Are you a toaster? A painting? Or are you what You create? I’m someone perfecting myself as a sexual being. I am a bearer of orgasm And ecstacy. This is my way.
Category Archives: Poetry
Who are we?
People walking, while people sleep in the streets. Is that an emotion, A sense of helplessness? A powerlessness, despite having wealth Or fame. Are we a people anymore? Are we human, Are you human?
Airport 992
I ride buses to get to work, to visit friends. I ride the 992 to get to work, But more often I desire to jump on a plane and fly home. Here, black are seemingly always poor and of lower class. I’m only here to make money, Only be abused.
Don’t look back….
Soulmates, allies or enemies: They all look alike under the skin And carry no visible weapons. Don’t like being unevenly yoked, I pull myself. The attraction is real, but I pretend they are not there. I’ve been here before and I don’t want to play anymore. All I want is the exit door.
(*pop*)
I was high above themountainswhen I heardthe(*pop*). I threw outmy Mercedes,andMy jeweledRolex And still Iwentdown. I didn’t want tofreeze upthere, So I threwoutsome more. Over theside, over desertsI dumpedmy furs. I landed inOcean. I couldn’t swim,letting goMy ego,and felt…. Buoyant.
A Old Thing
Billion of years ago,A thing crawled froman ocean,Because there wasnothing leftfor it to eat. It ate everythingon the beach,then crawledintoa nearby forrest And ate,and ate,eventhetinyfurrybrownthings goteaten, Until the landsbecamea desert. With nothingleft,It crawledupAmountain,Diedandbecameextinct….
I don’t….
I don’t believe in Jesus, even he were real I will not follow him, Or his sisters and brothers. They’re just evil, even when wearing a dress. Ditto for heaven and hell. But I do have faith In myself, And the goodness found in humanity and a mystery called the afterlife.
Myself, Included
Do I care about individual grains of sand? Humanity and human knowledge Is said to be vast, but Is no larger than a grain of sand. For all your glory you are nothing human. Myself included.
….try, try again.
Of course…. Can you anyone Win against mother nature? Just when you righted yer’ rudder, A freakish wave cums through, Doing what you’ve Done: Ride along. Ah, well…. If you don’t succeed….
Dance date
I don’t know how Many times I’ve met my dancer. I didn’t go to my school prom, so didn’t die in the fire the night…. I think I saw him in the eyes of a twelve year old Black boy with a .38, HIV at age 24, gone in six months. And as I age,Continue reading “Dance date”
Liferaft in the Abyss 