write by plucking words from your brain
write to read them again despite the pain
write so that your heartache may drain
write for purpose or perhaps in vain
write in a room, a bus, or even a train
write beyond your imagination’s plane

My favorite time to go to the ocean-
Is when the crowds leave,
The umbrellas go away,
And the darkness of night falls upon the sand.
The stars glisten like the diamonds they are,
And I just sit,
And listen to the waves pound against the shore.
Because no one else is around,
They tell me their secrets,
And speak to me stories of long journeys.
I listen for hours until I become tired,
It makes me sad to leave,
But I can only wish,
To come back tomorrow.

Where the stardust sky kisses the black river
lies the hermit’s hut.

he lives there alone.

sleeping and waking with the tides
soaked in riverine dew
bathed in southerly rain
mellowed in winter’s shallow sun,

without love..

but for his cat

that unbeknown to him
sinks for his love
dying quiet death of dream

in the black river brimming with fish!

y** ou are
o ne of a kind,
u nique,

a bright star in the night sky,
r oyalty, made
e specially for this very

s econd in time, you are
p recious and
e nchanting and you have a
c aptivating
i nner beauty
a nd
l ovely darling, you are special.

From my pal whiskey a peg I borrow
To drown therein my load of sorrow
It takes no time for the peg to be gone
But my darned sorrow not leaves me alone!

I plead with whiskey to lend one more
As my empty glass is quite an eyesore
A ****** liberal he pours me more
Still not gone sorrow when pegs are four!

My cheeks are flushed red and hot
One on one he pours me shot
Can’t stop me though a *****’s son
My sorrow still flows in plenty gallon!

The more he pours more get me dumbed
My brain takes leave thinking is numbed
From the empty glass sorrow winks a smile
I hear it say *won’t leave you a while!

Why of death be afraid

When living looks visibly dead!

darling,
don't listen to them.
don't listen to the naysayers,
don't listen to those that say
that you won't make it,
that you're not worth it,
that you're not enough,
because darling,
you will make it.
you are worth it.
you are enough.
shine your light,
tune them out,
and sing your own song.

You hate my poems
You say they take me from you
that they're pointless
a waste of time
maybe you're right.
You read them,
just the words as they fall,
and say you get nothing
just syllables.
I have lost count
of the sighs and eyerolls,
the you have no talents,
they sit in a memory box
along with the times you've asked me to stop.
Stop.
Just like that.
Stop pouring myself onto paper,
Stop looking for beauty in darkness,
Stop healing.
You prefer me broken, fragile, dependant,
the girl you took from nowhere to god knows where
a once pretty, broken thing
to hang silently from your arm
while you talk proudly of the soul that you saved.
You fear that my writing will end us.
I fear that my stopping will end me.

Took a trip down to Chinatown  jus to take a browse  
walk in and I'm instantly mesmerized by the art  I found
the culture with so many secrets
I feel like its my job to leak it
even though I'm black and I can't even speak it
I feel a connection hidden beneath it
the honor and loyalty  they portray has me sprung in some sort of way!  
Life is amazing with so many different cultures
I jus want to sit down and absorb all the culture
sittin in a tree posted like a vulture just taking it all in this life of emotions  
little bitty things make me happy like sittin and postin
watching life go by  4 wheels as the motion
I'm jus posted in a tree writing these poems hoping one day I will get to expose them!
Life is bigger then the money we chase
life is better when were sharing our plates
the world would be better not divided by states and our lives would be better if it weren't focused on race.
I love my life even with my mistakes may not have everything I want
but at least I have my faith!