Future Selves

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Strung, as crystalline beads
On a fine gold thread
Our days
One by one together
We charted a more kind pattern
Planned

Colors, something beautiful
All our own
To be complete
Tied with an unbreakable knot
This time
Worn boldly and proud

But for the masked marauder
Disguised as difficult conversation
Arriving in broad daylight
Ripping this treasure from us
A new family heirloom
We’d have created

Moment Lovers

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Step one, get weird with it. This belongs to you all, after all.

Step two, present yourselves all ways, every day, at the same time.

Step five, step five?! Yes, step five — there’s nothing linear or logical of this.

Step five, show the canvas of man what these years of kinship mean.

Step six, dip your brush in cool, cool water, then choose the color violet. Or orchid, because you are bold, or you want to be.

Step three, make a space in advance, or in the moment, or not at all. The whole Earth was prepared for you.

Step four, never end before you’ve finished, or for forever, whichever comes first. Last.

Step seven, relay your love for The All of them. Take responsibility and fight again tomorrow with the sunrise.

Nana

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If there be a legacy
Decidedly mine will be
Silver not white, though all it’s worth
Afro-bold, in spirit, for, I’ll keep good company

Down with brushing shifting shoulders at all times, Day or Night
Upswept, if it serves a proper purpose

Shouts The Story everyday

If thinning it becomes in my end days
May it be that others gathered to pass on the baton
Queens that came before me, know this: You did your job

Movement

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I love that he answered the call
Hung up a shingle, of sorts
And waits bold in the Capitol street-front picture window at 8:52am
To tell us it’s never too late
But it’s time 

of steel

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There
Bury me there
I’ll make a grand wish
I’ll take my last breathe
Before
I’ll take off the cape
I’ll have no regrets
Then
I’ll boldly look
I’ll demurely touch 
Heaven
There