The wokeness is so deep: they're sleeping.
Clueless legions are on the march . . .
Ignorance has Wisdom weeping;
The wokeness is so deep they're sleeping
Through the harvest, and the reaping.
Behold the view from Titus's arch:
The wokeness is so deep they're sleeping—
Clueless legions are on the march.

Patricians have our best interests in mind.
Administration is impartial, kind.
Keeps us laughin’, keeps us singin’—
And I’m Hildegard of Bingen.

She gets it like she gets the working class;
My head is nodding, up my Marxist ***.
White woke wedding bells are ringin’
Happy Hildegard of Bingen.

Government will gladly redistribute.
As our paychecks sing eternal tribute.
Gangsta-leanin, frontin’, blingin:
Chill with Hildegard of Bingen.

Icecaps, like medieval saints, are HOT.
Climate is in crisis when it’s not . . .
Global warning: winter’s springin’
Heating Hildegard of Bingen.

Intersectionality has meaning.
Hormones lie, biology’s demeaning .
Genderfluid queens are kingin’
Checkmate, Hildegard of Bingen.

Transnationals are cleaning up the mess;
Their CEO’s have little to confess.
Silver in the till, ka-chingin’
Profits Hildegard of Bingen.

Hildegard, the Moorish maiden, lauded.
Wokeness smiled. Diversity applauded.
Flames ascend and seraphim are wingin’
To the throne of Hildegard of Bingen.

let me in.
I wanna drown and lie in every fibre of your mind and being 'cause
you are a rare commodity, a gem supreme
I'd even go as far as saying I'm a fiend,
a fix of your being my headline of activities.
muhle, you are beyond a sweet dream
and I believe. you and I could. could just. be

let me in.
our souls coincide and mine is gently pleading
let me in,
don't fight the urge and this feeling,
it's far more than a hunch.
any place with your presence turns to a beau hub
I swear this beyond, a crush
your aura is unmatched and really soars
beyond the solar system
and I've flown so high 'cause of your mere being.

Lord Jesus, I thank thee for such an amazing blessing
truly showing that one don't need vices to stay flexing
her beau soul leaves me awe stricken and smilin' hella,
may she everlastingly flourish and remain staying better

mammi, let. me. in.
I vow to nurture your beau soul
and make you the happiest since cartoons and coke
I am beyond sold,
paradise resides in your ever gorgeous self
and I am by all means convinced the night stars steal their shine from your eyes,
plus you glo.

I swear this is not for show
(well, slightly is)
I am really taken by your wokeness and bold statements
being in your presence is far from basic
man, this sets me in my paces and it's real amazing how,
you're such a wonderful soul who embraces this.

so, I plead and beg
make me the happiest in this world we live in
I'm open and hung with pegs over you
all I ask is you simply
L E T.
M E.
I N.

side hugs are like
performative wokeness;
shallow, flaky, meaningless
convenient, censored -
appealing, yes?
appeasing, too, i guess.

but no
i demand the real deal
furnish me with both arms
disregard my weak frame,
i promise, i wont break
let me have it
im not a snowflake
just a girl who
likes to take
on the world
with hugs
as her weapon of choice.

no day's the same
some days
you'd awake with agitation
and anxiety
singing with a fiddle and a drum only you hear
some days
you'd awake with an unusual
and unexpected felicity
and when asked why, you'd say
'oh, i awoke on the right side of my bed'
some days
how you feel would be undecipherable
other days
you'd question your wokeness
when life throws a new day at your face
do not stall or growl
for she throw at you a priceless chance
and what does one do with chances?
                                  © Valerie-Pearl Oyo.

I was dead for a billion years before
And i will be dead for a billion more
It's this trickling time between
That i perform on life's dancing floor

A dance, a terrible one it is
I weep and cry, I slumber i please
As the waves of living go up and down
I wish more wokeness, I wish more sleep

The most powerful of creatures, unbound and free
The greatest thinker who could ever be
You smallest of specks, an insignificant wee
I feel it in you, you feel it in me.

The softest of breeze the darkest of nights
The largest of beings who blinds the light
We've been all tapping around this dancing floor
We're all gems of a crown or too less for it's might

Like them triplets in their never ending lore
You'll have me lost yet you'll fine me more
Lend an ear to me then and you'll find me dancing still
For i was dead for a billion years before
And I will be dead for a billion more

it's the day before my driving exam and i still don't know how to parallel park. i'm sitting in the passenger seat as my mother drives to our old church. this space no longer holds me. i stare blankly at the bug smeared across the windshield and hope my silence will be mistaken for submission.

we sit in the right wing of the chapel, half way up the staircase. i make eye contact with the girl i made out with last summer in the youth pastor's office. she is all sour cherries, collarbone tan lines, and the taste of salt water on my tongue. she abruptly turns and whispers something to her friend. the friend gasps, clasps her hands together, and starts to stammer, "Dear Lord.."

love the sinner, hate the sin. this love is choking me.

i know they pray for me over melancholic sermons, stale pizza, and gospel songs. then they write slurs on my locker, ***** me, and try to turn me straight all for the glory of God. i wonder if anyone ever thinks to pray for them.

the pastor starts to list things he considers abominations: bruised avocados, atheists, wokeness, his ex wife. my eyes glaze over.

as a child i learned "lesbian" was a bad word before i learned it was a part of my identity. i was taught that my love is inappropriate, immoral, nothing more than a **** category most commonly searched by the same boys that tell me to rot in hell.

thats when it starts, the same speech i've heard my whole life.

i am a sinner.

my sin is love. my sin is loving so deeply that i was able to reframe my thoughts, overcome the preconceived ideas planted in my mind as a child that preached hatred and shame and passing judgement onto strangers.

for once, i do not stay. i do not endure it. i stand up, fix my skirt, and climb over my mother, her eyes fixed on the pastor, nodding along. i walk out of the chapel and 2.1 miles down the highway. my mother does not come after me.

there are parts of me that she does not know how to love and has no desire to learn how.

my family always jokes that the dog is my mother's favorite child. i watch the way she meticulously brushes her fur, holds her when she cries during storms, and loves her regardless of the mud dragged down the sterilised corridor of the house.

i take comfort in knowing she cares about something, i just wish it were me.

Try to capture these emotions
Pull you closer
Hold your ghost in
When I’m wandering
Alone in
All the words I left unspoken
When this cloak
Of holy wokeness
Loses confidence
Assured
Tomorrow you will still
Have reason
To return me to your door
Where wanting more
For us
Immutable
Still silently subsides
And acquiesces to whatever
We’re together she decides