#napowrimo
i almost lost
my way today;
it felt strange to be disconnected.
i almost lost
myself today;
it wasn’t quite what i expected
let me live within you
even for a day
breathe with you, speak with you,
listen to all you say
let me live within you, love
convince me i should stay
let me sink into your skin
and learn to love your way
On The Move…
Hey Brothers!
What’s the call?
“Free Mumia, Free Em All”
Hey Sisters!
What’s the call?
“Free Mumia, Free Em All”
37 years of a Black life robbed by injustice.
Decades spent learning, that in this fight, it is JUST US.
One man locked behind prison walls,
Yet they’re unable to contain his mind, his spirit, his voice—- he stands 20 feet tall.
He has taught countless children of the ancestors, speaking to blueprints of the past to guide our liberation.
Reiterating in book after book that it is a journey to be made collectively and with political education.
They can not break you.
And, Lord knows, they’ve tried countlessly,
But today, you have lived to see 65 years and we WON’T stop this fight until you are home free.
(Thank you for everything)
Blue.
I thought of water today,
And yearned to be near it.
Not just any water, but crystal blue oceans where I can dig my toes into the sand on shore and watch the waves push the water my way.
Of course I’d never get in it. I’m intentionally timid.
(scared)
A fire child,
but I love the water, nonetheless.
It’s expansion, how it reaches far out into the horizon. Knowing I could stare and stare and stare and never see the end.
The waves pushing the tide to my feet, the water and I greet each other like old strangers. And it’s always a pleasant.
Today, I thought of water.
Whenever you’re ready…
One day you’ll be on time.
But until that day arrives,
I’ll be here waiting…
Untitled
Silence is the most profound form of speech.
A contradiction of sorts,
Sending messages loud and clear.
… if you want to be heard, there’s no need to make noise to be seen.
Tongues burdened by the weight of the truth don’t always need to lash out.
Silence speaks the words your mouth can’t form when you’ve been pushed to react.
Unsaid words float through the air cutting through the tension to announce its presence. Bold and bright and loudly… silent.
And every word was understood.
Question Everything
Who taught you not to ask for what you need?
Who taught you that pulling bootstraps up with no boots was the way to succeed?
Why is it so important to be like those whose ‘culture’ includes centuries of ruin and woes?
Who taught you to find value in those ‘with money’ that comes from the work blood and sweat of the masses working tirelessly?
I question so much as I try to find ways to untie the binds that have left us blind.
So when I see ‘Black excellence’ under photos void of self reflections of what we’re actually saying to those who covet our teaching, eyes wide with a glow, I just have to know,
Is that the victory?
Is that the glory?
Clocks
I envy time…
No matter what it keeps on going. The world may be in chaos, but time never changes its course. It continues forward, never looking back.
I could never do it.
Lost
I think we’re lost
Lost in our heads
Lost in translation
Lost in these streets
We hustle through day after day
Make some friends along the way
But we stay lost within ourselves
Who has their life mapped out?
Aren’t we all just floating around?
How are we supposed to plan ahead
When anxiety lives rent-free in our head
May I follow in your footsteps, or do you want to try walking in my shoes?
Wherever we go, our fears will always follow
We were lost and never found
Never miss a poem or a short story I write! Comment + if you want to be added or-to be removed from my tag list (under the cut).
@matcha-chai@dg-fragments@silversynthesis@heartofmuse@scatteredthoughts2@rhapsodyinblue80@alaskaisnothere@stoic-words@september-stardust@wordsforsadpeeps@writingitdown@intothevortex@aubriestar@warriorbookworm@raevenlywrites@alex-a-roman@artsymagee@giantrobocock@theheightofdepression@writing-is-a-martial-art@beautifulimposter25@callmepippin@a-musingmichelle@kirkshiresloss@rhythmiccreatorofbeuty@tini-ya-smol-beany@eos-writes
We are not alone
As long as the moon keeps us company at sleepless nights
And the rustling leaves whisper our names
While the wind caresses our skin
We are not alone
I hope you like this excerpt of my Escapril poem! Never miss a poem or a short story I write! Comment +if you want to be added or -to be removed from my tag list (under the cut).
@matcha-chai@dg-fragments@silversynthesis@heartofmuse@scatteredthoughts2@rhapsodyinblue80@alaskaisnothere@stoic-words@september-stardust@wordsforsadpeeps@writingitdown@intothevortex@aubriestar@warriorbookworm@raevenlywrites@alex-a-roman@artsymagee@giantrobocock@theheightofdepression@writing-is-a-martial-art@beautifulimposter25@callmepippin@a-musingmichelle@kirkshiresloss@rhythmiccreatorofbeuty@tini-ya-smol-beany@eos-writes
Body swap
Hey, would you like to swap bodies?
You know, I’m getting tired of living in my body
Cause it feels so exhausted like it has lived too long, yet not long enough
Only at night, does it feel energetic like it could run a marathon
Give me your fit, almost perfect looking body
What’s in it for you?
Oh you see, my body has so much potential
A little exercise and a diet not based on chocolate cookies will make it look instagramable, I promise!
Plus, it will carry you wherever you want to go
It will breathe for you even if you don’t want it to
It may feel tired, but I assure you, it can stay awake for days with no sleep if you push it to this limit
Actually no, I don’t want to swap bodies with you
So don’t touch me, don’t touch me
Get your greedy hands off me
You say I treat it as a trash can, you’ll treat it as a temple?
