Dark. Poems

What I’ll say to my Congressional friends

What I’ll say to my Congressional friends
is that I'm waiting to see how all this ends.
And if with America a shining city on a hill,
I swear I'll apologize to you, I assuredly will.
But if it ends like I think it might,
in the darkest darkness ~ in the anti-light,
may you be forever damned for the part

Night breeze

All hustle calms and settles in their nest,
invisible silence rings,"time for rest"
lullaby doesn't sound the same for all,
some find hope sparkling while others fall,
echoes of sorrow sing their hue,
some drown, some seek  morning's dew,
endless stories flash but moon stays the same.
With tone of wisdom and love the night claims
when everyone sleeps, stars stay with

Pleading For Help

There are things in this life
Weighing me down it's true
There's anxiety and depression
Are some hell l go through

The part of life called living
This is the burden I bare
It would be different for me
Maybe if anyone would care

People who are close to me 
Have left me to be alone 
They don't like what they hear
My actions

With a Gentle Hand

Ignored wounds
do not bleed at once,
but when touched for cure
they ache longer than they should,
reminding us how silence gathers dust
inside the body.

It is not that love is feared,
only that sometimes
its arrival feels unnecessary
like an extra flame
in a room already warm.

Still, a newborn’s breath
teaches another language of affection,
a fragile trust resting
in the hollow of two palms.

Love

complacency brought us here

for-A Draconian State Poetry Contest-Sponsored by: Sara Jama
-------------------------

out into the midnight hour i was trudged-
silent eyes watched as i was bludged-
as i sat bloody and bruised-
i listen to what i was accused.

every week a new rule they would create-
with our freedoms removed there was no debate.
i was angry that a government could dictate-
so here iam

Emotional Buffet 2

I sat apart from life, too weary to live,
Even the breath I owed, I refused to give.

The curse of the world is rightful on me,
I thinned the trees, not the flowers to be.

In the end, the mind grows tired of love’s flame,
I made a firefly my partner in name.

Whatever the cause, it stands as a

forget not king warning

forget not king warning demonic 
danger incremental gradual liberal
nor genocide joey precedent 
nor dispensation donny cleansing
oligarchy authority false choice
g ford greater more effective evil
empire merrikka people subjects 
rejects will well being ignore
dream fruition arriving never more
guard commons free speech farmed
private sector extract boiled ready frog
politic elect thesbian culture war
tonies grammies oscars divide conquer
chopping chomsky consent

Ridiculous

Don’t spread cremation crumble on burnt toast.
Is what the undertaker said about dad’s ashes.
My furrowed brow responds…
Why? Who would do such a thing?

If you were to follow a random person 
from the street, ever wonder, where it might lead?
You just might pick some ordinary schmo.
single?
innocent?
cavalier?
kind?

You may find out something—wishing you hadn’t 
psycho?
shallow?
yokel?
callous?
hapless?
omnicidal?

Would you spread cremation

A painting without a name

I'm unsure of an image popping up in my head 
A dot locates alongside a crowd, with a space reserve
Until now, of its decay from the fresh dark to pale light 
Which has been started  the image once  begun to alive

It's been never so sure of that the disparity remained 
As a balanced

If Trump were to croak, say, by choking on a slice of papaya

If Trump were to croak, say, by choking on a slice of papaya, 
how long before his ilk would see it as a heavenly sign and run it by a 
biblical scholar who would then be given the imperative 
to scour the Bible to come up with a plausible narrative 
to prove that Trump's death

Mistaken Identity

We judge in others
what we secretly fear within ourselves,
the mirror of hypocrisy polished daily
until it blinds our reason.

I have walked England’s most expensive street,
and as a Black man,
I was clothed in poverty not of my making—
criminal, beggar, illegal—
an identity sewn into me by design,
to dehumanize for the comfort of others,
a madness normalized as truth.

When I

4:09:05

4:09:05
A familiar time which plays on repeat in my mind
Get the opposite of high, but I don’t know why
Cutting pounds but not just my weight
I’m not trying to over-exaggerate
But I think it’s time to say goodbye.

Being alone isn’t the same as feeling it
I just wanna stop, I just wanna quit

They say all it takes is

the absence of above

i seem to view the world in black and white despite my rainbow soul

my skin seems to seep the moisture of ones misfortune goal

i sharpened my broken fingers regardless of my rusty bones

in hope to fight all misfortunes and hell’s unwelcomed call

instead, i cut myself to pieces until there’s nothing left

then my rainbow soul escapes

Walk In The Park

How are you with long walks
At night through the park
Where shadows pepper the imagination
And thoughts flow on
With nothing to hold them back?

I love to take those walks in the dark
Both alone and with my friend,
Deep through our mind
To visit lost images,
Memories that live in the shadows,
Remnants of the past.

Do we remain in the shadows
Where my

Fate Tends Hang On a Knife-Edge

All because of that single decision 
To grasp that grate and breathe in the ethereal skies above 
Rather than 
To let go of that grate and suffocate in the foul sewage below 

Because of what he chose 
This is what he is 


Independent 
Not 
Incarcerated 

Whole 
Not 
Wounded 

Confident 
Not 
Confused 


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