Spoken Poems

One Today

A day may be yesterday,
a day may be tomorrow,
fragments of the past,
and whispers of the future.

But!

Today is not yesterday,
And today is never tomorrow.
Today is the present,
to be lived,
one breath,
One heartbeat,
one moment at a time.

There may be many yesterdays,
and tomorrows are never promised.
But for each daily journey,
you are given only,
one today.

West Coast Kool Jazz

West Coast Kool Jazz/ Spoken Word
In the air of the West, a cool breeze blows with a brushed silver sound, air-conditioned rhythm, sleek and precise, a cool jazz crown/West Coast KOOL JAZZ is born, where the vibe slides in quiet silk/where shadows flicker like neon on a sun-worn beach/ Shorty Rogers at the gate of

Poet on the Mic

Poet don’t feel right
Poet struggles sleeping at night
POETS NEVER SLEEP

At least…that’s what other poets keep telling me
But this lackluster slumbering just might be
From the unwavering weight of all responsibility

Poet only seems awake while walking through daydreams
Only wants to live life lavished in imagination
Painting alternate universes in which the stars guide me

An alternate universe in which

Beyond the Blackbox

Attention:
This one is the problem child.

Mom and dad deny autonomy
take authority over a diary
supervised at all times; no privacy
door hinge wide open
so why are the walls closing in?

This home is an emotion free zone
Mom says save it for therapy
but stops taking me
says my borderline personality is burdening this family’s budget
believes I’ll be cured if she

Home

She say she wants to go home with me tonight as we sit by the bus park,
but I tell her we can make home right here in this moments,
haven't you heard heavens rumours that the god of love escaped,
maybe the rumours are true cause you are with him at the moment,
gods create let me create

Echo in the fog

 I’m stuck in the silence between ticking clocks,
Where time moves forward but I stay locked.
Feet in the mud, mind in the sky,
Everyone's flying, and I don’t know why
I’m still grounded—wings never grew,
Or maybe they did, but I never knew.

I walk through crowds like I’m made of glass,
See-through smiles as they hurry past.
They don’t see

LOVING YOU IS AN ART

Loving You Is an Art ????

Loving you is an art,
Not just words, not just emotions,
Not just romance.

It is like carving a linocut,
Each stroke, each cut—
Careful, gentle,
So I do not wound the sketch,
The same way I hold your heart,
Responsible not to hurt you.

Loving you is an art,
Like stringing beads with patience.
And when the thread breaks,
And the

BLOODLINE ECHOES

I walk with a weight that I never quite chose,
But somehow it fits, like the thorn on a rose.
The pain and the beauty, they bloom just the same—
Two sides of a story that whisper my name.

Born of a mother whose roots ran so deep,
But stolen at birth in a silence that still weeps.
They called it

THE GROOVE IS MIGHTY HIGH

THE GROOVE IS MIGHTY HIGH/ LET’S THROW DOWN AND FLY UP TO THE SKY/
KEROUAC BLOWIN’WORD JAZZ WITH STRINGS/MILES AT THE BLACK KAWK, MAN WHAT A SCENE/ JACK AND MILES WALKED THE WALK AND TALKED THE JAZZ TALK/ NO BLUE NOTES HERE/JUST HIGH NOTES OF BE-BOP KOOL/ MAN I’M INTO THIS JAZZ SCENE/SAY BABY WHATCHA SAY?

Jesus Doesn't Need A Rebrand - Part 02

If the message doesn’t have lights,
If the preacher doesn’t rhyme,
If the singer isn’t “branded” enough,
You say it’s not Spirit-filled.
Since when did the Holy Ghost depend on your playlist?

I cry for you.

I cry for the singer drowning in the noise of their gift.
For the preacher who can draw a crowd but can’t discern demons.
For the Christian

Jesus Doesn't Need A Rebrand - Part 01

Let’s stop pretending.
This isn’t evangelism.
This is idolatry in disguise.
You’ve baptized compromise and called it creativity.
You’ve clothed rebellion in relevance,
And made God’s altar a stage for your ego.

How much more of the world must you wear
Before you realize the Gospel is naked truth
Not a costume for cultural approval?

How many times must you flirt with sin
Before you

Lust, A Dangerous Master -Part 02

If you cannot overcome lust in the time of grace,
What makes you think you will stand in the days without it?
For the trumpet is close, the sky ready to split
And only the righteous shall be removed from the wrath to come.

Flee now while mercy still calls.
Run from the screen, the scene, the shadow, the scroll.
Run

Lust, A Dangerous Master- Part 01

I lift my eyes from the place of my struggle,
From the dark corners where battles rage unseen.
My help comes from the Lord,
Maker of heaven, earth, and the depths of my heart.

Lust has destroyed more than wine ever could
It cloaks itself in pleasure,
But its bite is sharper than steel.
It kisses the lips, then devours the soul.

It

WORSE THEN DOGS

WORSE THAN DOGS

Mi step off di docks, salt burn in mi chest,
Suit sharp-press, hope pin to mi vest.
Windrush blood, calypso fire,
Dreams of gold — meet cold barbed wire.
“Welcome,” dem sneer wid a crooked grin,
Door slam shut — all ‘cause a mi skin.

Signs in window cut like knives:
NO BLACKS. NO DOGS. NO IRISH. — lives.
But truth

DAMAGE

I open my mouth
My anger spills out
I say things I don’t mean
And mean things I won’t say
Damage

Oh such damage

Strangers or friends
Words I can’t defend
Family is broken
From words that I’ve spoken
When will it end?
Damage

Too much damage

So conflicted
I’ve inflicted
So much hurt
So much pain
Words like weapons
Sharper than knives
Killing dreams
Shredding lives
Damage

Unjustified
Unspeakable
Damage
Bludgeoning words
Shattered spirits
Wounded hearts
Crippled lives
Killing words
Chilling words
Handful of syllables
Damage

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