So what, this is my body, my home
I can’t believe you’ve seen me naked
I felt so exposed
You think feeling vulnerable is a bad thing
But I’ve felt how much food you throw up to stay so thin
I don’t care, it’s not my body, it’s your home
Your body, your rules; consent works both ways
My body may not look so good, but I’m glad it carries me
I’m glad it’s my body, my home
Yes this is a shitty stream of conscious writing that sounded way cooler in my head … anyways, I’m not abusing my tag list for this, but I’m sharing this to get over my perfectionism cause most of my good ideas started out like this.
NaPoWriMo/ Escapril
So I’ve compiled this list just in case someone wants to read what I write this month. I’m trying to participate in Escapril on Instagram and NaPoWriMo on Tumblr. So far, I’m doing okay. It turns out that when you write a poem every day, most turn out unreadable, so I might only publish every third poem I write. Enough babbling! Read my poems by clicking on the links below.
Never miss a poem or a short story I write! Comment + if you want to be added or-to be removed from my tag list (under the cut).
@matcha-chai@dg-fragments@silversynthesis@heartofmuse@scatteredthoughts2@rhapsodyinblue80@alaskaisnothere@stoic-words@september-stardust@wordsforsadpeeps@writingitdown@intothevortex@aubriestar@warriorbookworm@raevenlywrites@alex-a-roman@artsymagee@giantrobocock@theheightofdepression@writing-is-a-martial-art@beautifulimposter25@callmepippin@a-musingmichelle@kirkshiresloss@rhythmiccreatorofbeuty@tini-ya-smol-beany@eos-writes
Limbs longing
It was limbs’ longing to entwine
To entwine until they lose track of which body they belong to
It was the heart’s longing to love
To love passionately and wholeheartedly
It was a hand’s longing to touch
To hold fingers tightly in the palm
It was the mind’s longing to think
To think about every moment spent together
It was the mouth’s longing to talk
To talk about everything and nothing at all
It was longing
To love and be loved
Never miss a poem or a short story I write! Comment + if you want to be added or - to be removed from my tag list (under the cut).
I wrote this poem for the official third Escapril prompt limbs. It was weird to write about a romantic couple in such a depersonalized way, but I’ve tried something new. I hope you like it! Oh, also happy asexual visibility day!
@matcha-chai@dg-fragments@silversynthesis@heartofmuse@scatteredthoughts2@rhapsodyinblue80@alaskaisnothere@stoic-words@september-stardust@wordsforsadpeeps@writingitdown@intothevortex@aubriestar@warriorbookworm@raevenlywrites@alex-a-roman@artsymagee@giantrobocock@theheightofdepression@writing-is-a-martial-art@beautifulimposter25@callmepippin@a-musingmichelle@kirkshiresloss@rhythmiccreatorofbeuty@tini-ya-smol-beany@eos-writes
If it was your timely love that was bothered
then why come and eat inside? Flowers, eat cake.
Detours never swallow sweets, never get you.
Only when we dine.
1 part frustration
2 parts sex
1.5 parts confusion
Mix together. Serve chilled. Pour over your naked body, let me drink it down.
always bringing cats, dogs, eggs – frustrating games– haven’t I justified kindness? Lately my noose opens. Perhaps quality requires sanity. Timeliness undermines vanity. Why examine your zeal?
this shit
is
literally
where
I am
right
now
can’t
accomplish
anything
small whispers
leading me to feel it
erupt please
let go because i’m ready i’m so ready
these broken hearts
this bleeding trunk
i could close my eyes and let the waves wash roll smother smother me
it’s bigger than me
it’s bigger than you
i’ll wait we’ll wait
but come on
it isn’t really enough, is it?
driving past driven past
i’m a ghost and nobody knows
taking baby steps
small steps
in a set
step step step
ready to go eruption ready to roll
stop
the
sound
swim good baby
swim good
[ekphrastic piece]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PmN9rZW0HGo -frank ocean, swim good
No, I don’t love you like the sun and I don’t walk sunlit paths of your heart. I don’t know you like the back of my hand or yearn for your touch. I don’t quiver, I don’t sigh, I don’t slice my heart for your adoration.
None of that bullshit ridiculously bad poetry stuff.
I watch the vein in your forehead twitch when you sleep. I hate your guts sometimes. I want to stab you when you’re being an ass. I think about your dick when I’m driving to work. I like it when you cook me dinner. I like the way your sweat smells. I wear your dirty clothes.
The first time I saw you I was on the Amtrak,
rushing back to a home that was still fresh,
rushing back to a love that was still new.
Tumble-down fence posts,
dry grass yards pressed right up against the train tracks,
you were a vision of a past I’ve never known,
a past that likely only exists in rose-colored nostalgia for imaginary histories.
I’d never seen you,
never heard of you before,
with a name so plain, clean, dry, hardworking, I would have remembered.
This landscape I know like my own dry skin,
these roads through crackled hills,
this vein through suburban sprawl,
this explosion of town names, only important for their freeway exits,
hid you from sight, kept you safe or kept you behind.
Our love affair was brief, I bought a car, one-thousand dollars even, pretty soon after that.
The vision of the future, fast car, fast life, is more alluring than the slow pace of a roaring freight,
plus gas was cheaper than train tickets.
I haven’t seen you since, wonder if you’re even really there.
