Lord prepared a feast
And guests are many.
Where the sun sleeps
the rain and the wind.

Terrible lions guarded
Like stars the morning
Impossible as unreal
What it is worth to be.

The many were invited
My heart well pleased
dears you are the gifts
That do not bother with.

Just a bless havin near
Like the book of pages
For the tale to find to be
Writen done set a peace.

Lord prepared a feast
And the tables are rich
And the time is a still
And place out of reach.

If chance youve wasted
Theres another seven be
If way was seventh did
Another seven and seventy.

Not a sinner nor is a sin
To starve when hungry
brothers responsibility
What his brother to feed.

God doesn’t cause good or bad to happen
God allows good and bad to happen
God allows his creations to cause good or bad to happen
As it serves his purpose to teach us right from wrong
For such is the will of God

I feel the distance,
a growing expanse
between where we stand,
and where we used to be.
A little piece of you
slips away each day,
and with it, a part of me.

My words, meant as bridges,
sometimes fall short,
missing the mark,
lost in the vastness.
I try to weave tapestries
of love, comfort, and desire,
but they seem to unravel
before they reach you.

This isn't the final chapter,
but the erosion is real.
It gnaws at the edges
of my being,
a constant reminder
of the space between us.
In the quiet of the night,
the cold and the loneliness
become a heavy blanket.

I search for the light,
the warmth that once flowed freely,
but a cloak of despair
seems to thicken,
obscuring everything.
My voice, it seems,
doesn't carry far enough,
or perhaps it's the wrong melody,
a dissonance
that may have caused hurt.

I tell you that you are seen,
valued, exquisite, complex.
I whisper of my love,
but the voices of anxiety
in your world
seem to drown me out.
I fear my words
are lost in the noise,
unheard, unheeded.

I long for you to see me,
as I see you.
To feel me,
as I feel you.
To bridge this chasm
that stretches between us.
Tell me the truth,
even if it's the hardest truth.
I need to know,
so I can find my way back,
or find my way forward,
without losing myself
completely.

they break
what they can't buy
where i own it
the land
the deed
the deeds
the first meeting
a hand, gently, cupping her hip
i remember her
in ways she doesn't
in ways impossible
the flutter of her eyelashes
taken aback, then
softly
as a feather fall
drooping of her eyelids
curving of her lips
every moment from then
till mine, slipping off
her emerald slippers
as she groped her chest
soft panting
anticipating
no breath was there for fear
only for joy, and weeping for pleasure
but i was not there
i was already here
in mourning
for who could cherish a night so sweet
forever
surely i,
i tell you,
for i am ever there
in the midst of every meeting, i am absent
stolen away
by love's first embrace
in the coffin
in the death of life, to love, i slumber
for the sun of onus
debt to what tills the earth
i till it not
for i shall never be he who makes her
wait
till
later
i till the day, au revoir
to distant lands, yonder, seek my morrow
seek my yesterday
but today, i'm with her,
as if with child
as if burdened by an impossible future
by myriad questions,
chemistry, timetables, passports, important dates
we are alchemists
she and i,
abed
amidst the dread of toil and bore,
we are parched of pleasure
we seek it,
it is
no one else's
but ours
we mine it
between fear and flight
we fight time and being
we fight ourselves
we fight the womb, what is without that which is opportune,
the midst of our seeking
farming her waistlands
for diamonds, for oasis, for meadows, for flowers unbloomed,
i sought her mind for love
attempted
she denied me
pressed her thumb to my lips
said every word i never dared dream
a woman say
and still
ever more she spoke
and i was entranced
enraptured
askance at how
my mind
my bark encrusted body
came alive
with her grace, healing the rigor mortis
of ages past
suppleness of time, unwound in length
now newly wound in electrifying sight
awoke me
alighting the sinews of my brain
with wisdom, truth, and recognition of the life before me
truly alive, and wanting of me, from marrow to end,
and all at once
by ken i learned, how
barren
the world was
without her
despite her, even,
as, i thought, surely i had known charm, before her...
surely, i had known truth, and victory, and love, before...
nay,
i knew,
naught was i in keeping of any bauble the world trifles
in one's company,
with prices aplenty,
all to conjure the mystery, majesty, misery, and deceit of value,
only
should one glean the truth,
to sup of the waters
of love and its dew
to be there
at the hip
and taste of the river
from forefathers and ancient mothers,
from maidens and warlords
from kings and queens,
they all passed down their sweat of brow
they blood of sword and season's flow
to have us know
all for us
this was done
and you all
waste it
tirelessly
merely
talking about love

while,
i
dream it
eat of it
live it
enjoy it...

why not you?

I don't want to be down, but my heart is too heavy for my eyes to look up

I don't want to be found, not by others but, I'm hoping I can find myself
and
I don't want to be loud, because the ones that are, they don't often look like us

I don't want to be me, as a child being seen not heard, as a black not seen at all
and
As a man that bleeds, with scars that cry, and scabs that call for help that's not coming

I want to be proud, but of me I can't, I don't know what to be proud of
and
I want to be free, and I have the key to these chains, but these burdens start to feel like hugs

I hope you're praying for me, I hope you're praying for me, lately it doesn't feel like enough

I hope you're praying for me, I hold my hands in the dark, my feeble heart is searching for (what?), can you keep praying for me ?

I pray you're telling the truth, lately it doesn't feel like enough,

I hope you're praying for me

I hold my hands in the dark, my feeble heart is searching for love

Nobody's praying.

With hand sculpted verity,
I’ve fixed the flimsiest frame,
Suiting for my narrow view.

Contoured to my convenience,
Auto shaded by defense,
I’ve shaped lies– it’s nothing new.

Contained by intense borders,
My framed lies appear separate,
However, this is untrue.

With self-awareness clouded,
The frame shields me from myself,
But is it not fair to you?