The reasonable
Amongst the un
Will always be
The world against one.
But the tame
Reap their rewards
While the wild
Are maimed
And unarmed.

No battle is won by merely one man
It is won in the blood stained garments of many
It is not dictated by the resolve in his final stand
But the impact of the burden carried by all, on every step of the journey

“Battles”-JP

Her bones break
and
her body shakes,
trying to figure out
how much more she can take

nothing pushed my creativity
more than someone trying to
take my baby daughter from me
peaceful on the outside
kind
loving
focused
dedicated
to helping
I always wanted to save the world
now it is with unmatched
and inescapable vengeance
helping everyone
especially my students
with early childhood trauma
but deep down in my world of communication
expression
a whirlwind that no one really knows
but I must add
I now have absolutely no doubt
that the passion that has been
culminated in society
that I get to experience
comes from the shared experience
of children being taken into slavery
this is the destruction of the human origin
which we need to have a nice happy ending
we all come from Africa
not from slavery
and when I am a black man
all my lifetimes that have been
tortured and killed
for being accused of being angry
violent
******
by any means necessary
genocide of us
the only choice is creativity
and although this in itself
is also a threat
and will get me killed
atleast it does not satisfy
their lust for dismembering
my freedom
into their pickle jars
of liberty
for their children to save for their children

Today I battle
my own negativity
the dark side of
my moon
glowing cold
in the sear
of burns
those little
inflamed live
scars receiving
the salt
of tears
that I gather
in opaque blue
and indigo-hues
in the privacy
of the soft spaces
in the drawers
of my heart
little aches
that grow
as the hours
get smaller
little quakes
on low
in emotions'
faded squalor
and as I plunge
over that
spiritual abyss
draw in my
knees, let the
winds brush
my lips
in a mocking
lovers'  kiss
and try to catch
that beating mass
as it bursts
right through
my chest,
in broken slips
of shattered
glass
I tell myself
in whispers
"No, warrioress!
This time
you will not
be destroyed"
and I fling
my heart,
so bruised
into the
burning,
golden
void

There is an aching in my being,
When I see the look in your eyes.
If you were conscious,
there could be
so much more joy here.

But we're not liberated
by youth and hope.
You're ******* on ideas,
and I'm tied to my heart.
You can't see past my eyes,
The chambers I keep hidden.

My heart drums to the rhythm
Of your lonely, hurting desires.
You're craving love.
My heart's only drug:
Falling always for the broken one.

But I can't fix you.
I am not your exception.
Though I feel everything all at once,
with emotions not at all small,
I cannot bring comfort to your inner war.

When the day is done for the infantry,
they bow their heads and take a knee,
they clasp their hands and start to pray,
that they may live another day,
should a challenge for them ever arise,
they would proudly meet it with open eyes,
soldiers fight with the honor and pride,
moving any and all fear to the side,
a soldier's family and freedom is his core,
for wanting to ever fight a war.