Lost work found and shared

Poem 9

This Hole

See I made myself this hole you see.

This hole where I.

Where I throw my problems down.

Throw my pain down, my sorrow down.

My coldness with boldness I threw that down.

Depression with no hesitation to toss with all intentions.

No regret for my conciseness.

Hope and bliss are all I want as a result.

See, I thought that if I place the negative and the hatred down this hole.

They could no longer hold me.

Who sees me?

Like tossing a coin in a well and making a wish.

With each quarter I kiss like it was my last.

Except this is me hoping it’s my last visit.

I throw my regret.

Not a spec left in me.

Drop it off my shoulder, grant me release.

Feelings of grief fell in all too easy.

That itch was destined to go.

Like blonds on horror picture shows.

My load will unfold and roll down the cylinder design before my eyes.

Tears that are cried.

Drip drop and won’t stop pouring down a cup with no bottom.

They just flowing past each other.

In this hole.

My feelings were null and numb.

That habit of sucking thumbs in panic.

Logically, I asked to be free of the load.

I hold.

I roll.

I tuck.

Hating the fear of being trapped behind bars.

Destination to the stars happens every full moon.

With you who follows my advice, don’t think twice.

Tell it to each other.

Tell another.

Let the world be passed amongst you.

I dropped it in the hole.

Lost Work found and shared

Poem 6

Death is no beginning to spinning tires screeching

Across the “Do Not Enter” signs

Death isn’t no lighting striking trees

Over local family houses.

It isn’t the day we would wonder our whole lives about.

But would fear true knowledge of the same day.

It isn’t a day when families grieve nor have yet to know

In bliss of a passing member.

It’s that moment before we hear it.

They stand still, long enough to cry before the apologies

And hugs of support come to catch me in my sorrow.

Broken heart’s hold each other in broken sorrows and despair.

Poem 7

Why does the moon show during the day

but during the night the Sun is now where to be found?

Is it too bright?

Or is it too big?

Is the moon just a shining rock?

Orbiting across the sky, flying high, looking back at us with gloom.

Showing all it’s faces, full, half and quarter and sometimes not at all.

And then the stars.

Poem 8

Mother of the project homes on section A

Living in buildings made of crumbling bricks,stone, and clay.

With screen doors that slammed

Harder than the life that Gina lived.

Mother of two, One more on the way.

Depressed by sounds of a phone call from the school.

Lost work found and shared

Poem 3

Is it the way I run away from my decisions once made?

Is it the way my hip refuse to sway?

Is it the train of the distance?

Was it a Harlem renascence?

Was it freedom in my path I searched for?

Look for?

In the middle of an ancient war against pain.

Depression sounds like a baby squealing away at its lungs.
Screaming voices among me as the next feelings of unsung destiny.

The best of me.

I yet to see in this place.

Patience and Grace befell my taste of hastiness.

I was never in complete bliss.

I made hissing sounds at the American Dream.

It seems simple without a single wrinkle.

I figured out the route to happiness was just a phase.

And I craved it.

Is it the way tears fell from her eyes?

Is it the way I never had a chance to say goodbye?

Is it the way death to my soul?

Holding me.

Providing deadly console.

Poem 4

As I sit here.

Miles Davis ringing in my ears.

Dare not shed a tear for you.

Dare not care for the dilemma.

I placed myself inside you.

Feelings of a confused soul sorting out of control.

And I’m left speechless by your actions.

Left completely alone in my room once more.

Once I felt the body that graced mine with warmth.

Once it might not have meant shit to you.

But I’m still in denial.

Still in utter shock from my vison of you with someone else to come true.

A prophet’s worst fear.

Some once foreseen in his visionary dream.

I see it as fate begins to take wing.

My face still froze with guilt.

I fooled myself.

Fooled my senses.

Fueled by make-believe worlds I drift off in while riding the bus.

And fuck it.

I admit I thought you might just see me.

The real thing that hands you whatever I got to offer.

I’m standing here with my heart.

 In my right pocket hiding it from you.