“losing everything I have”

**inspired by An Honest Man by Fantastic Negrito**

he wakes to the shiver & wanting
the ache that kitchen can’t fix
he is searching
he is hunting
small packets of spare change
turned into white powder

forgot what God tastes like
so he starts with fire water
to calm the quakes & shatter
ends with puncture
to calm his pulsating vessels

“momma why did you leave me
alone here
I can’t remember the verses or the songs”

bodies turned into cadavers
flesh to experiments
this ends the same for all of them
he knows
but this body is isolation
the chemicals & adrenaline
replace the weeping
so he can make his pilgrimage
back to the vile violin stings
strung out
same clothes, more injection sites
nodding off closer to the death
he prayed for
when he prays
he doesn’t pray

God forbid…
that someone hears
the truth in his longing

easy, slowly, goodnight…

“I like you, liking me like you”

if good pussy were good penmanship
i’d pray over the mailbox
that inside would be a handwritten post card from you
if neck kisses were breakfast pancakes and syrup
you would have to get a gym membership
to keep from getting obese & reduce the risk of diabetes
if love is truly the answer
we should go on Jeopardy
get filthy rich and move away together.
because I love you
like fat asses love couches
we belong together
like Spongebob and Patrick
like hot sauce and fried chicken
like Trump supporters and swastikas
you are everything to me
trembling fingers and pulsating
wide open
Netflix and chill spaces
you make it hard
to say what I mean when I mean what I say
because sometimes I say things that I don’t mean
but I mean to tell you everything
you want to know if you know what I mean
take it easy or get it rough
bent and hair pulling
whichever you prefer
whenever you need it
I need you like
octagons need acute angles
you look cute in that dress
with no make up
we should make love
to slow jams between bed sheets
like sheet music you set my key
unlock the door to your heart strings
and I will play with your g chord
make you music
to dance to then lay there beside you
till we both fall asleep…

“brush strokes”

even lines on blank canvas
she works her imagination
into masterpieces
I am enamored
with her even handed
slow motion

painting creation
her fine lines
circles & incongruous right angles
explosions of black girl magic
like a break beat and trumpet
mixed pastels and cheap vodka

we mix colors with cuddling & goodnight kisses

the champagne tastes like sin
but if God meant the sun to hug the sky
then he assuredly intended
that she dance reckless
in her birthday clothes
against my wanting glances

pray to be her next piece
or at least be pigments
on her easel
in my next life

an existential crisis of faith
in everything I know
everything I know questions these efforts
but you never really get the picture
till the artist is finished…

happy feelings

**inspired by Happy Feelings by Frankie Beverly and Maze**

Happy words of giggling “Giving Tree” branches
your first hit in a baseball game
after all that fucking practice
Brand new ironed outfit
first day of school smiles
“Yes” checked boxes on passed notes
Getting her cell phone password
right on the 3rd try and finding
absolutely nothing to be mad about

The first few beers
the last few puffs
and the dreams that still make sense

perfect words
that mean everything you mean to say
saying everything you meant
while there is still time
time is fleeting
life grows shorter every mile
you better find something beautiful
to hold onto if only for a little while…

downloaded.

she kisses me reckless
her hips roaming freely
looking for love
in between spaces
talking unfiltered
she is ill fitting hills & up do’s

“don’t talk to me I ain’t in the mood”

rude and impetuous
the worst part of the soundtrack soap opera
she is star studded post apocalyptic cult meeting
can’t hold still long enough
for grasping her false intentions

No romantic endings
No champagne flutes and thrown rice
we are seasonal special forces
arguing about intentions

“I meant every word”
though she only hears the plane crashes and forest fires
she is about that action
packed with lol’s
to be totally irrelevant
with her irreverence

maybe next time I’ll be more cautious
in my DM’s
even partial responsibility is all my fault…

a freebirds gentility…

fb_img_1457308992562.jpgSunny Chicago
Lake Front Skyline
tea party Princess

Queen
Mother
Poetry

Your sweet tea sugar cheek smiles
lemon drop cake batter thighs
caramel delight coconut hips

open doors for a lady
never sit when she is standing
defined, refined, a grown woman
your polished crown demands respect
told these silly turkeys
to return to their residence
not often allowed in Queen’s Court
best you learn
the bow & curtsey
of polite conversation
before Frances turns Freebird
L Train, 1992 gum popping,
unapologetic checkmate
the Queen roams the board freely
the wrong move will get you cornered

Salute You in your God Body
sure God probably looks like you
looks right through
all the pride & pretension
see our inner most hiding places
among the ship wrecks
& wry smiling faces
this time to the next Timex
turns swiftly into shadows

we have lost more poets
than sea shells
on Lake Front beaches
keep our secrets
tell our stories
when we are at a loss for words

4 words

Frances
Free
Bird
Morgan

Our sister, Our daughter,
his pride, my friend…

there you are

For this blood I can never repay
when the world abandons
when the smiling faces
betray you
when the alternator belt breaks
and the chevy won’t start
when the series is canceled
when the crowd does not approve

there you are

No one will ever love you
like your mother
the undying light of her storm shelter
the repetition of her warnings
heeded or disobeyed
stand testament to her wisdom
“my mother has forgotten more than I will ever know”
life is a perilous endeavor
a running and standing in the starting blocks
waiting on the gun fire
Momma is a stopwatchMother cheering
a coach
a cheerleader
a ever present voice in the crowd
urging you to victory
agonizing at your loss
when victory was impossible
your mother shares your dreams
there you are
Momma,
thank you.

A thousand words couldn’t
erect the castle you deserve
couldn’t paint the sky
beautiful enough to represent your love
you are the forgiving and empathetic God
whispering bedtime stories, kissing boo-boo’s,
making beds, and mending tattered edges
there you are

every Mother
Grandmothers, Godmothers, Aunts, Sisters, Foster Mothers
Play Mommas, and Ms. Mary that stays up the street
you are everything
a solid rock, a anchor, a guide book, a held hand,
a translator, a believer, a friend
you are the only medicine that a child might ever need
thank you for you
always “holding us down”
you are there when the there
is the toughest place in the world to be
there you are…