Wake up at the back of the limousine
Blood on my hand and a bow on my back
My hand of blood and thorns of roses pulls out this bow of cupid
I’m bleeding
Lots and lots of blood
But I’m not dying
Something is stopping me from dying
This white texture of the limousine filled with gray mechanical clogs with the shaping of a city
like circus
A true dream world
But I want to leave
This is a dream
But it’s not my dream
“Here in my car, I feel safest of all” – Gary Neuman – “Cars”
One more month,
I can fix it
Push it till next week
Ameture hour
I don’t have time today
Summertime
Trying to work on a car that is slightly older than you can look like a hill,
but achieving the main goal to drive it, will be a sweet reward.
It’s going to take a lot of work, with time and patience this masterpiece will be a great accomplishment.
Knowing that you put your time and effort into a goal bigger than yourself will have a big payoff.
Continue reading ““My Truck” by Kelly Woods”
To me this is nothing new
Another black man killed on the news
I try to stay positive but still sing the blues
How can I stay lifted when they keep tearing me down?
How can I let my voice be heard without making a sound?
I wonder if I’m next or if I’m just another number
Because I sit here thinking about all the black live lost this summer
I’m only seventeen just trying to survive
I want to be like my idols, you know the ones still alive
The ones who had wives, families, jobs, ambitions
Why do I feel like no one is listening?
I just want to live my life and have fun
And not think that every officer thinks I have a gun
But how can I be fed up and tired
When all the other kids want more to be desired
You know what I’ll be the change, the positive motion
And embrace my color, my hair, and cocoa butter lotion
Because for me it was when I was eleven
Still in middle school just tryna’ get even
Then I heard a name on the tv that night
Another boy, the same age as me, his name was Tamir Rice
I was confused at the time not really understanding, you see
That a kid could get shot who looked just like me
Don’t worry y’all, don’t sweat it, we’ll get there
Because we stand for equality it’s only fair
So, when you say that this poem is for us
The world needs more love, more acceptance, and more trust
Photo credit: RandyRooi@pixabay.com
What is a king without his queen?
She is the epitome of my being
Beauty skin deep
She will knock you off your feet
Continue reading “My Black Queens by Jazmin Wilson”
I LOVE YOU
YOU’LL NEVER HEAR ME SAY
“I SEE YOU’RE NOT THE ONE FOR ME”
WHEN THOSE LIGHTS COME ON BRIGHT,
LOOKING STRAIGHT AT ME
THE ONE WHO WILL ALWAYS HAVE YOUR BACK,
THROUGH ETERNITY
BETTER THAN TO THINK YOU ARE GOING;
TO BE ALONE
IT’S OKAY TO BELIEVE IN SOMETHING,
LOVE IS IN THE AIR EVEN ON THE PHONE
I have no trust in others
You will never hear me say
I trust you all the way
You are worthy of respect
But people teach me that
I should keep to myself
I know better
I can trust you
Something tells me
This is what I learned
I am not a victim
You can not convince me
I blamed myself
A child i was no longer
I will not cry
I won’t shed a tear
All i could do was is stand in fear
When i saw myself i had to ask
What is a victim.
“He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his
heels a stone.” (IV.V.XXX)
The warm whisper of a melody winds through the air, escaping like the last embers of
an abandoned fire
From the chilled lips of crippled innocence flows the omen of foretold sleep
Up she goes, wracked with the weight of a sort of neglected recklessness, heavy
To braid-to weave-to intertwine; to speak through those which so romantically offer life
and beseech upon death
Go silently; succumb to the suffocation of the mouth and the suppression of the mind
The ferality of consciousness, the human abyss, danker than the lure of the murky
Pegasus 