Silence cannot be found in shadow;
     silence inhabits the green rooms of the heart.
Silence cannot be drawn from misery;
     silence lives on only when life is full.
Silence thrives when we are loud;
     silence can be found, only in certainty.

Resting in an icicle hammock
Between the only two trees on a tundra of thick tears
The world remain an uncolored book
Neutral sheets of parchment paper, it usually looks
Yet, visible remains the vermillion that dribbles from my dry nose
The only shade around, which resembles petals of rose
Tissues soak up ruby rain that drips and drips
Streams of scarlet sorrows and crestfallen crimson collect as they cascade in the crevice of lust lips
The warmth of it all still cannot melt the frozen bars of this cell
But I must enjoy the only tint that reveals itself
Even if it's lava tone resembles the terrain of desolate Mars or the sinful flames of hell
Soon these cherry rivers will make way for a new pigment
A hue I will soon be wrapped in
When too much of this spills, and strings of a flowing red licorice yield to simple black
~~~~~~~~~~~
*And in a faint yelp, he knew there was no turning back

I sometimes wonder
What morning think.
I sometimes wonder when, where, and why
My eye lashes blink.
I wanted to relax,
Take time and think.
Meditate before I start my day.
Before the sun came up and show the
World beautiful displays.
I wanted to write my poetry,
And recite my words,
Put curves of my life on paper
So my voice can no longer
Be heard.
I wanted to pick flowers,
Pray,
And grant wishes,
Maybe.
Just maybe,
I wanted to eat my breakfast,
And not clean the dishes.
Call it a lazy morning,
Before the sun comes up.
Its 4’oclock,
And the coffee makers is empty,
Right along with my cup.
It’s 5’oclock,
And yet the sun hasn’t risen.
I think I’ll play soft reggae.
Close my eyes,
And just listen.
It’s 6’oclock,
Maybe 6:30.
The sun is now up,
And the mocking birds
Are in a hurry.
Reggae,
And my curved lines are still
Telling a story.
It seems like
The coffee is on,
And my cup is ready.
My mind has stimulated.
My words are now written.
7’oclock is almost near,
And my coffee has started Beginning.

       Marci H.

As it seems sweet and good,
It turns sour and bad.
As it look hood and mean,
Most likely it’s a miserable queen.
As your mind make foul visions,
Your heart says ‘your no longer winning’.
As the world turn, and time leaves,
Your no longer happy, and full of grieve,
So please.
Can we all have our moment?
Can we all pass the bad?


                                      Marci H.

One day my grandma asked me,
Am I happy?
I didn’t quite understand
So I said ‘what happy at home’?
She responded and said
‘No happy with life’?
I stopped to think,
Lied and said ‘yeah’
But deep down inside
I was walking in hell bare.
Gripping on my blunt,
While the loud music blare.
Hell no I’m not happy!,
Hell no I’m not fine!,
Hell no I can’t sit down,
And have a good time.
It’s hard to trust.
Love will get you killed
So watch yourself that’s a must.
Struggling thru my hard times.
Wondering if my mama still love me.
Will God forgive me for all the dirt I did?
All the sins I sinned?
Would he still love a broken heart,
That wont mend?
Breathe smelling like gin.
Heart tighter than skin.
Will he still love me?
I was born innocent and precious,
But now I’m about to cut my verses,
Here’s the message.
I’m reppin’ and spittin’,
Snitches looking and tellin’,
Snakes movin’ in lesson,
But see I don’t know who’s real,
And who’s not.
My life tangled in a knot.
I’m about to put a red laser dot,
Sticking to your forehead like a blot.
Stand still while your ******* head
Get shot.
Gma I want to sleep on a Marriott!
I dreamed of having a chariot.
But now I’m making money out the
Sticky ***.
Gunned down with a 50 shot.
Life coming to you,
Don’t get popped.
Stop pretending to be
Something your not.
Your skin huggin’ your bones.
You out reppin’ and spittin’,
But where’s your home?
Mama I’m sorry for
Causing so much pain.
So much pain became a
Memory lane.
I dream of ridin’ gettin’ high,
In my own private plane,
But it’s a **** shame,
I’ve been set by squares,
And a bunch of lames.
Real ****** lose to win,
But **** ****** lose the game.
I’m looking at the world thru my review,
With low eyes, and blind eyes.
Blind eyes,
Its show time,
Showtime It’s my time.
Cause Gma I’m not happy.
I’m not happy!
I’m not happy!
I want to go to the gun range,
And shoot off the oozi,
**** a ***** in a Jacuzzi,
Sit back and watch him do me.
Then cut his *** off like a butcher.
I’m trying to chase my dreams,
Before they leave.
Lord forgive me for I am guilty of
Greed.
I want to be rich.
I’m tryin’ make it out the
Gutta but life such a *****.
I thought my home girl was down,
But come to find out she was a snitch.
I got better so I won’t leave her in the ditch.
It seems like my life,
Changes a little bit by the day.
Obama trying to take a stand,
And have something to say,
But **** them!
I’m going to do it my way.
There’s kids crying,
And people weeping.
Preachers preaching,
And mama still teaching.
It seems like the devil having
A field day,
But ******* satan,
Yo *** going in the grave.
I got to stand up,
And make it happened.
I’m going to be somebody,
Just save the clapping.
Gma I love you,
And to answer your question-
No I’m not happy.



Marci H.

Dear life,
If you could permit me one request
-my first and very best-
If I could ask only one, it'd simply be:
Can you please inspire me?

Sometimes we can just sit down
And
Bleed
Sometimes we just need
One more hand
(Maybe a few hundred more)

Sometimes we stand up
And
Fall
Sometimes we need more time to scrawl
A moment for this masterpiece we planned
(So what if it's just the first line)