heart is bulging out of my chest the air thin   hand clutched over mouth no sound shall escape no sound   the blood gushes through my veins roars angry and scared   rough stone scratches at my neck so long as I press against…

Let Me I am begging: Let me be lonely but not invisible Let me be single but not divisible your infinity palm let me hold your golden eyes let me behold dawn to dusk your charm spreads highs and lows your feet treads your words…

Shhhh He never listens. Cuts me off backs me up Into a corner Lines up the next verbal punch. I ask again: Is it ok to just not answer someone? If they ask you directly. I get more non answers. A swerve. He thinks he…

My grandmother’s garden with rabbits eating her plants, my grandfather waking up at five in the morning every day to make his social rounds. A handmade first communion dress, magnolia trees in bloom, unwrapped Christmas presents, stepping on a metal rake and lying in a…

  Though Mother Goose was his wingman, His dad’s ghost always flew shotgun. With brilliant mind and rebel heart, He was too good for his own good. A fearless fighter pilot, known For his control tower fly-bys, His reckless indiscretions could Have tossed them both…

I saw the madness all around me. Black men dragged by their broken Feet. Perforated dreams Holes in their family Death not an adequate explanation Teenagers, far from their gilded homes Experimenting Not afraid. But Christ They should be. The power of unity Taking us…

it makes me glad to know you see me through the clouds and all the shadows that they cast but How can I accept the the blessings you bring if they make this  much joy for me and you’re still feeling blue? When do you…

My Mother My mother The one who bore me My mother The one who loved me   My mother When I cried she wiped my tears My mother When I fell ill she was in pain for me   My mother In prayers for me…

Prompt for Hour Seventeen   Books and people are nearly the same. Books just like people have lots they can claim.   Turning a page is like asking a question. A person like a book has a secret confession.   Reading a book’s like listening…

Hr. 5 Prompt 22, 2016 Sitting here writing Making my mark You can laugh I did, it’s late Should be sleeping But here I sit Writing poems all night I must be nuts Pencil to paper Mind thinking My honey’s upset Night is for sleeping