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Ts Lewis Poem
Five thousand two hundred
eighty feet
between our first hello
and last goodbye
Love seems to sprint
the way light flickers
from a firefly's particulars.
Marathon matrimony
Run one race
with me
let's see how far
momentum takes us.
Tired, panting,
gripping asphalt
with our fingers
just to get a foothold
on a finish line
we can see.
It ain't always about who
wins a quarter mile,
sometimes it's
about the distance
between hello
and never letting go.
Sometimes a person
holds you
so tight
time pauses
and finish lines
fade away.
You realize,
life is measured
in heartbeats
and two or three
chest pounding
thumps is enough
to revive a lifetime
of wants
When your with
that special one,
to the moon and
back takes about
an hour flat.
Hello, a mile,
don't ever
say goodbye
I know for a fact,
whatever the race,
you make my heart
keep pace.
Copyright © Ts Lewis | Year Posted 2015
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Ts Lewis Poem
The vibes we ride
the highs, the lows
conversations with
conclusive innuendos
Hypotheticals and
experiments
we engage in
acrobatics of
noun and verb duels
Your en garde
I fall hard
Butter knife
tongues
Eucharistic bread
the uncovering
of your body
unravels my
mentality
Intoxicatingly
sipping your
Lord have mercies
Amen and Amen
Copyright © Ts Lewis | Year Posted 2019
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Ts Lewis Poem
The mistake made in word association is thinking that an associative word should fit
normal patterns. Normalcy isn't always consistent with creativity, therefore, the design may have to change so the poem fits mind frames. In regards to mathematics, I was told seven was perfection. Six imperfection and although eight was enough, biblically it means resurrection. But added all together, twenty-one represents man's wickedness so how can we have imperfection, perfection, resurrection and end up with wickedness in the same story line? We were perfect before words entered the equation. There was a knowable number of stars before we ever opened our eyes. Enlightenment became entrapment and religion authorized this. We gave up unbelievable wonder for a light like no other. Here's the crux of my prose, if sun is God's splendor, I just need you, the smallest sliver. A divided light beam barely bright, but giving so much insight. The way a little light seeps through eye lashes and lids when eyes are stuck together. Your darkened outline begins to take shape the more pupils dilate. With very little light I begin to see a dream coming true - awakening to visions of you. Mathematics was the word that had me monetizing how I could get paid loving only you.
Copyright © Ts Lewis | Year Posted 2018
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Ts Lewis Poem
Slaves could not devise an escape plan until their thinking arrived in a free state of mind. Couldn't begin to break free from bondage that surrounded their bodies because an intact spirit was key for the freedom they needed. So they, the masters, solidified sanctuaries and brought a savior to fix a brokenness they had induced. Gave one direction to single point of entry. Told them to repent for sins they were never privy to until illegitimate children began establishing the first welfare state. Then they said, "It's all on you." That makeshift cell formed dorms and prisons broken men came to live in. One thought he was free, while the other began forming an escape plan. Both came from the same sanctuary designed to keep them from attaining a free state of mind. One grew accustomed to it. The other ran out there screaming, "I knew it! I knew it!" If God were truly in man, we wouldn't had to devise such an elaborate escape plan. And if he is, why did he beat this attitude in me?
Copyright © Ts Lewis | Year Posted 2018
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Ts Lewis Poem
Her language drips with intelligence
The slow drizzle of innuendos
and proclamations from which
she speaks is like witnessing
stalagmites and stalagtites
finally touching as if
each syllable was measured
by a drip
so edifying
And it's not just what she says
but how her lips catch the light
of a candle glow
and how the corners of her mouth
dance with her dimples,
her essence is edible
quite incomprehensible
how one can starve
by tasting it
I love every morsel,
every crumb that falls haphazardly,
to the floor, jealous of the way,
her tongue can be so judgemental,
inviting then inciting, enveloping
making me wish I had
lettered in spiritual dynamics.
I would have been a star
without ever touching a ball.
Her hello, and me running a million miles
in my mind trying to think of some other word
that rhymes with this title
other than bed...
