this life.
I doubt the strings that fate has wound around our hearts
and save for my frown, my face seems to show the world
nothing.
Who or what am I becoming?
No longer the grouch, the fastidious mouse, or the the hermit.
I can not be the addict or the martyr in the skirmish.
And I am not in search of identity. I know me.
But I don't know this place inside of all the waste that has been this life.
I have only two things that are worth anything: their lives.
The courts are waiting, but the jury's still out on the verdict.
Not "Do I deserve them," but, "Do they deserve it?"

You let me live
when i should've died.
That wasn't as kind as you probably thought it was.

Imaginary blood
still drips from
this imaginary knife wound to the gut.
It's staining my psyche
with the uneasy remembrance
of you
letting me live
on a whim.  

Those eyes,
that mouth that spat those twisted lies
and dubbed them truth
just to make me feel better,
made me feel the complete opposite.
The acknowledgment
of being alive
not because your succeeding in life
but
because your doing so poor
that others can do nothing but pity you
is one of the worst feelings in the world.
How dare you give me such charity.

Next time
go through with it.
Don't stop midway in transit,
inches away from impact.
Even though the knife didn't touch
it's sharp presence still cut me.

I don't write poetry,
poetry
writes me.
It pulls my emotions
from deep within
slapping them on paper
into a lyrical spin,
into rhymes of sorts
helping me
to better deal with them.
  
Painful at times, yes
but
when a doctor
reallocates
your shoulder back into it's right place
it's only for the better.

Ironic how
the medicine for my soul
is found in the same place
as the wound.

No Justice. No Peace.
We're killed for jaywalking,
But are expected to remain at ease.

We're seen as looters.
When terrorists are heroes.
And never unjust shooters.

They "protect and serve."
They protect each other.
Whether its inhumane doesn't matter.
Then they serve morgues...
with young black bodies on shiny silver platters.

They don't want to hear us.
So we're told to remain peaceful because it's easier to ignore a sound that isn't being made.

And if we remain quiet the passion for wrong doings will begin to fade.

Black people are ashamed of each other for rioting in their own community. But it doesn't belong to us.  So feel free to burn down gas stations and break the windows out of a Toys"R"Us.

We'll be executed in suits. We'll be executed in sweats. We'll be executed when we're armed and We'll be executed when we pose no threat.

So scream if you have to.
Let it all out.
Fight fire with fire.
It will grow, and eventually someone will put it out.

Because remaining peaceful has gotten us nowhere.

When we're peaceful they don't care. They torment us. And we're mocked. And are attacked with tear gas while rubber and wooden bullets are being shot.

So don't shoot. But when you need to. Shoot back.
I want us to be able to raise children who won't be murdered for being big while black.

And it isn't in the U.S.A.
Where Unjust Shootings are Admissible.
And Uniformed Shooters are Admired.

So fight back. Even though we're already so tired.

Staggering around*
-Tis' the middle of the night-
Ouch! That was my foot.

Innocent tornado of joy,
adorable wind of air,
I'm blown away
by your presence.

Your energy
simply put
raw exuberance,
overwhelms me
in to submission.

Caught in your gust
lost in your playful spin,
I never had a chance.

Your just too cute!! :)