The hull
Is his skull
Damaged and cracked
Childhood
Fractured
Teenage bliss
Bashed
Existence rocks smashed
His cradled youth brain
Over
    And over
        And over
            Again

The mast
Is his past
Black tattered sails soared
Plundered his splitting mind
In the depths he explored  
Left him drowning
Then washed up  
And stranded ashore
Consumed by his drinking
Anchored in thinking
These bones nothing more
Than the sinking
    The sinking
         The sinking
             Deplore

The stern
Is his spine
The helm of his motion
With no wheel it bends
To his current emotion
Emptiness craving
The weight of this ocean
A storm-weathered back
And eroded ribcage
Set a course for astray
As he drifts
     Ever further
         And further
             Away

The bow
Is his sternum
Sunken chest treasure
Greed sleeps in its hold
Through selfless endeavor
Still coveting gold
Yet pounding desire
White-cap knuckles slam
Against ego waves
Like a battering ram
Towards an island of purpose
His bones can stand for  
After yearning
    And longing
        And lusting
             For more

His heart
Precious cargo
Still breaks as it's thrown
To the soul-crushing blue
Lovelessness all alone
He clings to frail hopes
And starves to taste home
Yet thirsts for her fair
Aphrodite sea foam
To kiss his bones bare
This shipwreck skeleton
Over
   And over
       And over
          Again

sunny afternoons in the mall
strawberry ice-cream dripping
onto the manicured lawn
we'll laze in the shade of the big oak tree
you fall asleep while I try to speak

we make angels in the snow
your lines are sharp and defined
in the light mine falls in shadows
I store away the laughter
you leave around so carelessly

under the warm whites
steam is still rising
from your coffee mug
you left untouched
the wind chimes by the door
sound like your smile
sound like the ending of a day

there are
millions
of reasons
to stay
in bed

pillows
matress
&
blankets
are a few

the way
the sun
is blocked
by curtains
is another

morning air
void
of sadness
negativity
&
pain
is another

but
there are things
that make you
get out
of it

like her
smile
voice
&
existence

the grandfather of slavery
wage labor
is an abusive relationship
domestic demise of humanism
I cannot tolerate or stand my light skin
I want to lay in the blazing sun
until I am burnt beyond recognition
a raging fire that catches anyone near
I cannot stand that white people
think I fit in
just to end up realizing I do not
I want to fight my way out
with language and brute force
until whiteness realizes
clearly
in a broken impotent rage
that it does not fit in
not in the world of the future
not in the world of ethnicities
having passionate ***
as its desperation of indulgence
greed
guilt
and brutality fade back to evolution
sustainability throws it aside
I am the medium
the vessel
the glory
of nature