Tag Archives: poet

FROM

Image result for journey

Snap chat masking me

What is Masculinity?

His story is mine.

Wheels of the divine?

Magnolia tears screeching

Preaching can’t reach in

Chat rooms and emails

Soul ties and habits

Are they devils or detail?

Masculinity

On the ropes and off the rails

All is vanity

All I’ve got is me

Hands low chin tucked backing up.

Trying to give a

Swing for upper crust

Walk on to the uppercut

Dying to give a

Mourning a mauling

Stabbing at stepping forward

Falling without love.

Ballads and parables

Man of cool to manacles

Just a wailing wall

 

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Shaking the block

Writers block writing stop
Fighting what fires flocks
Painting luscious lions, locks
Ignited align with minds that won’t malign your crops.
You won’t see diamonds stop.
Shining when clouds climb on top.
The rush of the ride will drop.
Sometimes you’ve got to be a minotaur to get behind the door.
Frames change games, meanings names.
Blame remains that same iceberg lettuce.
This ain’t your average Tetris.
We shift gears because our vehicle lets us.
Watch your steps sun, don’t be caught in plain tiffs and vain rifts.
Your gift deserves more than memes and gifs.
I chop it up through writers block to give a soul a lift

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2/30 – Penny on the pavement

Too busy sipping tea to smell the roses.
Pockets full of pansies, posers
Too busy seeing red to be a Moses.
Ignoring the driftwood while singing Oceans.
Too busy, too focused to be open.
Neglect a catalyst of foreclosure.
Drowning, Emotion, Head up, No One. Head shot, Implosion,
Rest in peace? We don’t know that.

Nice memories, for sure, yeah.
Too busy being me to notice
That’s what it’ll be til it’s over, til it’s over
It is far from over….

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Haiku: Miss Direction

Clouds navigating

Sound of speed grating

I am neutral, in traffic

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5 day Poetry Challenge Day 4 – Making It

This particular poem was written circa October 2004. Having discovered and fully embraced spoken word in 2003, it is one of my earliest spoken word pieces.

Realistic is talent to deal with harshness

Faith when you’re stuck in a camp like Auschwitz

You’re proud when it’s over but then you get a blessing

For you held on to grainy faith

Though you were at your wits end.

You may want to help the world…may never happen

Only way to live your life is like a lantern

Lighting others pathway

Just keep your head high don’t ever be trampled

And be a classic song…not a beat sample

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5 day poetry challenge Day 3 – The Dawn

White sands fell between them

The morning tide kissed their foreheads

New palms bowed and curtsey in turn

Clouds yawned for the first time as the sky opened its eyes

The wind smiled like a new-born after its first feed

Time had walked the shortest distance from their wrist to their hands

Steady as the drizzle of summer rain, they breathed

Whispers tiptoed from their lips into the oxygen

Like hydrogen they ignited as understanding embraced

Good Morning,

Good morning to love said the flame

Finding their soul frequency retinas roared

Detonated heart beats battling soon soothed to an echo

Atlas had become compass in a blink

Yet this was Eden and it would be human to think

So they admired

The apple of their eye was a fruit of their spirit

They’d given lives to acquire the rights to the orchard

Merely breathing was deemed eating of the moment and

Building a city of roses required appetite so apple blossom became staple diet

Welcome,

Welcome to life said the Middle Tree

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Crystal

Is your past a foreign country?

If so how often do you visit?

Is it for business or for pleasure                ?

Is it secluded or touristic?

Do you have a holiday home or no go areas within it?

Does it have monumental cities?

Are your memories memorials or are they living exhibits?

If I’d like to go there…what’s the cost of ticket?

Could I go for moment?

Would I be ready in a minute?

Is it a place of worship, do others go there on pilgrimage?

As a travel destination what star rating would you give it?

If your past was a pack of cards, would you be willing to deal it?

Is it a feted piece of literature that limits your life’s vocabulary.

Is it a path that panders to extinction?

Do you marry your past to your present in tensions?

Is your past the blessing you were cursed with?

Is it the margin of error that makes you live second to second?

Is your past a day of lessons that you’re simply letting slide

Is your past a persistent researcher that you’re simply walking by?

Is your past the death of you or what makes you feel alive

Is your past a foreign country?

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