The Poetry Marathon

The leaves are already changing
transforming from their summer greens
to fall’s oranges, reds and browns
Birds are migrating
Squirrels are foraging
Hot summer breezes change
to crisp October winds
days grow shorter
the nights grow longer
the sun’s warmth fades

It’s the season for pumpkin spice
stews and soups to keep you warm
pumpkin and pecan pies
apple and peach cobblers
time for Halloween when
witches and zombies roam the night
telling jokes to collect their candied pay
candy corn and cornucopias
Thanksgiving soon approaches
and fires will be crackling

It’s the time of year to settle down
to lay back and relax
to snuggle cozy under plush throws
sipping piping hot mugs of cocoa
watching family movies
spending more intimate family time
It’s the season for closeness
clothes that snug you, sweaters
and boots and overcoats
Fall is almost among us

in a simple black pen
ballpoint or gel
Bic or Papermate
Sharpie or Pilot
magic resides
It translates thoughts into words
words into images
images into feelings
There is power in a simple black pen
A power to build
A power to destroy
A power to create what was not there before
A simple black pen
ballpoint or gel
carries within itself
a whole world of magic

Love is Black
it is freedom rides
marches on Washington
and Black Lives Matter protests
and I am a man picket signs

Love is Black
it is historical
it is music
it is books
it is lifelong learning

Love is Black
It’s Mamie and Emmett Till
Merlie and Medgar Evers
Malcolm X & Betty Shabazz
Martin & Coretta King
Barack & Michelle Obama

Love is Black
it’s Huey P Newton & Bobby Seale
Elaine Brown & Assata Shakur
Stokely Carmichael & Fred Hampton
Afeni & Tupac Shakur
Patrice Lumumba & Nelson Mandela

Love is Black
It’s Richard Wright & Ralph Ellison
James Baldwin & Langston Hughes
Zora Neale Hurston & Alice Walker
Toni Morrison & Maya Angelou
Love is Black
It’s bell hooks & Audre Lorde
June Jordan & Roxane Gaye
Jesmyn Ward & Angela Davis
Jacqueline Woodson & Amanda Gorman

Love is Black
It’s Betty Davis & Donna Summer
Luther Vandross & Wilson Pickett
Marvin Gaye & Tami Terrell
Billie Holiday & Marian Anderson

Love is Black
our blood is soaked in southern lands and city streets
our bodies lie in waterways and oceans
we were brought to this place, severed from our pasts, our people, our history
but we reinvented ourselves, creating a culture from dust

Love is Black
we fight for the freedoms of EVERYONE
we carry democracy on our backs
we are shunned, criticized, our culture worn like clothes
AND STILL we fight, for us, for you and for you too

Love is Black
with every protest we raise a mirror for America to see herself
we have been fighting the longest war, the war for true freedom
the war for a near perfect democracy
we are the SOUL of America, and the soul is love and love is black

black butterflies
dance on the wind
in a cerulean sky
a contrast of colors
two black spots
on a canvas of blue

The world is a noisy place
But not just with sound
Light too is noisy
flashing, flickering, neon and bright
beeps, buzzing, chitter and chatter
blah, blah, blah
Phone screens are noise
Social media is noise
TV screens are noise
sound bars are noise
louder
louder
brighter
brighter
I crave for days of silence
days of stillness
days of allowing ourselves to be
the world is a noisy place
it’s time to travel inwards
it’s time to listen to the self

No longer do I hear
the laughter of children
nor the pattering of little feet
racing to play with me
No longer do I feel
the warmth of little bums
as they wriggle to find comfort
on my wooden lap
nor the squeeze of little hands
grasping my ropes as I carry them
up and up and up
I wonder if I still exist in their minds
Do they remember our time together?
Maybe not. For I have been left
left to rot in rain
left to bleach in sunlight
I fear no one remembers me
My only company, these sunflowers
they chatter incessantly
bobbing their oversized heads in summer breezes
I don’t speak their language
therefore I am still lonely
lonely in a field of yellow happiness
I long for a child’s touch
So here I am
a lonely lowly wooden swing
waiting for a child, any child
to play with me

He stands in a field of flowers
Nestled in the scent of wild peonies
Gazing off into the distance
Searching for the perfect composition
Creating with his mind’s eye
a frame by frame image for the perfect photograph

The neighbors complained
Complained about the smells
the malodorous odor of rotting flesh
The neighbors tried to help
The neighbors called the police
their warnings falling on deaf ears
No one listened, Excuses were made,
“Well she’s a drug addict, she can be anywhere” or
“He is an army vet, harmless and polite” or
“He is a politician, he would do no such thing” or
“he is a good-looking white man, why would he lie?”
No one listened and the smells
the smells permeated through plastered walls,
emitted from beneath living room floorboards and backyard soil
men missing, teenaged boys missing, black females missing
No one listened

Yellow crime scene tape surrounds
An apartment building and two houses
Forensic folks in their Tyvek Michelin man suits
loading boxes into awaiting vans and pick-up trucks
removing a deep freezer, 55 gallon barrels,
remains being collected and placed in black body bags
33 teenaged boys, 17 men of color, 11 black women
Cleveland, Chicago and Milwaukee
three men, 60 victims

The neighbors complained
Complained about the smells
the malodorous odor of rotting flesh
The neighbors tried to help
The neighbors called the police
No one listened, no one
Listen to the neighbors
Listen

ring finger extended
ready to accept
princess cut diamond shimmers and echoes the light
the first half, the start, the beginning
this, this is the second half
where she becomes made anew
the unveiling of her face,
the shedding of an old skin
she is being rebirthed
Her eyes twinkle and sparkle
echoing the joy in her heart
the diamond, the ceremony, being reborn in this way
something most women want to experience
but many won’t get to touch

She sits awaiting the coffee brew
In her wicker armchair she waits
The coffee swirls into the mug
covering her white pants with brown stains
scalding her, and she screams
She screams, the coffee is hot
the coffee burns her skin
she floats up, up, up
to the brim, reaching for the rim, reaching
She awakens
her coffee, spilled across the desk
drip, drip, dripping it’s hot brew on her leg