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This is a Haiku
I’m not good at poetry
But I’ll try it out
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Don't wake me
I still want to be with my shady tree
I still want to drown in my fantasy
Feeling weightless, feeling free
It's a place I could be me
Don't wake me
Quiet now, the winds are speaking
Listen carefully for nothing is more wise.
It speaks of real love, the kind from within,
Not just of the humanly attractive lies.
You can learn a lot from them,
Remember
ordering Chinese food on those Friday nights in front of the TV
the notes of support you would leave when I wasn't looking
The face of racism
Uses words to kill all that is good on earth, without glancing back at the damage
It has the ability to claim countless lives in mere seconds, then continue on
You can sway me either way,
If it's going places or if we stay
stagnant
In murky waters and unsure touches
I can't stay this way, I need an answer
I'm sorry I can't ask the right
questions,
The rose that is weak and witheredIt falls and sulks and shrinksAfter rain, it drags itself to the sunAnd the rose flourishes vibrantly The rose that returns every yearIt has been through dark, harsh weatherIt survives the many beasts who try to
Soup with only one ingredient,
salad with only lettuce.
Women, gays, blacks,
we can speak only if they let us.
Indivisible under God,
yet my country is rooted by evil.
How’s life? They ask
I say, hey it’s cool
While putting on my mask
Trying to be whole
Stop that, I wish they’ll say
But who am I kiddin’
Nobody gets me every day
in the middle of night
under the light of the moonlight
facing a car light
made me hold myself tight
memories of you
suddenly rush into my mind
the voice of you
BLACK LOVE I watched her... watched her as she slowly undressed.Supple Nubian Queen.My eyes rejoiced at her beauty,as she approached my sexuality. Our lips met. Wet, red hot lips.Our hips met.
2016 was such a difficult yearI started with ache.My relationship wasn't doing well,And there was too much distanceSo we decided to break.
her head was not in the clouds
but she was made of clouds themselves
dreaming of the day she could return to the sky
I miss the intimacy, lookdeep into me, seea void, pitch blackLeft protectedLeft, but not abandoned, keptHoned for beautiful imperfections,an environmental suggestion:“Bring back my fascinationfor creative satisfactions” My onyx vacuum feeds fromf
How does one act white?
Do I have to speak proper English and wear nice clothes? Do I have to get good grades and not cuss all the time?
If that's acting white, then yeah I guess I act white.
There are not enough words in the
languages of this world to tell you how much I Love You.
I look for you in every face on the street
in every second guess
in the way my breath catches
Every
Time
Infants, toddlers, new-borns
*Cutest wittle cheeks I’ve ever seen!*
BABIES.
They were the last two of the sweetest and most ripe apples
From the tree whose roots lay the foundation of mankind
It's hard deciphering secret agendas when I'm busy deconstructing every word you say.
Depicting what you've yet to reveal, does that mean I have the upper hand, or am I simply playing into yours?
Gray is like a thunder stormSmelling like the rainLouder than thunder itselfYet as soft as a pillowAnd salty like the ocean Gray is black and whiteA perfect mixture of bothNot too muchNot too littleJust perfect like the sun Gray is like gravel How
I see white walls
I see grey carpet
I hear silence
I hear my thoughts
I touch rough walls
I touch emptiness
I taste air
I taste light
35 years of age now
Not a day goes by that I wish,
I was still young and had no worries
Of what was to come in the future.
But I can still remember the days
Being born in a black box
The room’s dark and cold
There’s a world outside
You know of a better world
But it’s beyond your reach
You can see it, everyone else
One day, there’s a door
