Self Evident

It’s not so much the truth that bothers

Truths like lies

can sometimes shift

so whether they’re spat or whispered

they’ll always unfold

It’s the lying that kicks up the brick dust

The you can lie to them, we all do it

We’re all a them to someone

Where honesty hung off the tongue ready to dive

there’s only omission

a clean unwillingness

to break down and be an outright liar

Cowardly, feverish, but ready

my truth will lay in wait in trenches of jowls

Let the world have it

when necessary

when commanded

until then

Fuck’em my shit is self evident

Manifest Destiny

The headphones drown out the cries of the hungry as the train rages on like a metallic dragon. She is pretty. The homeless chick. Her voice booms even with the music turned up in my ears, leading me to believe she is well practiced in this art.

Going Back

I am going back to her

to compare battle scars and sip

double dipped hot chocolate

To rekindle her light

I’m going back to her

yellow princess dresses

black boots, made for stomping

when she was all kinky tresses

To her questions, wonder, and guesses

To when she loved without  prejudice

before any man had come between us


no no no

all I hear is screams

the knife, bat, and gun

then the screaming comes

thrusts to the stomach


swung to the torso


shots ring out

bloodied finger tips

touching the wounds

he leans

slowly to the side

sighing his last

the nightmares God

make them stop

I want to see heaven

not the things

I’ve done



Life Is:

A mystery, Unfold it.

A journey, Walk it.

Painful, Endure it.

Beautiful, See it.

A joke, Laugh at it.

A song, Sing it.

A flower, Smell it.

Wonderful, Enjoy it.

A candle, Light it.

Precious, Don’t waste it.

A gift, Open it.

Love, Give it.

Unlimited, Go for it.

Light, Shine in it.

–Iyanla Vanzant

Past The Moons

he dreamed of a place
past the moons
and cuckolds of his heart
where he and his lady could bask
in the warped rhapsody of their love
a story told an untold times
mounted against him
So he waited
strangled by principle
he waited for the revolution
to scream aloud with his bloody fist
in the air, in the name of all he held dear
for the sins to be unearthed
to labor for his children
and die a warrior
He waited for danger
to kill and spite his country
a gladiator in another time with another her
If only she were aware of the way he’d
bare knuckled three armed guards outside
her bedroom window
or how he stayed up all night
tending the fires so that she’d never know cold
or loneliness
but it never came
It passed him over in every century
a philosopher a teacher an artist
a woman an apprentice a poet
a lawyer a father a nurse
a dancer a devil a leader and a criminal
all couldn’t break character
not even for an instant did he
dispel a silent oath for anarchy
He perished unfulfilled and unsung
for generations
wondering what he had done
why visions of valor never came to be
why he needed the fight
why he dreamed of this
lady’s beauty
every night


here’s to not dying today

woke up again

still pissed that the sun rose 

I’m just really really really

not a morning person.


if there was an option

to bury all morning people in a box

I’d do it

then carry on with my

miserable commute

haven’t lashed out at my mom lately

gotten into a fight

nope i am living 

good and boring

the way the Church intended

think about it

only exciting lives skirt around death

tempting to pants him

long life is a supposed sign of heavenly blessing

Church mandates state

you should keep your hands to yourself

quit messing with death

he’s secular and cantankerous

we don’t know who’s next

I’m vexed 

cause death’s party is poppin

the soul isn’t willing

& the flesh is already weak

i see the life i want to live

and know the risks

but without passion and pain

i don’t wish to wake up again.