The Collective Mic Writer’s Cafe: Piece Two
This one was written off a photograph by Carrie Mae Weems.
https://tse3.explicit.bing.net/th?id=OIP.L4pqRTmzbCFrk47JcrX9MAHaIq&pid=Api&P=0
People
Get confused
Because
Society
Likes to pretend
It's the mirror
But that mirror
Is wrong
So often
The world
Beset by bad luck
(Broken mirror y'all
follow me)
Would fall
Into chaos
Anarchy, even.
First of all
The black woman
Any woman!
Should never ask
Who's the finest
She should know
Intrinsically
Irrefutably
I'm the finest
Because looking for answers
Outside
Only invites ignorance
Jealousy
Greed
And LIES
The truth is
The simple truth is
EVERY woman is so FINE
If she comes into her own power
The question
Itself
Is an artifact
LET IT BE AN ARTIFACT
Acknowledge
That beauty
Equals humanity
And humanity
INHERENTLY
Is equal.
The Collective Mic Writer’s Cafe: Piece One
Written from two photographs by Deborah Willis
https://assets.mica.edu/files/modules/fernandez_exteriormockup.jpg
https://www.artnews.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/deb-willis.jpg?w=682
Embrace me
But exit
See
I built a wall
Over 20 feet tall
And still
You entered
But my insides
Dark and beautiful
You wanted to repaint
You grabbed your brush
And a shade of blue
Such a tranquil hue
But it was for you
I
Was at home
In my darkness
I
Can let the light in
And not
Have to reupholster
For anyone's comfort
Serenity
Emanates from me
The goddess
The queen
The life unseen
The strife I've seen
But triumphed over
That
Is the color
Of my soul
Black
Is the color
Of my soul
And I've been
Transplanted
Migrated
Uplifted?
Societally gifted...
But I
Reject
That life
That change
They tried to make
I embrace
Every mistake
As the birth of truth
And there's a ladder
Baby scaffolding
Dare to climb
And the truth will ring
We are beautiful
We
Who don't look like you
I
Who don't look like we
They
With lost identity
She
He
We
They
Them
US.
It always
And forever
Will be about us.
So.
How about
If you don't know
What I
Am talking about?
YOU migrate.
Writing (with errors)
I started writing
A glitch interrupted me
I lost
What I was going to say
How fragile
This mind
To have thoughts
Blown out like candles
To ride the wind
Like spores
That will never
Fertilize
Another mind
Wandering
Like my soul
This morning
A friend found me
Well
His words did
And they brought me back to life
Which was so surreal
As I hadn’t noticed
I was dying
But the blank page
Whispers live
Just as he shouts
“You’re alive!”
And I
Blankenstein’s monster
Charged
With the electric fire
Of new life
In my veins
Know with the certainty
Of a singed heart
I will do great things
After
I
get ready for work
Whine Tasting
I taste freedom
In the air today
Or is that loneliness?
I taste insult
With the undertone of injury
It's bitter
And unjustified
Well...
They justify it
But the mouth feel
Is unfairness.
And
Is that a note
Of jealousy,
Perhaps,
On the finish?
I taste space
Between words
It tastes coppery,
Metallic?
Like the blood
Of a bitten tongue
Because I want
To scream
You b!$@&
And instead
I pour
My whine
Into this poem
Don't pass me a drink
Leaning
I lean on the edges of this moment
Test their viscosity
Is this memory
Going to pop and dissipate
Effervescent
Will it blend into
The million other mornings
I listen to the breath
Of a slumbering child
The sounds of another
Preparing for school
Even as
My heart clenches
In understanding
Of the transience
Of my routine
Already halved
Compared to others
Who didn’t implode their families
Perhaps this moment
Will stand the test of time
When life has obfuscated
The rest of them
Perhaps
My aching heart
My dripping mind
Will pull this poem
Out of time
And I
Will
Remember
This one morning
I held on
Breathed deep
And surrendered
To what will be
For the sake
Of what is
Right now
Poetry in Pieces: Week 16 w/@ledlevee
Another installment of our weekly poetry project!
I’m lost in space,
an asteroid spiraling,
out of the race,
baggage is piling,
and I don’t know
when I’ll find my way,
return to the show,
have an extended stay.
Yet strength
Is building
As you navigate,
Your rebirth
Will be worth the wait
There’s world yet to see
That’s baggage free
A place I too, long to be.
But how do we get there?
Is the question.
And how do we breathe air
as we wait sequestered.
The future looms
in dark and shadow.
I look past the gloom
for an open window.
The answer
Is in the breeze
Caressing
The tips of trees
The barren branches
And
The sprouted blossoms
Alike
When all you can do
Is wait
Just breathe
When all you can do
Is breathe
Just wait
Patience
was never a strong suit
Of mine
when it comes to women
But I’m learning
And things I can’t control
I’m learning
To let go
And let the rivers flow
And try to enjoy
The midnight city’s glow
The sunrise city
Is expansive
A great time
And place
To grow
I ask myself
Am I?
