Poetry – Page 4 – Liferaft in the Abyss

Why does my mind….

….want to fill in all spaces? Walls of all trophies, certificates of accomplishments, Walls of pictures. But I can’t see the color of paint. And the doors and windows mean nothing to me….

Yes, that’s right; I don’t like the color pink. I hate pink. It Clashes with my sense of empowerment. I don’t like pink, especially when it comes to the feminine. It says ‘weak’, ‘lesser sex’, ‘gays and lesbians belong in concentration camps’. And that the wearer can be abused as and Short changed. Why peopleContinue reading “I don’t like pink.”

I am death, a poem.

I couldn’t drive, because my body refused to stay seated, And learned to walk instead. Looking in any mirror a dead man smiles a wane smile. Only life exist in the present, but shackled to past, or fearful of the future is death. How many times should I kill myself to know Life?

below average, a poem.

I wonder whatmy other Selveswould say to me…. “You say you sexless than three mena week?…. “You must sexually starved.” I say, “the quality is OK,but everyone knows your name….” “although they hit the spot, some ofthem willdull your spirit and consume you like poppers….” “and the homeless suffer more….” But of course, they wouldn’tContinue reading “below average, a poem.”

My first memory of Elizabeth II, a poem

She driven in an old convertable In a black and white film. How pretty, So sad.

Is it getting hotter? #1, a poem.

….needy, needy people,sweating in thesun. The wateris drying up. Dams and reservoirscannot holdwhat isn’t there. Your AC works just fine…. Until the lightsGoes out.

the needy, a poem.

LA is grittier than San Diego; more smoke cigarettes, more women wearin’ tight jean shorts. Some are wealthy Some are not. All are needy of being human. In the 2nd Confederacy, they burn books and women are ordered to give birth, with babies holding bibles….

Captive audience….a poem.

Watching this play is killing me. The directing and staging are terrible, the acting half-hearted, the plot unbelievable. I was tied to my chair, way in the back bleeding from nose and ears. But I pulled at those ropes, Until I became Free….

Southern Comforts….a poem.

I once lived in Florida, but never saw any gators…. But I did have a bible thrown at me enterin’ a gay bar. Nothin’ like that warm Southern Comfront, Where men are men, stuck in someone else’s closet. And the women can only make babies…. But I guess it ain’t so bad, sense that drinkContinue reading “Southern Comforts….a poem.”

Character Flaws, a poem.

When people betray me, it takes me too long to forgive. I don’t mind poverty. What would I do with wealth when there is so much suffering. I’m a Blackman in America, (and no one will date me.) I’m Bi, and no one will date me! I’m too brave to be an atheist and AbrahamContinue reading “Character Flaws, a poem.”