If I should find space in your memoryonce the seconds have drained from my timeI pray I'm remembered just as I wasI hope I'm not placed too highNot keen on leaving a saintly reputeeven saints have sinned in their heartsDon't think the bad or the good of meJust keep them as fat as they areRemember that I was giving--but don't forget that my temper was hotRemember I looked on the bright side--but don't forget that at times...

I know why the sky rolls on the edge of New OrleansThe blue billows like the waves of PontchartrainAngry waves, fervent ones, rise like dead from turquoise gravesCollapsing clouds with the force of hurricanesEve's approaching; rush, rush rushMust make arrival 'fore night comesThe ceiling's black; no stars, no moonShadows chase the remains of the sunStill in spite of the night I will journey on westTo deliver my daddy's bo...

Mother tried her very best to tote my bones with care And sustain me with bread and good intentions, it was all that she could afford. She worried with each passing minute that my muscles were wasting away That my heart was not beating at its fullest strength That, like the others, I would not stay On nights when papa lay in a 'cross town ditch entertained by moonshine dreams Mother lay in the still on her cold, dirt bed...

His love has been shown With hurried kisses Balled up fists, Illicit cross town visits Forty years of foolishness, stark regret on both sides, bruises and black eyes and futile halfhearted tries It has taken its toll and I am far too old, To wait for things to change. . . The whole damn town has laughed at me from the moment I said “I do!”, I’ve been long considered a fool For taking the shit he puts me through He is the...

I am the stranger in my house This wretched run-down shack This hovel with pests and peeling paint and dirt floors from front to backShards of glass from long broken windows Litter the furniture and floors But I never bother to sweep them up Cause it’s not my house anymoreDried blood stains the ceiling and corners There’s no love or light in this place The cold and dark have befriended me now In the thick is where I feel...

The morning was no different Still very much the same Nothing unusual Not a thing out of place I awoke with the buzzer Which gifted me an hour And trudged down the hallway To my usual morning shower The mirror displayed the very same face And those extra twenty pounds that would not go away The cereal was sweet And the milk was warm Not a thing about the day Seemed out of the norm The trek to work Was boring at best Traff...

You will not pour ice on my mic Just because my lesson burns You’re not allowed to shame me‘cause your mind's too closed to learn I refuse to change my words around Or remove a single phrase‘cause my message is a mirror That reflects your naked face Race, religion, vices, or violence If it colors our existence Then my voice shall not be silent Still, you challenge my words And you work to smear and smother But what salts...

I’ll forever allow you to breathe my airI'd share my very last with youWhen you are away, I'd endeavor to sayThat the breaths that I take are too fewI love lying here with you like thisNo disruptions, no worries, no soundsJust the drum of our heartbeats dancing in unionAnd the thumping of rain dropsAs they softly meet the groundI don’t think I have ever noticed beforeJust how sublime the curve of your lipsSupple and brown...

The sweet aroma from coconut shampoo Permeates the cells in the air I sit silently as she washes the silvery fuzz Which is all that remains of my hair All is quiet except the sound of the water Falling from my skin into itself And my eyes fix on the gauze and dressings That cruelly mock as they sit upon a shelf A garment that used to belong to me Hangs from the knob behind the door It doesn’t know it will never touch me a...

She lay across the naked twin mattress That was haphazardly placed on the floor Propping up her notebook on her bare, bony knees Scribbling random words; trying to make them say moreWords and the wonders she could create with them Had always been her true friends They provided an escape from a lonely existence And gifted her a peace few things didThe soft amber glow from two half-burned candles Were her lone companions an...

There was no mail in the box that dayJust a lonesome little noteIt was opulently dressed in a gold leaf sheatheGold wax stamped the back flap closedBlack calligraphy skillfully addressed The letter in care of my nameThe return address was markedly absentAnd its postmark conspicuously the sameThe lone envelope felt very weightyAs I clutched it tightly in my handAnd although its contents were not yet revealedInstinct hinted...

I wonder if he knows thatI watch him while he sleeps Or that I’ve counted the auburn frecklesThat dot his nose and cheeks Or that I’ve managed to memorize Every single scar and line And that my eyes trace the bend of his brows Burning their arches into my mindSometimes I see his eyelids trembleAnd I wonder if he's feigning sleep Does he lie there on display on purpose Afraid he'll break the spell if he speaks Does he feel...

I think there must be a million birds Outside my window today Urgently squeaking and squalling and calling Like they have something salient to say My brief experiences with these creatures Have always been the same Move within five feet of them And they scuttle and fly away; But not today Noisy rabblerousing by the children next door Should cause the skittish critters alarm Yet they lackadaisically amble under the shade o...

He sits in front of his bedroom window A street light illuminating his face Conniving a dangerous and deadly scheme In the name of preserving his raceHe devotes no thought to right or wrong Morality has no place His only concern is with the task at hand Introspection takes up too much spaceHe looks at the digital clock that sits On the shelf he constructed from crates The glowing red numbers change with the minutes With e...

A faded black and white photograph Captures the gleaming grins of a family Soft light ricochets off their shiny cheeks and teeth A dark stain sits in the snapshot’s left margin It’s a smudge that represents a secret That they’d give their lives to keep But that stain is not a result Of a small child’s careless handling That small murky blot is the face of a young girl One whose very existence was cursed by her father Due...