My heart's yearning, singing, flinging itself
our there to people with joy I

listened to the school nurse talk about
eating a mango with her bare hands

over the kitchen sink, red and ripe,
juice running down her arms

and I was so happy, I want to live where
ripe mangoes drip off trees.

where a mother wraps me up in her arms.
where it's too balmy to be afraid,

where I don't have to stand up straight,
back straight, don't have to live showing my fists

to show my back isn't bent, my heart is still beating,
my soul isn't dimmed or scuffed.

I want to write poetry that makes the
world sing and stories that give girls wings.

I want to be a child, unconcerned and wild,
wings at the heels of my feet, but
I want to help my sisters sing.

She had bid unto him, that a garden should be built. And he, with all the art he possessed, driven on by fire, had done so. He stands there now, alone in the dark, aching for her as he has never ached for anything else. Remembering the stories he had told her in the beginning, how it made him fill with light at the request. And he thinks of the strangeness of it, this soul that speaks as if it has walked out of the East on the heels of Rumi. How he can not ever seem to say these things aloud, how he fears the past has more power than the future. He wishes that he could have been given a book about her, so as to be all he can for her. This is how he communicates the deepest parts of himself, afraid that she will flee at too much tenderness, or think him weak and effeminate. Belief alone in her, and of what they share, is all that propels him forward. Knowing they have only begun, that his experience of her is merely a taste of what may be, he writes.

They tell you impossible
They tell you never happens
well is it possible that a man who left a school
is a man we all look up to and we mention his name when it comes to physics.
is it possible for a woman who used to serve soldiers and treat there wounds when she is just a none and to be known by nurses til this day.
is it possible that a fighter from Kentucky who was treated differently for his religion become one of the best known boxers of our time.
is it possible for a black nation to rise to freedom breaking the chains of slavery by a mans voice of freedom that is on blacks and whits tongues til this time and is celebrated for his courage.
is it possible for an Indian man to free his country from colonization and gather them to be one wall and one body against there enemy.
Now I ask you can you achieve the possible?
can you look at these greats and become the greatest.
can you look past the I can't and I will not?
Face you fears as Nike say impossible is nothing
rise up and fight life with fists of steel.
cause no one can stop you and no one will.
the only thing that can hold you down is you and God.
Achieve, fight , sweat and bleed and you will get to a thing we all want.
Not to be great but to be legends

I might be  a little mad
A lot more than a little
But you'll never know it
You'll never see it
Except
If you let me take a peak
At your own madness
Give me a glimpse
Of your delighted delirium
Let me have a look
At your affable aberrations
Your lovely lunacies
And your faithful foolishness
And your foolish faithfulness
Give me a piece of your
Deceitful delusions
And your happy hysteria
And I'll give you a slice
Of my own crazy cake
Balanced with utter unbalance
And dire derangement
And adorable absurdities
And the naked truth
And mad, mad me
Show me your madness
And I'll give you,
Me.