I saw the other side of you today
The flip side to your coin 
Beneath the sparkle of joviality and passion
When we strip away the gloss of illicit corners and barely touching hands
Rinsing away the heady throws of passion and your alcoholic aftertaste 

I saw your rage
The underbelly
There was no beauty in your hurricane 
Only fear and anger 
The constellations I once saw in your eyes turning to pitch 
Maybe they were just reflections of my own

I saw you change. 
I don't think I know you anymore 
I'm not sure I ever did

DARK
In the dark a rat                                                     a rat with a stench as hard as ***
Lonely than the anthills of the Savanna                                                      ­wishing to one day listen to the sound of passing

Cold and unwilling rapt under the cloth of fear of the unknown wishing to have taken this part or that part

Confused like a light rat keeping the record of the past    instead of setting a new,  Wishing time could take a nap under the forgetting tree.
Never to be found.
Immortality even in the dark
Can you see the light?


           Peter praise

Left over moments lingering on a coffee cup,
the only kisses that were remembered were
stained in red a memory of where this painted
lips had left there singular mark.

She had kissed this taste with her thoughts on
only the aroma that lingered between each sip.
A woman of taste but a echo was left ingrained
as she dispensed her needing and left her mark

Sitting on the high stool her unmotivated palms
linger around the warmth of this enticing needing.
Languishing on it she takes one final sip, and then her
mark is one that will fade, and another's lingers on it.

Adorned on self, it hangs like wind
on the breeze statically woven on
form. Embroider of linguistic thoughts,
all in notions that are enriched but still
never totally fallen on its emotion.

Enhancing what was just embellished
reflections, now seen in the movement
of a yearning to expel but never descended.
just  passive in  the needing of its expulsion.

Ornaments that hang on my tongue, kept
in staled rejection. I only want to garnish
your yearning with what I'm trying to
embellish with these spoken words.

let me paint you a picture
in shades of black and white
in shades of those who ****
and those who fight
this is what racism looks like
black men with paper hearts
armed with cardboard swords
white men dipped in ivory steel
white men born armed with skin
it's a black man with hands
raised to the heavens
and seeing hell as his last sight
this is what racism feels like
it's your black breath
being ****** out of your lungs
by white hands of white men
dressed in blue gilded in gold
this is what racism sounds like
it's an 18-year old's last words
it's a mother's cry at a police station
it's a bullet racing through the air
this is what racism is
it is not poetry
it's a black man wearing a red shirt
and getting shot six times
this is no crusade
there is no holy purpose
this is the star-spangled truth
a flag drenched in black blood
this is the truth bared in ink
and no poetry can save it

An irrational fixation, an aberration of sense and reason, a heart committed to treason, betraying the self and the pursuit of peace

I'm a sad person
With a messed up mind
I am in a happy place
But I'm so far behind
Away from society
And what they say is 'right'
I do my best to stay away,
on my own path- the future is bright