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  Dec 2014 T Thomas
curlygirl
Find a Poet Not a poser, not a "it's just a hobby" poet. Find one who mumbles lines as they scramble for a pen at breakfast; who shakes their head randomly when their thoughts aren't rhyming properly;  who has notebooks stashed around the house that you must never touch.
2. Listen Savor the spoken words, for those are harder to express. Keep in mind that they can't be edited and re-written, and be forgiving when a mistake is made.
3. Read The body speaks as loudly as words on a page do. When their eyes are closed or focused on the ceiling and the fingers are tapping out syllables, recognize the unique process. Respect the need for quiet, because if you look closely, you can read the poem on their face before they write it on the page.
4. Write Write your story together. Grab hold of the pen and hang on as you move across the page of life. Sometimes you will dance across, others you will be dragged. You may have to cross out a word, or a line, or a page, but don't give up. Discouragement is a poet's biggest enemy, inarticulateness their biggest fear. So end each day with a semi-colon, because the story will never end the way you think it will, and there must be room for more. There is always room for more, more words, more laughter, more tears, more love,
When you love a poet.
  Dec 2014 T Thomas
Luna Lynn
you ask me what it's like to be black
and i'll tell you it's a warm soulful fulfilling feeling
like a pair of new Chucks on the hot pavement jumping scotch on a busy summer day
eating cool iced pops and not ever being afraid
and smelling the warm carmel cake cooling on the stove
and the togetherness on a Sunday evening in grandmama's home

but you ask me what it's like to be black
in america
and i'll fall silent of conversation
because as you see history repeats itself
i don't understand why there is still need for explanation
in deep adversaries and hateful unappreciation
here we stand to be questioned by an authoritative negation

and ignorant folk,
why do you ask me such things?
why are you people mad?
why is it about race?

and i'll ask you, why does the caged bird sing?
is he not entitled to his song or his wings?

as green as the earth and as blue as the sky
i will only explain to an ear willing to listen
to a being with a sound heart and a firm mind
because as God as my witness we were created as equal

and for that given right we must die?

i will sit back and in turn ask you why;
i bet you couldn't say
and maybe we will all learn the answer some day
so join me in prayer will you?
join me as i pray:

to the children of Chicago
who can't go out to play
to the sons and fathers of
Missouri and Florida and New York
who will never again see the light of day
to the mother's pain that may fade
but won't ever go away
to the hateful people and their hateful words and their hateful ways
God won't You heal their pain?


they're so ******* us, Lord
now we're ******* ourselves
and on our knees we have fallen
needing guidance and help
because it isn't about being privilged
or living for the light we're consumed in

being black in america is no longer about being accepted as black

it's about being accepted as human.
(C) Maxwell 2014
  Dec 2014 T Thomas
Kendall Rose
I didnt lose anything the day that you kissed my red lips,
told me that you liked them swollen this color instead of painted it.
I didn’t lose anything when you kissed down my neck and across my collar bone and all the way down into my soul.
I don’t think I lost anything the day we kicked off our socks and shoes and shimmied out of our jeans
When we crawled under the covers and into each others hearts,
whispering words that I can still feel againt my skin long after your touch has faded.
Christmas lights casting shadows that I chased across your jaw
Legs tangled and fingers twined,
we were more laughter and love
patience and passion
imperfection and beauty than I had ever felt in myself alone.
I don’t think I lost anything;
some part of myself that my mother was always telling me to protect.
*I think I may have even grown.
Why do people say "losing" your virginity??  You aren't losing a part of yourself, you aren't giving it away. So please stop telling me that this is something bad, something I should wait for; safe & consensual *** is a GOOD THING
  Dec 2014 T Thomas
fdg
sometimes impressed with life
because i get to sit at the end of your couch and tuck my toes under your leg
(it truly is the little things)
  Dec 2014 T Thomas
Syd
loving you
was like having heart burn
on the wrong side of my chest
and doing my best to pretend
that still I felt nothing
in all of the places where
you once touched me

neck
collarbone
the backside of my knees

you destroyed me from the inside out
with such delicacy
that at times
I convinced myself it wasn't even
happening

loving you was a disease
that I wish
I could remember having

but now
I simply
feel
nothing
T Thomas Dec 2014
My body feels like light air
in a reality where I don't feel completely there
Neither comfortable or out of place
I'm simply wandering through this space
My starry eyes are fixated on time
my colorful thoughts are worded in rhymes

I have recluded deep inside my mind
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