The Breeze

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Can one celebrate motion
and yet champion calm
Can one take 
and yet still honor love

And yes, speaking of love
how does one take their tea
Black as eve’ 
or with honey, my love

her own poem

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He was always his own
On loan
And less of a rock than a stone

She these reasons unknown
Bemoaned
Existing on scraps and on bones

Now with learned heart grown
Wounds sewn
She lives in the no-holds-barred zone

Feck

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You never have to say you love me
Or think ahead to hold the door 
You never have to buy me blossoms
Or sweep me ‘cross the dancehall floor 

The information you must give me 
In your secret, rhythmic rhyme
I’ll wait at home plate, send it searing
In your signature hang time 

Provision

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Living breathing poetry
Are people can’t you see
And at day’s end, the prose and skin of souls 
Is my Goodread 

Thus daylong I do gather
Good will, good faith, good fight 
For provision to warm me
As I walk the cold, harsh Night

Lexicon Rebel

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There isn’t the wise heart 
Inside this frame
Able to end Something
With correct words and proper punctuation 

What grammar class rebel
With words for the dispose
Doesn’t know the greatest way
To say goodbye is with the first kiss;

Failing

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The cut has come on strong as I am strong
The red flows more fast than I am fast
The inhale cannot pace with the exhale
The color fades too far into the pale 
The heart don’t yet know what it ought know

Mama Super

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Where I find my trouble
At this time of the Day
Wanting my bones to matter
To someone’s outstretched hand

Then oft’ times if there’s time
Throughout the Dayiong dance
Comes the wish to walk it off
In most unorthodox shoes 

When I pour the Day’s last tea
The mild then seems hard 
But as the lights come off I speak
Unnecessarily aloud, I did that