Long Keloid Poems

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IN CELEBRATION OF BLACK HISTORY MONTH: 2025 
				
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Once again, it’s Black History Month; a time to celebrate
And commemorate Blacks and those many organizations
Which have,...

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IN CELEBRATION OF BLACK HISTORY MONTH: 2025 
				
			           1

Once again, it’s Black History Month; a time to celebrate
And commemorate Blacks and those many organizations
Which have,...

Read More

You were born to be a filigreed crown
to soar like the swift      never touch ground
but they gave you labels   suiting their thought
words sharpened like knives   ...

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With our present world encapsulated

In a shell of abject tragedy, it’s becoming

Painfully difficult to pen pleasurable words

Of the beautiful glow of the graces of nature

As that of humankind blooms dark graveness:-

 

Today, declining humor, splendor,...

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US AND THE STATE OF THE WORLD

With our present world encapsulated
In a shell of abject tragedy, it’s becoming
Painfully difficult to pen pleasurable words
Of the beautiful glow of the graces of nature
As that of humankind blooms...

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AT THE CROSSROADS OF CHANGE

On the wings of time, we’ve soared
From the canyons of history to the horizon
That has become ourstory’s beginnings:-

From the clefs of struggle, was heard
A creak in the door of time; was...

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A pallid night, a void's umbral reign,
Emptiness, a phantom, claimed the lane.
A dirge of noir, a melancholic strain,
Echoes, sepulchral, whispered in the rain.
The phantasmal memory, a haunting pain,
The keloid scars, where shadows still remain.

A thunderous...

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      Numb to sun's torture, scathed terrain
      Syphons cynic's air, ribs poised 
      Statuesque breath stoic barren refrain
  ...

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Today my flowing pen
Streams screaming words
Cascading to hungry eyes
And thirsty ears of waves
Of the oceans of minds
Waiting to be sailed upon
In the winds of whatever
The day has decided to blow
Into sleeping sails awaiting
To be blown...

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I Am That I Am…Without End…

Listen, my heart is a soul drum
Beating the spiritual rhythms 
Of the sojourning struggle of life—
Pumping pulsating blood inking
The notes of our story—flowing 
From the past to the present—banked
In the...

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IN PRAISE OF DIVINE LIBERATION

I once wallowed in apathy,
I once had bad feelings
Of being unworthy;
Struggling with failure:-
In anger, I once felt
God had abandoned me,
Until a keloid memory
Of a childhood lesson
In gracious spirituality,
Massaged my aching soul;
And...

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I’m not whom
You may think 
I am
But am the who
That I am
And the coming
To being more
As the belly
Of my soul               ...

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Weaving the labyrinth of the tyranny of time,
let not the chartered task waiting ashore 
become a victim of the rising tides of apathy 
between our temple pillars of faith and hope.

Rather, in the due time...

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Today, lynching has gone
From roped necks and trees
To piercing bullets and klan knees;
Free from guilt and doing no wrong.
Yet, the hued victims remain the 
Same;
And seeking immediate justice seems
Just insane;
Today’s dead man walking, is surely
A...

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They are the fruits
of our sown seeds
in the womb of life;

They are the foot-stepped
followers of today’s times
and its challenges;

They are the precious gifts
that our Creator’s love
has given us to cherish;

They are the navel travelers
whose pathway...

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LIKE A TREE PLANTED BY THE WATERS


Though stolen, I never left you: remaining
     Like a keloid
Etched across your healing womb.

The umbilical flow of a river never
     Empties...

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I'm a dark-hued poetic mind
           Writing mine:
Inking navel keloid words
            Water-broken
   ...

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WAITING IN LIMBO

Sitting on the muddy banks
Of faded realities,
Lingering in the spaces of time,
Lost souls struggle:
Seeking another Dreamer.

Powering pawn brokers,
Tighten their mogering grasp
Beyond the setting sun; 
Leaving frailed victories festering
And waning in winds of change:-

White...

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Abandoned Trunks And The Children  
		There laid the empty gray trunk;
		never to hold a thing again.
		There in the blood-wet soil,
		a sadden decaying lump.
           ...

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TO THE TASK AHEAD FOR OUR WRITERS

No one can write our story but us;
His story merely footnotes us:-
In the culture of the penned word,
We must personally ink ourstory;
Footnoting history’s keloid pains:-

In doing so, the rules...

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for a wilted flower blooming again

paper flowers
don’t grow
and love 
is not a play thing

you tickled my heart
and I giggled silly tears

you reeled me in
as I feasted
on your sweet bait

then you left
leaving me 
like an old...

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POETIC FOOTPRINTING
(A Senryu Septet-Thought For Today)

Spiritually,
Poets walk poetic feet;
Sojourning life:-

In sojourning life, 
Which foot begins the journey;
And which foot ends it?*

When you lose your feet,
They can no longer footprint;
Thus, footprint your mind:-

Footprinting the mind,
Ensures keloid...

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For me,
Penning poetic words,
Is a desired labor of love;
Sharing life’s awareness
Of the guided wisdom
Poured out of God’s cistern
To wave and froth inspiration;
And the beauty
Of it all
Is that God’s cistern
Is eternally overflowed
With such frothing words;
Energizing
Thirsty searching...

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My arms bear a map of the path 
from invisible to insane.
I've walked these roads for decades.
I'm still exactly the same.
I'm a four year old girl,
with fourteen year old thoughts
in a twenty-four year old body.
My...

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