Wanting
wanting to mend
that’s all I have at the end of the day
digging a dent
into my side of the bed
wanting to want to
but never leaving
love poems
Run
If we chained our hearts to one another
the way overseers roped slaves
would we love or run
Everywhere
in the eyes that stare
in the crisp air
in a stranger’s hair
the way he sits in a chair
in my reverie
lurking
i see you everywhere
Left Pocket
My heart le into his left pocket
a d
p e
t l
onto the floor w
and cra
Letters To A Stranger
Come in
Tell me of your trip
of memories gained
pictures taken
food eaten
Tell me of curries and roads I can’t pronounce
gates swinging
of your father’s stare
when he realized how much you look like him now
Tell me about mountains and city-scapes
hungry faces
yellow eyes and green irises
About your dream girl just there
Come in quick
Did his eyes swell with pride
or a glint of selfishness
wishing he was young again, undoing certain choices
Tell me about the train you missed
the mists over fields
the mansions and shacks
how the words jumbled around in your mouth before
now familiar
just easing out
Tell me of oceans
and time zones
animals
Speak to me until we are no longer strangers
but kin
establishing a reconnection
Do the men where you come from sway when they talk
Do the women where you come from shuffle their feet as they walk
and even though the stars are the same
if you tell me
that you laid there
under their luminous glow, wishing
I will know they must’ve been brighter than any stars
I have ever known
Come Back
watching you leave is like burning an angels wings
bring water to the scorched place
where hope springs
Come back,
I think you forgot a kiss
your heart
your charger, glasses, burdens, house keys, phone,
head,
a lighter
a back rub
a hug
a plate of food
an embrace and a song
wrap it up in your pocket for later
when the out there slams your wrists
backs you into a corner
pilfering your happiness
Unfold what i have held for you
just like this
dab a little on your lips like sunshine
and let it soak in
remembering your space in here
where all the things you lay to rest
live.
–Ciane The Knight
You Read Me
theawards.co/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/OscarDelmar12.jpg
you read me
like an open book, plainly
so playfully
i shrug it off
summarize all my lines
you see me clearly
like prescription glasses
you compliment me
though we’re hardly ever in sync
even on pizza toppings we disagree
yet
you will always fight for me
so put down your fists
i will be your gift, shield, and armor
My Baby
my baby’s got an off color way about things
he don’t like people
or festivals or parades
or house parties or prisons for that matter
he’s got a look that’d turn you to stone if you let it
but if oceans were dark brown ‘stead of blue
they’d be his eyes
he’d swallow whiskey before water
but that mouth can form the sweetest words ever said
and I love him from the crust between his toes
to the top of his head
we’so tight
that I can tell when he changes his mind about his favorite color
or uses different soap
when he loses hope
if he’s broke without needin’ healing
if he’s hurt but wantin’ fixing
when he bleeds
what he dreams
but most importantly, if i’m what he needs
and if I should let him go
Shugar,
ain’t that love?
The Profile On The Pillow
After our fierce loving
in the brief time we found to be together,
you lay in the half light
exhausted, rich,
with your face turned sideways on the pillow
and I traced the exquisite
line of your profile, dark against the white,
delicate and lovely as a child’s.
Perhaps
you will cease to love me.
or we may be consumed in the holocaust,
but I keep, against the ice and the fire,
the memory of your profile on the pillow.
–Dudley Randall
Marrow Of My Bone
Fondle me
caress
and cradle
me
with your lips
withdraw
the nectar from
me
teach me there
is
someone
–Mari Evans
The Poetry Corner 