“The one thing you shall not eat,
Can devour what you be.
The Red sweetness holds thee;
Core of poison, core of deceit.”

For many others without conscience tells,
They chant lies, they clang bells.
For power is not its conflict of corruption,
But a light to evil, a light of destruction.

Apple drops a head of thought.
Others, however, are long got.
For they have no will,
long gone they sought.

They boldly think, they blindly condemn,
Yet logic’s truth eludes each of them.
Because, presence wises the bird of them.

The worm that eats, the sweetness it brings.
The bird eats it so, masqueraded in wings.
For knowledge only gives moths light,
the tempt to corruption, arrogance flight.

And no told that numbers are right,
No knowledge of order, ultimate sight.
They chopped the apple tree, fuel it alight.
Now, they pay their price, their final blight.

my work sprouts from the simplest indeterminate sense




                                               depicting more than verge death organisms


         freshly ground expectations are composted alongside considered
                                                                ­                                          traditions


          ­                       allowing our vigorous grip of normalcy to disperse


    changing infancy energy into visceral landscapes of amplified color




                                                       ­                                       a falling into rest





where we can blossom into our own embodied environments

Normalcy is a strange word.
No definition is certain and
allowed to be called “normal”.
Differs in different lands.
And never asks for
Hate to come in its absence.
And no-one can seem to fulfil it.
Normalcy seems like a dream far away,
in a distant land that is strange.
Sometimes,
I wonder if anyone is normal.
If not,
Normalcy is perfection.
We strive for it.
And we practice diligently.
And fail to achieve it wholly.
Yet we find normalcy
that is perfection partially.

I wake up everyday to the sight of the New Normal
Open my ears to the sounds of the news
A black man killed before he could breathe
A child bombed before he could eat
And I think
What is normal?
What is rest?
What is hope?

Normalcy doesn’t sound normal these days
Rest doesn’t sound restful these days
Hope doesn’t sound hopeful these days
And I wish they did anyway

I wish writing, making art, cooking,
playing games, short naps, or social media
Were enough to make us forget about
Restless civilizations
These days
Heartless politicians
These days
Senseless discrimination
These days
The failures of the system
These days

I sit with my heart on my hand
Comprehending nothing at all
These days
While chaos all around us ensues
These days
And months seem to go by as quickly as they can
Yet nothing seems to change
Racism is still racism
War is still war
Hate is still hate
These days

And yet we’ve just realized
These days
How much we valued other days
And there’s no longer any returning to
Those days
Cause if it took us a pandemic to realize
How much we’ve failed those who needed us the most
On days
We’ve looked past reality
Just to see what we wanted to see
And believe what we wanted to believe in
That we chose right
That we’d never be able to fear going out
Since we’ve kept ourselves inside our social bubbles
That kept us from seeing
That everyone else had always been suffering
Before these days
I’d rather have
These days

So what is normalcy?
What is rest?
What is hope
To those who couldn’t afford to have those in the first place?

But I’d like to think that we haven’t completely forgotten
Those days
I’d like to think there will be better days
Where we’ll finally be able to settle down all our differences
That we won’t differentiate black from white
That we’ll finally know wrong from right
And we’ll see that days
Are not just days
But everyday struggles for many to live
In a world that hates living so much

So don't just wish these days
Instead help these days
So that others may be able to live their days too
And not just you
Today.

I've had these dreams each night
I can't seem to remember names. Just bodies.
Faces Evade me
Action
Movement
Conversation
Volume
Touch
All my senses engaged to the inertia, the energy, the power-
Each night I come back to this palace.
The Watering Hole
of a society who's waking life has been forced into sleep
People destined to find one another
Hear one another
See one another
Feel one another
We are all but dreams to eachother.
Wishing to wake up to a reailty that for the first time
is sweeter than dreams.

Defense and apprehension keeps me
Should i mention this immense, ascending feeling reaping me?
The reeling out of sight
bright, shining at the sight if you.
You shine for me
You shine on me
I'd be hardly known, uneasily and seemingly roam, not free form from room to room, in and out an unavoidable
unavailable vacancy of gloom.
In bloom, my flowering budless, aweless, awfully lawful, peer-free, though id cease to be not flawless.
I want nothing more than this.
God i want you
I need you to feel what i have when i see you see me feeling you. I love you.

So you say PINK is the color of BLUE
Blue meaning me and You
Blood and tears sweat sadness from fears
I am full
Yet we are empty
Maybe it's just me

I'm a pink period monster
Who death had begun her

Death of Innocence
'Death of Silence
Death of Normalcy

Because between you and me
We can be free
PINK, red
Ice BLUE to undead