I ask you
Am I?
You are
the sunrise city
and I am the sunset
and the glow of lights
I look for my sunrise
on the horizon
and imagine
a different sunrise
and a different horizon
Every morning
until I find home
The winter sunrise
Brings only an echo
Of warmth and light
A reminder
Of their existence
But reality
Remains cold
I am
The winter sunrise
Jealous
The glow of lights
Is always beautiful
At night
But the winter nights
Are cold and lonely
The lights may shine
Like will o the wisps
Luring lonely travelers
To the cold, wet swamp
I’m the darkness
In the icy night
Where shadows lurk
And nightmares dance
But maybe
I’m the nightmare
Dancing on your periphery
Not of this world
But in it
Casting unnatural shadows
To bring shade
Where there is only light
And wakefulness
To the endless night
Not of this world
But in it
Describes me to a tee
So maybe we’re both ghosts
Or shadows
Dancing in dreams
That can be nightmares
But perhaps
Could become good dreams
And lights
In the distant sunrise
Shadows dance
And ghosts rejoice
Zombies dream
And angels have nightmares
The sun rises again
I am in the same place
As when it set
Am I happy in this space?
I am not mad
Change is hard
Life is harder
When life is easier
Will I change?
Stagnation is hard
I long for movement
For the gift
Of improvisation
The freedom
To live on my own terms
The freedom
To die on my own terms
If only I knew
What those terms were
Defining terms
Is how you break
From stagnation
So much imagination
Yet your vision
Remains clouded
Caught in the web
Of society’s
Rights and wrongs
We are the artists
We write the songs
Sing your terms
Free yourself
Free me
All in a Day’s Work
The stench rose
Thick and swift
Choking the senses
Stinging the eyes
So that tears
Betrayed
Even the strongest of us
The ring
Around the bathtub
Once tinged brownish-black
With dirt and grime
Now shone reddish-brown
The color of crime
Sweeping emotion aside
I engaged my analytical brain
Surveying the scene
Memorizing every stain
The protrusion of her heart
Right through her chest
With nary a severed vein
Was there evidence
In the candy wrapper
Crumped on the bathroom floor
Housing half a bar of chocolate
Filled as it was
With ants
Come to dine
On the bounty of tragedy
Was there motive
In the sheen of oil
Atop the bloodied water
Or proof only
Of a bubbly bath
Some 5-6 days ago
While months from now
I will be celebrated
For apprehending a murderer
Closing another case
These images
Will haunt my mind
Forever
Still
I love my job
Though sometimes
I chase it with whiskey
DisQuiet
The quiet
Is profound
More than brevity
A temporary cessation of sound
The quiet is forever
And that's why
A thousands swords
Would hurt less
I know
That nothing is forever
I KNOW THAT
But knowledge
Is
so
quiet.
Poetry in Pieces: Week Fourteen w/@ledlevee
Another installment of the Poetry in Pieces series, a responsive work w/@ledlevee. See prior pieces for the full explanation. ^_^
I search my mind
For a place to start
For that shining womb
That creates new art
And everything
Starts pouring out
I forget about
The fear and doubt
And I find a rainbow
Imagination’s glow
Glow with me
Shine with me
Spin with me
Dine with me
Words are my rainbow
Livening the sky
For now I can live
Without asking why
Run with me
Fly with me
Laugh with me
Cry with me
Words are my sunrise
Scaring away the dark
Now I can breathe
Let’s leave our marks
I brave the grind
And inject my heart
Straight into the doldrum
There, now it’s art
The art of a life
With creativity
On standby
Are my wings clipped
Or can I still fly
I finish the grind
The end of a doldrum day
A week of code and bytes
I’m ready for a holiday
I’m looking for light
That ignites the heart
The fire and ecstasy
Of poetry and art
Did you notice
How glitter graces
The floor
Gravity
Does not defy logic
But
Creativity does
I fly with ease
When the weight
Of my mood
My empty plate
Sometimes
Is far too great
And heavy things
Aren’t supposed to fly
But the words we cry
give me wings
And for a weekend
I escaped the grind
Leaving all
My worries behind
Parked them
In three garages
Thank you for that
And with wings of freedom
I escaped the nightmare
For a couple of days
No problems or cares
Other than figuring out how
To find the next adventure
Living in the here and now
In a carefree dream
Monday hit like a hammer
But I was light on my feet
Dodging the bullets
Melting concrete
Which tried to encase me
My thinking
Too fluid
My movements too quick
Here’s hoping my thoughts
Don’t start to stick
Monday came at me
full force like a freight train
but I was rejuvenated and ready
to take on a busy day
after a weekend in the big city
with the best company I could have had,
and today ended
with me laughing with my three year old,
listening to music with my five year old,
cuddling with my seven year old,
and tucking my nine year old in,
kissing her goodnight,
and finding meaning for a day.
