Poem: Long Ago


Long ago

two strangers met

and their fate was sealed

 

A child’s life

had been hurt

but a woman helped it heal

 

She took her hand

and brought her home

to help her learn to feel

 

Some days were hard

and both felt pain

life could feel surreal

 

But the woman

always was there for her

through every life ordeal

 

So even though

not by birth

as my Mother you are real

 

Dedicated to my dear Mom on her 91st birthday. You are my heart and soul. Thank you for the day you found me, brought me home and have helped me on my journey ever since!

Advertisements

Poem: Shooting Star


Star shoot beautiful night

Brilliant sky hearts flight

Across the world

Dreams are curled

In lovers beds

With separate dreads

But with the arc

Of light embark

Connect their souls

And fills deep holes

So no matter where

The dark may stare

Magic comes and opens doors

Makes things fly and soar

And when the end is near

I will want you here

To see the star

So far

So far

Poem: Walking In Dawn


Dark walking

with chilled breath

blowing ghostly visitation

while chilled bones

slowly warm

Shadow halos

stretch quiet in the glow

slapping footfalls

counting distances unknown

Sleeping houses

passing by

may be saving shelter

should fears come alive

And sun starts to rise

grasping at sliver moon

dangling in the gray sky

tendrils of yellow reaching up

making moon vanish

Now lone mockingbird

is joined by a chorus

Dawn has been

walked awake

 

 

 

 

Poem: Chains


Years a slave

finally walking free

mud-caked down dirty shoes

dragging home

Will the soul ever sing on key

after bent down beat work

freedom is loaded

heavy with ropes

pulling on out

but ever tying

things tight low hopes


Forty years in Penitentiary

then hitting the street

smelling the air of

humanity

Bars and walls now left behind

the etching of punish

carved carefully through time

The binding gavels

final thud to close

the pathways forward


And words and words

to wound and cut

much bloodier than what

a gun can shoot

Inside the body disappears

until  it seems to be

just hollow fears

Fly away or gather others

yet sounds still linger close

will any time

seem anew

and recapture the ghost


Slave, prisoner and abused

can liberate some day

and wanna walk hard away

from hellish past

with head up and

chains left in a rusting mass

 

Poem: 1956


Forbidden love

is tossed back

into the arms of the hand

the throw of the gamble

that most fear to play

Yet

under cover

‘neath the sweaty dark

of the hidden night

in the pulsing fury

of times angry divide

A union

of color

entangled together

through tension and tender

White wanting in concealed desire

wrapped in Black brave

Heart marches

toward an outlawed end

Bound

Round

Babe

Racial

Bye

Given gone away

to spare the agony

of blasphemous belonging

Two

split to wander separate worlds

One

drowning in the blood

of both

Poem: Shot & Other Sadness Thoughts


They are gone

yet we tread on

dead-eyed zombies

feasting upon what they left behind

Their flickering ghosts

flash upon screens

and disappearing voices

echo to screams

yet we watch

holding

their dying dreams

***

I was handed my sadness like a suitcase when they pushed me out the door so long ago. It has been with me since then; something I hold near me as a reminder of the pain. But it is also a gift. A beacon to see pain in all other things. I carry that with me too. So this is why I will never truly feel at peace–not fully. Only tiny bits, at moments here and there. Because what I am meant to carry is a story of sorrow. And this sorrow gathers sadness and pain within it and to hide in the crevices, unreachable, forever.

 

Poem/Song: Moonbeam Bed


cemetary 6

Lie lie my darling

across the moon beam bed

while you toss among the nightmares

and the monsters in your head

 

In daylight hours the dreams

are hidden far away

We walk together tangled

the light will show the way

 

Lie lie my darling

across the moon beam bed

while you toss among the nightmares

and the monsters in your head

 

But as the dark veil grabs you

and fear pulls you down

I feel I cannot reach you

while you’re lost to midnight sounds

 

So lie lie my darling

across the moon beam bed

And fight your tortured dream world

kill the monsters in your head

 

Yes lie lie my darling

across the moon beam bed

For I will always be here

Singing away the dread

 

For I will always be here

Singing away the dread

20150212_063306

Poem: Surrender 


I surrender 

lay down among the fallen

my own weak and weary comrades 

Those who have marched

with me all along 

The fiercely fighting soldiers 

taking battles to the blood 

I look down on the hillside 

upon the fallen foe

and see such devastation 

discarded  in my moving through 

wondering what I did

It may just be sweeter

to lay it all down 

surrender to the flowing wind

that blows along the hard edged ridges

surrounding my peaceful 

mind

My Poetry


wpid-20150203_184434.jpg

I’d like to take this time to invite all my readers and followers to feel free to ask me questions or simply wonder about my poems. I’ve had some folks be confused about them or describe themselves as people who don’t generally understand poetry. I suppose I have trouble with most poetry myself.

As I’ve gotten more into writing it, I know it can be quite obscure to others and maybe only makes sense to the poet. But maybe that’s the point. That we all interpret it differently. I’ve decided that’s the beauty of poetry. It’s more like a painting than say an essay which may try to make a particular point more emphatically.

With my poetry, I may get a picture or idea in my head. And many times it may be something that only I may understand to be a truth. Still, the words may resonate because they may create a picture in one’s mind or instill a feeling anyway. This is why I would hope you all will comment anyway without fear that you aren’t ‘getting’ the (my) gist of the poem. It doesn’t matter.

I’m only a novice. It is the joy of the words and the feeling when they make their way into my head like visitor getting off the train at the right station. Sometimes they just keep riding that train and refuse to step on the platform. But on the days they are happy to jump down and into my waiting arms–these are the days I feel rich.

So, remember: don’t worry about asking me who this visitor may be and what they are saying. I understand it may be a language you don’t understand. I will do my best to explain if you want. Or you can tell me what you heard this stranger saying to you…

wpid-20150116_075952.jpg