I am fed
Copyright © Ts Lewis | Year Posted 2018
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Ts Lewis Poem
The brilliance of the universe has already unfolded. Our lives are wrinkles in that universal crease. And everything we have witnessed is merely one fold in that unfolding. If God's map is infinite, we should be peering beyond heaven. We should at least be in the second fold of that unfolding. But most of us, view God as if the map was still closed. We cannot see past heaven, it we are unwilling to let go of hell.
Copyright © Ts Lewis | Year Posted 2019
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Ts Lewis Poem
I am tied to royalty
the way oceans
are fastened to
moon fluctuations
the way our skin
absorbs sun's radiation
with mathematical
efficiency
producing Nubian
improvisations
from translucent tans
and honey hued browns
to shades of ink
that rivaled midnight
when we opened our eyes
the earth contained starlight
tied to royalty
we made ivory crowns
fashionable
and kings requisitioned
vines for chains
If the moon's pull
causes oceans to move
towards her
My desire must've danced
with my design
before our skin collected
freedom's anthem
Beauty made in abstentia
baptized by indigo
vision, piercing
One hundred years in
our language
started to fade
A cerebral infraction occurred
on the grandest scale
unimaginable
we suffered
word extinction
man muted, forced fed
profits, I wonder
if we'd ever know truth
that didn't involve
"In God We Trust?"
My tongue wants to
form words, my mind
cannot name
Royalty, money laundered loyalty
Wordsmith
Copyright © Ts Lewis | Year Posted 2019
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Ts Lewis Poem
The same cross you nail someone else's sin to; will be the same one used to advertise you.
The day gold became more important than bartering; was a time the world had been bought, and short-changed.
The time the world had been short-changed; was the moment within ourselves, our heart was corruptible.
The moment our heart was corruptible, prompted our souls scattering.
Now we see people selling their souls for worthless pieces of paper.
And we fashion ourselves as unrecognizable characters.
Woke people scream amongst the loudest traffic, but no one listens because gold keeps on glistening.
The crowd will pass an empty cross, and not ignore it. They pick the ugliest sin possible and say you deserve to be on this.
While going to Sunday brunch, knowing they too, deserved it.
Now, I ask you, was the gold worth it?
Copyright © Ts Lewis | Year Posted 2019
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Ts Lewis Poem
The jagged edges
of her brokenness
fit the zig-zagged
lines of all the times
I fell and was
made whole again
My puzzle's
missing piece
Picture perfect
iodine on a scraped
knee, a sensation
captured by a gentle
breeze, sometimes
love is nothing
more than pain
being replaced
by a beautiful scar;
if you trace the
lines across
porcelain faces
do the cracks
in the facade
feel fantastical
or real?
Hard to believe
her jagged edges
and my zig-zagged
lines could from
such a beautiful
rendition of all the things
I was missing
Copyright © Ts Lewis | Year Posted 2018
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Ts Lewis Poem
The evolution of humans is that
we went from simple cell
organisms to plastics.
All this fakeness makes me
want to embrace realness.
Blemishes and weight gain,
silver hair with golden bands
the struggles that come with reality
Dismantling falsities
that blind us from our truth,
You can't because
should be erased from
our vocabulary
becuase the mere definition
of becuase
should render
I can. I just want to feel real
have it ooze through
my fingertips
the same way saltwater
and sand flows through hands
when you try to take
hold of a beach.
I want to be reconnected
with plankton and
oxygenated substances.
Plastics are suffocating
that is way it has a
choking hazard as an
attachment.
Why can't you just enjoy yourself
in the skin your in?
Grow with it,
let it be your tuxedo
you wear in your golden years,
Your wrinkles and surgery marks
tears from broken hearts,
a smile that's slightly crooked
or a tongue that to this day
reminds me
it could've been a different
kind of yesterday.
Embrace the flaws
Hug them all
that's that
perfectly perfected feeling
of realness so many
seldom see.
That's what I see
when bodies have
evolved too far.
Copyright © Ts Lewis | Year Posted 2018
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