2023 came so quickly
I blinked and the year was gone
It did it’s damage
I am crippled
And humbled
In its wake
But I soldier on
For the kids’ sake
And start this year
With a hopeful
And grateful
Heart
I’m trying my best,
somehow made it alive
through a year of pain,
but somehow survived;
the kids are my life support
but I wish I could thrive,
my hope is dwindling
for no matter how I strive,
it seems all options lead to failure,
all paths lead to danger,
all roads are empty
save for shadows and strangers.
Shadows hide truths
And strangers
May become friends
Teachers
Or lovers
An empty road
Is devoid of roadblocks
And danger
Is the warning light
On the dashboard
Of life
Our paths have converged
For the time being
Let’s live a little
Shall we?
Poetry in Pieces: Week Five with @Roses311Sublime
I went through a bit of a rough patch so I wasn't writing my daily verses. Finally got caught up though and I'm hoping I'm back on track for a while! Here is the fifth installment of the poetry over time project where @Roses311Sublime and I write responsive verses once a day (except sometimes the days aren't consecutive) until we have seven days worth of poetry.
Feeling satiated after enjoying an anime convention with my family these past two days.
Spent some much needed time with my wife, kids, and our close family friend.
Met voice actors, bought new reading material, observed lots of great art, made wonderful memories.
Now is the perfect time to make some art of my own, and hopefully inspire someone else.
Just like the artists this weekend that inspired me.
Yet despite feeling good, I'm also so tired, and not ready for the return to the work grind.
But it must be done, and creativity must win out, including at work.
So I will work on consistently writing these verses this week.
Looking forward to getting inspired by your words.... thank you my friend.
The cold has teeth this morning
Grateful for my coat
I love to hear about your life
And that it’s not all rote
My time I spend meeting ends
But save some special moments
To cherish family and friends
Before time passes me by
At times I wish I didn't have to work for so much of my life.
Yet it does make those special moments you speak of more precious.
It is good to work, and make a difference in the lives you serve.
What we learn at work, can make us better for our families and friends.
I need to improve at managing and balancing my time, and not using fatigue as an excuse.
Here's to another day to work at it.... I won't give up trying.
Time management is my fatal flaw
I never can seem to do it all
But when it feels too overbearing
I steal a moment to myself
Set my work up on the shelf
Prioritize my mental health
Read, write, draw or play
And that moment can’t be taken away
Making time for your self is essential, not selfish.
We get one guarantee in life, and that is getting to spend your whole life with yourself.
So building yourself up, and growing to love the person you are matters so much.
The better we are to ourselves, the better we will be to others.
So making your mental health and art a priority, is an excellent investment.
I love present me more than I loved myself in the past.
And if I put the work in, future me will love himself more than present me.
I love that life’s journey
Has brought me to you
And writing the verses that we do
I know the style’s all over the place
And the poem has an unsteady pace
But there are diamonds in this rough
And for me that’s more than enough
I couldn't agree with you more.
And I can't wait to see what is in store.
Getting to write with you is a wonderful gift.
Collaborating on these poems gives me such a lift.
I appreciate this adventure, and now I turn it over to you.
Can't wait to see what you write next, I enjoy the work that you do!
Turning over what I find
On the southernmost shore
Of my easternmost mind
I marvel at all that’s underneath
The gracefulness of truth
The eternity of peace
The healing power of love
The universe in a crease
The mind can be a scary place to traverse.
Yet it's one of the most important journeys we'll ever take.
If we can overcame the temptations, doubts, and fears,
We can become unstoppable.
Our thought life can be our best friend, or our worst enemy.
I choose to use my mind to be beneficial, and hopefully inspire others.
I will soak in the inspiration that so many amazing artists fill the world with, yourself included.
As long as I have it, I want to do good with my mind.
I need to keep cultivating it, growing and learning.
Intention is half the battle
The other half
Is action
I admonish myself
For not allowing
My actions
To follow my intention
I want those who feel cold
To find warmth
I want to make the world better.
And I know I can do more than I am.
But I think it is ok to start small.
Work on my attitude.... my patience.
Practice being kinder to others.
Especially those that aren't kind to me.
I still need and want to do more for others.
But this is a good place to start.
Starting small
Is a great place to start
I want to live
A little smaller
With my heart
A little bigger
Today
Is a great place to start
Your reminder to start small couldn't have come at a better time.
I want to enjoy the holidays, crush reading goals, wrap up the writing of some fantasy story arcs, be a better husband and family man, be a better representative for my faith.
Yet I feel so overwhelmed, so tired, so unsure of what to do first.
But if I focus on some small steps to get back on track, that will inch me closer to the finish line of my goals.
And the discipline I will learn, will help me in the next race.
It’s important
To give ourselves
The time we need
Exhaustion
And overwhelm
Are signals
We need to slow down
Even if only a moment
Hope this New Year
Finds you renewed
I look forward
To sharing more
Writing with you