Poetry

I AM OF TWO SELVES

I am a perfect page holding some words.
Sometimes I am the night on a bright day.
I could be in the sky and fly like birds
On some days, I’m black and white afterwards
then at noon, silence becomes my pathway.
I am a perfect page holding some words

Continue Reading

Poetry

DEAR CHILD

This would have been nicer on your holographic screen
but no,
I didn’t have the luxury to do that,
the best of these words are buried,
dead with me long ago.
I want to tell you how your today came
snooping around the corner,
like a piece of color poured upon the sun that shines your path.
It was never like this,
I mean the world in which you live in,
should be more horrific than what I saw.

Continue Reading

Poetry

THE PICTURE LOVE DOESN’T PAINT

I am no painter
if I was, love would be me,
putting words in brush tips, color and water.
I am no canvass so I am free.
Holding back the pain
that comes with the rain.
I exist in too much rush
sometimes inside the sun’s crush.

Continue Reading

Poetry

THE PRESIDENT’S DEAD RIGHT?

He hasn’t been wrong from the truth that is left
It’s true your age is long and so are we.
My father carved a bed only to sleep outside,
If he was the head, he’d call the quit that died.
Don’t conclude soon, The President’s dead right.

Continue Reading

Poetry

A TIRED HEART

A tired heart is not dead,
It’s eyes are bloodshot from too much alcohol.
It is quick to judge so it has to be fed.
A tired heart won’t love anymore but still answers the call.

Continue Reading

Poetry

MARTHA PAYNE

The rocks do not know your name any longer

like the sound of fleeing feet.

Dear Martha Payne from a year ago

I sought your face in the ray of the future sun,

nothing shone in your eyes like death

piercing the wind that called from afar. Continue Reading