My life is a mosaic. Spray painted on barns scratched into chairs and etched into Aspen tree’s It is painted in the back drop of Midwest cities and contrasted by Rocky Mountains like polished ivory on a crisp December day   It’s viewable only from space.   On earth I’m only a fuzzy outline of … Continue reading Old Poem: My life is a mosiac

Fear can hold you prisoner And Hope can set you free So pray for me As I runway Following whispers on the wind sweet syllables in my mind: Runway son runaway  Somewhere, there is a space for me; a place for me, to die. Death coming gently, singing softly to my soul: Runaway son runaway  … Continue reading Death Coming Gently

   I. "Love affair with a counter-culture facade"     I’ve felt the world die And I’ve seen the world resurrected Reborn and rehashed dumb, vibrant and laughing Unaware of its insecurity And insecure of its awareness   I’ve felt angel-headed hipsters Breathe fire into my words And felt betrayed As their children stalked Harlem … Continue reading Shouting to a Blue Eyed Harlem Sky (hopefully the first poem out of three) comments?

What I need is A word.   Something profound to start off with One syllable that hangs in the air. The first note of a battle score The initial down beat before the inevitable crescendo. There’s something tangible in it’s formation in your mouth, a physically reality in its reflective solitude. Lone, like the man … Continue reading The Power of Utterance

Sometimes, he sits alone. He sits like stone, unmoving. His static motion masked the commotion in his mind and lay hidden was the turmoil of his soul. Inside he was chaos— falling through the liquid reflection of himself; drowning in an ocean of an identity crisis —as fluid memories of a self-doubting existence whitewashed the … Continue reading The Dross of Self

The air is music The breeze is a symphony So play for me a soft autumn That late September music   Play for me those brass leaves and red ivy pianos keys Play for me Chicago Jazz On a south side street corner   Perform for me that nighttime blues The lonely street lamp melody … Continue reading Images of Autumn

I’m falling- I’m falling up the stairs, To attic of my mind, Free falling to heights I could never hope to climb,   I’m falling up I don’t know how I have no control And the ground is growing further- Further Away Away from reality Beyond neutrality I’m fighting for sanity Expression is banded from … Continue reading Poem I wrote in 11th grade

I come from the colored section, Negro portion, red beans, rice, an colla greens.   I come from UC schools, L.A High , Brooklyn Pools, and Meager means. Runaways: ‘wading in the water’ in Alabama backwoods. and gospel benedictions in Tennessee Baptist Churches.   I come from communal towns from the Dakotas down by way … Continue reading Where I’m from

  Honestly, That I want to love you.   I want to spend hours wrapped up In the way your individual thoughts unravel; intricate, sublime, unique. In the way you move, the curve of your cheek And falling deeper into the indigo ocean that holds my gaze.   I want to run through the gently … Continue reading What I was thinking

A man comes undone Spoken word poem Fake: The absence of substance -The abyss- I’m a Wasteland of An American Tragedy Run amiss. Societies questioning me While I’m pleading the fifth. Grasping the truth in the mist.     I‘m running from life Like it stabbed me in the lungs wit a knife. Gasping bloody … Continue reading A man comes undone