Best Passages Poems

your labored breathing
called out to me
and in my soul I knew
what needed to be done

I reached for the drum
to summon the spirits
called out to ancestors
and...

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Our lives are not immune to the impact of time,
nor is our mind between the tensions of love and hate.
That's why I curse this wanderlust...

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Hourglass

Sand falls
Through the glass
Love falls
Within the past
Memories dance
They never last
Head in my hands
As I stare overhead
At the hourglass


Falling Down Stairs

Stairs broken
Wheels unspoken
I fell
Grasping for air
Are...

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to my kindred soul
...i know you are out there
somewhere on the other side
across cobblestone streets
that scorn my feet, like hearts
on the pathways and wrong turns
of...

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When smoke consumes clear horizons,
manipulating corridors of the mind,
beckoning imminent afflictions

poetry is the remedy.

A poet's first eternal love,
forming an authentic bond.
A tonic of silent expressions
creating...

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Childhood is a ship,
preparing to set sail,
but not all harbors are kind

the ocean a mysterious enigma.

Not all inflictions are visible,
some bruises remain invisible.
Not all trauma...

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For years before the narrow windows of my senses
                ...

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The distance between us means nothing~
      l've f a l l e n in love with you, despite the moon...

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Along this season’s mid quarter-time,
I find myself wandering between 
The raw of night’s wanton  pleasure
And the sacredness from morn awakened:
Late evenings replay a dancing...

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Frightend children under the baobab
Of elders discourse playing
At the deep edge of rites
Of passages
With no Atlantic dream.

There is a beauty here
Before the other world began
Forgetting...

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Slave to wayward thoughts,
unwritten poems return to haunt.
Tempest of tragedy arrives as a harbinger,
wrecking fences that divide sleeping paths. 

There is no one to show...

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The soul is but a vast ocean of vigilance

Streaming with incresent colours towards life

Infinite within its parhelion possibilities

Relentlessly searching, betwixt the everflowing tides

Whereupon all things...

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.

This desk with its scattered papers,
blotted ink and unsealed envelopes…
passages penned and tossed
in the confusion that lives and breathes in my mind…my heart

Distance frames the...

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In ode to all who succumb
through wayward passages
lined of scribble notes
dripping ink’s savagery,
staining cursive patterns
in Sylvia-like depressions

Jarred bells ring
down lost tunnels
around each dark corner…clang
from steeples...

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I try to draw a map of the universe in my mind
With language that cannot be accurate in any sense
I try to draw the map...

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