“In the
poets penetrating vision, reflects the fate of those who suffer and are
lost at the edge of awareness and compassion — our inspiration flows in
from wherever we have found it or more to the point, from wherever life
has found us brave enough to confess our vulnerability, Dr. Michael Eric
Dyson.”
___________________________________________________________________________
A
Dreams Question --- For Langston Hughes,
respectfully
For
what Dreams are made of
Do
they not imprint
Unlimited
possibilities
To
one day become true?
Recollect
every dream
You
have ever had…
Have
they only asked
One
thing of you?
Just
to believe…
Because
to become
Without
meaning
Is
identical to
Having
meaning
And
never become
Both
polarities
Give
definition
To
the word
Emptiness
So
the next time
A
dream asked of you
To
aspire
And…
reach
Simply
listen…
For
it will ask, only once
To
seize the opportunity
Then
it is forever gone…
________________________________
Butterfly
Effect I
Today
a butterfly flapped its
wings-breaking
every sound barrier known to man
and
in that instant her lonely
spirit-rose
from breath and dissipated into dust…
each
grain whispering my name
as
it searched for refuge in my loving arms but
I --- was out of her reach eternally….
then
her spirit caressing my mind
as
the shadow she left vanished and
each flicker of the butterfly’s wings
opened
up and touched my scorned body and
in that fleeting --- moment…
she
had found her place.
________________________________________
Starvin’
I
brought to your table My
ferocious appetite
The
dinner table succulent set But
what I found was
Ghosts,
smirking
Gossiping,
evocatively Drinking
and eating…
I
sat
With
knife and fork Aroused
by the smell
Teased
by the taste Fooled
by the tongue
While
the ghosts drank merlot
For
they already knew Their
feelings medium rare
Never
grilled To
perfection…
Nevertheless
Food
was being served My
mouth salivated
The
aroma nested under my nose But
I never had the chance
To
chew-out What
I really ate
The
pit of my stomach Growling
and nauseated
So
here I sit –
Sharing
a toast among spirits At
your dinner table
Thirsty
and starvin’
While
the ghosts give a burp
And
big
belly rub Because
you apparently
Are
not able To
eat alone.
collaboration by, Robyn Mayo
________________________________________ Death Whispers
When death whispers Does it brush the canvass
Against
the flow amidst?
Does it splatter Life’s soulful kiss?
Does it choke the breath Out-of-thin-air?
Does it weaken the body To its own despair?
The trumpets sound
A thunderous
Glo---reeeey Will I be there, where others
Have went before me? Or
Will I Encircle life Once again
In its trite To hear
The Whisper of Death.
A Collab-oration with Robyn Mayo
_______________________________________________
An Apology’s Prayer
We promised we'd keep trying,
But we never promised our success.
So if this is our final goodbye,
Don’t cry or be distressed.
Don’t think of the way we died,
And be cursed with our sorrows.
Don’t wonder about my last thoughts,
And cry for my our lost tomorrows.
I don’t want you to inherit,
A darkness deep enough to choke in.
I just want to stop begging,
Stop feeling pain and instead ascend.
This is the gift I leave for you,
With kisses to tame your fear.
So, If you ever need my strength,
It will always be there.
Its not enough to save us,
So I can’t offer you very much.
But what little I have left now,
My adoration, love and such...
I won’t take this all with me,
It doesn’t write off our emotions,
and if I ever said – babe, I love you,
I wasn’t just going through the motions.
Don’t give up love because of me,
Our circumstances aren’t the same.
And know I hope you find peace,
Instead of casting me of all the blame.
Honestly, I wish we both find heaven,
Ill pray you find happiness, true.
Remember how we lived this dance
And forgive me for my weakness too.
________________________________________________
Methodical Prose --
Knelt in a pool of sullen hunger
all eyes on you; held in torrid exhale
I look to you for solace; for empathy; for fire...
Your brilliant mind fan the strings
and your words cut out feelings
Once buried in a listless shallow
grave.
I look on you with worship; with pain; with passion...
Searched lyrical meaning in your promises
you sing your dedication a-loud
and suspend my sudden attention…
Our hearts tumble from our lips
Things we'd rather not mention --
we tell stories we lived through
like exposed memories endured
Naked, shamed or disgraced…
We filtered out amid the temptations
n’ lust…
Our bodies entangled – but I --- needed more…
And…I --- deserved more…
We craved much more….
And you reached for more…raped me of
more… Yet time stood still for our
torturous desire…
Art embodied thru whispers in
midnight air, That clung to moons that were never
there…
As our souls traumatized and
split-into
tiny pieces,
of prose…
_______________________________________________
My King
My King…
I am born of your stately masterpiece
The way you came in and made all others seem as nothing
Your gallant actions and words caught me off guard
But at the same time, grounded me; centered me…
And I was in awe of your dedication, integrity and confidence
Finally, when I wasn’t seeking, wishing…reaching….
You effortlessly entered my world, courageously took my hand in yours…
You touched every living breathing part of me; until I was breathless.
My King…
I awake to the sound of your concerto
Your sultry voice, beckons with strength; admiration..
Your directions are a sound of grace; and for once, I can exhale…
I have found it hard to describe how I feel;
All am I left with is; honesty…purity of sight, and sound.
Please lift me higher, take me with you where it is you walk…
Feed me your influence; Lead me in your path…
Teach me to lean on every command you desire…
As I gravitate towards your Dominance…
My King…
I sleep to the last chord in your sonata
The past is forgotten when I look into your eyes
All that exist is you, us and our future…
There is not enough poignancy in my delivery of this poem
To convey the sentiment you given me; is merely impossible…
I am utterly abundant in your arms
I yearn to be held and steered by your passion
This is whole nother’ level of worship…
The foundation blessed by God; and evolved by his poise
There is no comparison for the emotions you bring to me;
In You, I found truth
In You, I found love
In You, I found adulation
In You, I found wholeness
My King; I am written to you as your opus.
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