surrendering shadows

At night she is loyal
arrives
dressed in light, a Goddess

My mistress
we share my passions
she knows my secrets
keeps them
hidden in a locket she wears
when the phases suit her

not her only suitor
but her jealous glances
keep me awake
staring into her eyes
At times her punctuality, ethic, and steely gaze
made lesser men call her masculine
told their children blatant lies
the cow barely made it over the farmer’s barn
the fork & spoon had a huge wedding
the little dog attended didn’t so much as giggle

She tells me I am beautiful
I am too scared to call her a liar
she warned my ancestors
when they would listen
I listen to the push and pull of her gravity
ask her question
only expecting answers

an ancient Witch dressed in only
a bright rainbow of luminescence
makes advances
the liberty of a partner ship
separated by a thin skyline
yet sharing the firmaments canvas
should have seen them
holding each other
fireworks, a diamond ring among the clouds,
the cooler winds in darker spaces
where Mother Earth shivers
while the shoreline arrives to bare witness.

Advertisements

A Social Media Sermon

in a humble attempt
to convert no one
I wish to make a confession
to the God of no fair warnings
and preemptive first strikes
I gave up on avoiding disaster
love violence, loose women
and giving up
nothing makes me more happy
than dynamite & ending friendships

immature & petty
a badge of honor
“I wish a mother fucker would”
“who do you think you talking to”
and another thousand bullshit sayings
worn like crowns of kings & queens
without a kingdom and even more to lose
who think it is fashion to curse
what they ought forgive
and spit on graves
slap ice cream out of children’s hands
and act like Trump in their personal life
while condemning him
for being everything they are

silly mortals
loose batteries in pacemakers
waiting to die just the way they
came into this world
immature & crying about nothing.

“Lobby of Trump Tower”

Got contempt for the Devil
hope the house nigga choke & die on his good living
Our ancestors paid for this screaming & hung at the neck
you ought swim home
back to the shores you were stole from
Ought toil under the sky weary unable to rest
you ought run for your life & freedom
get caught
face the gun butt & bull whip

The trees & sky remember
Won’t let you forget

Who do you serve slave?lobby-of-trump-tower

Make a man out of spit and so much sand
put him in the field
take his children from him
give him your God but take his soul

You fool
You coward
how easily you forget
your enemy

A snake is a snake
is the rattle & fangs
he will bite you at the neck & kill you
all the talking in the world won’t change that

Better to keep your distance

Yahweh forgive you
for the camphor and nitrocellulose minstrel show
the photo shop will report on you long after
Your trembling back has stopped crying mercy…

“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
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…

11/2/2016 waiting for it all to be OVER

the guns run the streets now
like they always did
the devil wears True Religion
the exits smell like preconceived notions
He said, “Fuck voting, they don’t count us”
though I tried to convince him differently
he sees through my uncertainty.
Hopes for Change are illusions
to keep the martinets dancing
want to cut my strings
run for the horizon
but they have church on Wednesday
trying to find a heaven I can’t see
while suffering the burns,
cuffs, and shame of delusions
if you catch me crying
at the polling place
ignore my emotions
wait your turn and cast your ballot
we will worry about the math
after the dance
but if you aren’t in the building
during the raffle you can’t get the prize.

to the girl “nodding out” in front of Poets Monday

a nebula of star dust.
the glitter of broken glass & cigarette butts
she is a swaying pendulum
each oscillation a genuflect
to a white horse drawing a train wreck closer.
back and forth
from car windows to inconspicuous gangways
the needle leaves a scar
a port-a-pottie confessional
a intersession prayer to St. Jude
the shit and blood pisses off the angels.
the pricks and plunger
shards of Challenger windshield glass
she exposes her circulatory system to disaster
wreaks of victim and crime scene.

the steps leading to the side bar
her dingy brunette locs
open purse & vulgar pursuits.

at the gates of hell fire
she is an exorcism waiting to happen
either by casket or behavior modification.
her story full of endings
at the beginning of life
chasing the dragon & hunting for more sky
you can’t climb higher
only closer to your catastrophe
simpleton, runaway, fool.
you can’t hide inside yourself
everywhere you look
you are already there.

be cautious
this close to the concrete forest
the sharks smell blood
before it dries on the needle tip
are waiting for skyward eyes
for they never see the weapon
till the wound is wide open,
honor is obliterated,
and the last few singles
have been excavated from the remains.

“black wishes matter…”

passed a wishing well
considered diving in
filling my pockets with water & wishes

was thirsty, hung over,
in desperate need of sustenance
just a smidgen of glistening magic

the twinkle of the nickels & dimes
sparkled among the evidence of lesser wishes
even in wishing wells
the brown ones get less attention

decided against jumping in the water
too many eyes
besides
the drenching wet negro isn’t hard to catch
on a fall afternoon
being inconspicuous is important
when doing the devils work
unless you work for the state…