Just past the Rastafarian berry tree
Where bully beef boys tattooed their love’s names
On the tree’s outstretched arms,
A forgotten remnant lay
In relic and rot, its air choked with damp mildew and dust.

Not wishing to join Garvey’s gang
Or bow before Selassie’s seat,
I left Jah’s clenched jig hanging,
Allowed the inkers to indent incessantly,
Going solo into the house of rubble.

What a treasure!
From smudged, stale mascara,
The aged beauty’s heavy, dim eyes
Cast dim shadows on her rough, ***** neck
On which I now trod barefoot.

Her necklace of knackered newspapers
Hollered hoarsely through the overlying cardboard boxes,
Lowly lisping, ”Sovereign shed my lady once was
And shall forever more remain. Look not at her wilted skin –
Consider only this immortal necklace and live forever therein.”

I just woke from experiencing what it felt to be free
of a doctrine, of this overlying immense pressure to be righteous and respectful,
that which I've inherited from my own expectations and from those of whom I admire.
I had been touched by something even bigger than my own self perseverance-
than my connections between "the wise,"
than my science that I hold so dear.
It's almost indescribable- so bear with me
as I dig through my consciousness for a dream that could just be a great answer to our confusions.
I felt myself sifting through a softened solid
that was smooth and sunset-hued.
It stretched around me but went through me all the same.
It was warm but refreshing.
It cleared away the dichotomies, the questions, the labels into a vast spaciousness that couldn't ever make me feel loneliness because in this clear space,
there was you.
In a raw form- without explanations, without excuses, without fear,
without the taste of another on your lips,
without the pressure to exist.
Just you, and your experience floating around and through you,
in the most beautiful colors I've ever seen you don.
It was just you, and it was just me,
in soft solids of insight.
When I stepped forward, I saw your life around you,
not my interpretation riddled with negative and positive energies,
but the sights and sounds that created an indefinite understanding.
With the sunsets swimming around them.
As I got closer I began to notice my own life,
spirits of the past grazing my skin gently
and gingerly.
And when we finally were face to face,
in what might be nano-seconds
our eyes were not expectations but one,
our lips were not provocations but one,
our bodies were not vehicles but one.
And it felt comfortably fluid as we walked together in something I can only liken to acceptance.
It was fleeting, however.
I was pulled out of this by the hands of 3 AM on a Tuesday, my disappearing fever,
and desire to relieve myself from all of the water I consumed before bedtime.
The lingering feeling of insight and acceptance urged me to write,
and expel the overwhelming emotion of wishing I never woke up.
I couldn't stop sobbing
and I hadn't a clue why.
I guess it was because in this dream
I came to know
the world is crumbling around us
and all we can see are the demands and the means to be something other than oneness.
We choose be chained by these requirements,
because living in this world is not the safety of the amniotic sac that we leave behind in the past.
We should know that we could relive that every time we create something we strongly believe doesn't have to last.
I'm not sure who I've lost,
or what I've found-
but I can hope
it's knowing that we may not ever precisely touch what love is despite how much we try to render it through words
and actions,
a definitive language that gives us its tangibility.
But it can touch us.
It can touch us into being one again,
if we put our lives on pause,
It can touch us if we let it.

through the cusp of
predawn heavy dark i woke,
one knee too cold to
feel. stars imperfectly ablaze;
radial fractions between
soft fingersplits in overlying canopy.
at ground level, spinning
slowly, i pried a small hole
out of my cocoon of moss. drew
legs to chest. felt clean air wash
up and over me. this is all that
matters. everything. acres alone,
save trapped stoat or the small
hawk in my ribcage. kea call
up at pearl flat; hours later,
i thaw. i rescind no sentiment.
and i dare not take back a
mote of motion. my
hands mend you sweetness on hazy
days the sun careens through
dust and valleys.
                                endless spurs
on all horizons to clamber to
you, or just to find me. endless
convection to spread wing under.
endless permutations of lovers; but,
of course, nobody else
would near suffice.

down a darkened trail, sleep
heavy on shoulders, i waltz with
torch dying in one hand. beating
heart in other. a fine
day crawls up over
peaks; i sigh, smile,
endlessly think
of you.

Her brown eyes shine like the sun
Her soul reflects in them as I become undone
Weakened by her voice, or at least what it used to represent
Blessed to have had such memories, even with the overlying resentment

In my head our song plays when we eventually meet
How eventually has turned into nothing, as I admit defeat
How this poem is a requiem, as well as an obituary
To the death of our love, the wakeup call of fate
And even as we never even had a first date, meeting up now would be too late
Must our favorite songs be played at its cemetery?

Your hands seem soft, at least your photos say so
Your life seems so lonely, or am I projecting?
I miss back when this felt real, and it wasn't infecting
My heart to lie on the spot, defend you like a true attorney
While you carry on with life, as I become a bitter memory
A reminded of better days, when friendship meant all the world
When I was some guy, and you some girl
When kissing you was over the limit
But snuggling felt second nature

It’s over, to those reading this I've lied, yet barely at that
She was amazing, even worthy of Being a wife
But life interfered, where love could never reach
And lust disrupted where life experience could never cheat

Forgive me, yourself, even forgive life itself
I wish I could hold your hands, and be there in your cries for help
And be the rock, albeit pointless
I wish to be your guide, as you are my reason
I the diary, you the pen
You the rain, I the bucket
I the maestro, you the order less Singer
Never following my instructions and making me jealous of anyone who calls you "theirs”.

I sound like I’m obsessed; I sound like I cling to your image and not yourself.
I am... In denial to my love to what was and could have been
It was special, but it could have been real.

Had we met sooner or later, would you do the same?
Or would life take it course as we find love opens doors?

I'll never get that answer, and I've bit my tongue to respect your ears
To keep away your fears
I'm sorry that your sorry, that you regret
And had things been different, this piece would have a better ending.
Till the universe resets or in the next life... May our feelings rest in peace
Even when mine fight for revival
Let the cemetery rest as you have

The overlying theme of this generation
Is veneration for people practicing subjugation over other nations

Private socials are the new public places
Where they run from other faces
Just to fake feel the safest
While they make racist statements

Acting out like cavemen
But somehow claim a falsified sense of sophistication
Irony resulting from a lack of education
Little white lies to fill the empty black spaces

Over saturated pale faces for replacement
The only history they have lacks origination
Dissatisfied with their own situations
They'd buy your black skin if it was worth their down payment

Hypocritical to a sense literal
Coincidental how the long arm of the law
Tends to bend the rules

And grade the 'colored' on a curve
Being vain, with their emotions hues change
So it's easy to see who has the nerve

Claiming ties to land they've never been from
Accomplishing feats and mastering the weather was one
Makes you wonder how'd the pyramids ever get done
While shedding skin, getting burnt and turning red in the sun

What a creature...

You are what you know
A glimmer in my eyes
Walking among clouds

Your breath breathes health
No nonsense going there
That simple smile draws crowds

Oh! How simplistic they see
For you shine, shine, shine
Like gazing upon a graceful star

Never forget thy majestic grace
Roughness, couth and rhythm
For you are the completeness

Overlying everyone's fortunes
With a simple smile and nod
Not meaning or thinking, just you