who loves me?

who knows…

who knows himself.

who loves

who would leave.

who might?

who needs to be better.

who can tell in this world,

who loves me.

who trusts…

who trusts himself?


who lives in maybes

who regrets this.

who is who is.

who can blame her?

who can. 

who did.

who didn’t?

who wants more?

who always wants more than this.

who can blame him? 

who wants to love harder.

who hurts?

who is hurting.

who has bled.

who sees red. 

who doesn’t see me. 

who, are you…

who, where are you?!

who knew i could beg

who knew

who knew himself.

who loved me. 

who left.

who could blame her. 

who did. 


The Color Question

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I wonder what color the trees would be if they weren’t green

Maybe they’d envy the sky and be blue

What if I weren’t brown

What if my melanin morphed into red hot like a corvette red

Give adequate reason to associate me with the colors of devils

Justify why I have been outcast amongst civilized people

So when I disrespect my mother

& cock guns to unload clips at my brother

Just call it the devil painted  embedded into the cells of my skin inbreed into future generations

That way you can explain

Sloppy attitudes towards education and infidelity  displayed in fiction

Just say red people are born that way they follow Lucifer its true look at the stance

Too proud for any man and those hands Gifted for music

A tool that the Fallen Angel used to sway the masses


Symbolizing the millions of gallons of a blood shed of a people in constant struggle

We fight monarchy democracy colonization

only the evil bite the hands that feeds you

Imagine the initiator of this secular epidermis raising his hand to God among saint and angels brimming with the purest color there is

But having the life knocked out of him as he crashed to the ground he fermented this

Planet with the people the color of death brown

So that is the rationale behind the apartheid and mass genocide in Africa

That is why our attempts to govern ourselves fails

And the freedom of trafficked humans in the forgotten countries on a black continent

isn’t announced on an international scale


The color of demons and whores

That’s why thousands of black men deserved to be strung up by their necks

& women sexually exploited for centuries dignity torn from between their legs

Then I could understand if I weren’t brown

Perpetrating in this skin that reflects the dirt within

You red like burnt apple cinnamon

Nah I’m red like a crimson letter stitched to our dress big bold and obvious

Like yellow stars watched by Gestapo

Fully clothed in villainous costumes we were born standing in the public square

 Waiting for the pale heroes to smite us with heavy blows

We all know our color makes us easy targets
how about we vote on another color

Pink is too close to red, purple yellow orange reminds me of something like lemon/cool-aid & I don’t know about you but I don’t want to be known as

the sugary artificial dye #4 people

So how about we name ourselves a color that properly represents the flesh bone and soul

The question was so perplexing that I had to go on a search and look for the definition


Brown is a natural down to earth neutral

Found in earth wood and stone

Represents wholesomeness steadfast simplicity

Convey a simple feeling of warmth love & honesty

Then it went onto list synonyms

Chocolate tan mahogany oak

Hazel bronze sienna toast

I decided you could call me whatever you please

Because brown looks pretty fucking good on me

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© Perception 2011,  Ariama Long

Am I

I haven’t penned. even now i miss poetry.

the need, its solace, the release.

Where did it go. is a poet’s pen whose has not known paper still a poet

Am I?

Taste The Rainbow

I’ve always wanted to taste the rainbow

listen to the wind

know what men are thinking

cure my skin problem with those around me

drink a little bit

Learn to jump double dutch

to trust that first leap of a heartbeat when he speaks

hate deeply

truly master an art

to fold towels properly

to listen again

Wax something

Grow something

Write the word write, right, and rite in a sentence

Hold onto secrets and let go of others

Figure out why line breakers and punctuation should be important in poetry

and then blissfullynotcare

Find something I can’t live without

someone I can’t live without


I haven’t been embarrassed in a while so I’m probably due

In the meantime, that’s just some stuff I wanted to do.

Are You There

rejectionDeep inside are you there

looking back at me

What are you thinking

Who the hell are you

Where’d you go

Do you know you

Yes or no

Do you want to know me

Does that make me special or convenient

What do you want with yourself

Who are you fighting

Are you lying

Why would you lie

Do you not know what special means

Deep inside I have no reason to hide

so why cry

Are you here with me

or are you there