If we should fall, tell the world of our exploits,
the pain in our hearts, and how for so long we survived the dark nights.
Tell them of what we’ve endured here,
the tears, the weeping, for so many years.
Tell them that we’ve loved and have been loved,
but by the third season our hearts were shattered
and the remnants of our loving hearts, scattered.
Tell them of the injustice we have endured here, and of our martyrs.
Tell them of the blood that runs every summer
and the crying voices that hope to conquer;
Tell them of the beauty of our mothers
and the quiet strength of our fathers.
Tell them that we weep and suffer,
but somehow we still survive the coldest winters.
Tell them that twelve judge us with prejudice,
and the color of our skin condemns us.
Tell them of apathetic eyes that watch us with hatred and bias
and the system set up to destroy us.
Tell them of our ancestors who came over on ships
to be enslaved for generations—
In tears, raped, separated and whipped.
Tell them that, at our breaking point we didn’t give a shit,
and we were not afraid of death in our final moments.
Tell them that their bullshit sentiments are meaningless
and they walk around as empty husks, soulless.
Tell them that we gave it everything we had,
and faced our fates with tears of resolve—and boldness.
Tag: poem
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You hold the pieces of my heart in your hands
and before the world, you cruelly display me.
The looks, the rumors, and the whispers—
come from people we know mutually.
My soul holds onto the love,
the nights of intimacy, and all that used to be;
I curse myself under my breath,
for my own foolish heart betrays me.
I blow kisses to your pictures,
and again, I am at your mercy. -
A diamond sun shines its light on a fuchsia river
flowing flawlessly infused with pixie dust
and ghosts of kings past, with golden chariots.
The stars connect and form a mighty circle,
crowning the earth, for the giving of herself,
and for the miracles of her birth.
Joyous tears of archangels fall, causing
fallen trees to be resurrected and restored tall.
The crippled, and elderly near death, get up and walk.
Fetuses in their amniotic sacs begin to talk.
Mothers of slain sons cry no more,
for they see them in celestial bodies,
adorned in white, with golden crowns at heaven’s door.
The blood of the innocent are recompensed,
and evil doers are tried and sentenced;
The North Star is recognized because she is a guide,
and heard the wailing of many slaves
that fled on the nights she gave her light.
Terminally ill children, grow white wings
and begin to beautifully sing of their healing;
The blind regain their sight. -
She freed herself, letting her soul take flight;
Uninhibitedly, she danced,
Moving gracefully in the twilight. -
In light we are reborn, equipped with a crown and sword.
The banners that we wave — passionately worn.
We go out in the night and conquer the storm;
Our scepters laid upon our thrones,
Waiting to be held in mighty hands which rings adorn.
Enemies seek to slay us, and make us the no more;
But their hearts fail them and decimate their resolve.
Their blood soaks the bottom edges of the king’s robe,
over armor that drags on the vast halls of white marble floors.
Once we were reviled and scorned,
But now we are venerated and adored. -
In intense release, sensual sounds move through walls,
and the body is taken over by pleasure, in waves of euphoric shudders.
In those enraptured moments, nothing else matters;
Intimate words are uttered in whispers, and eager lips find each other.
Dedicated tongues induce uncontrollable screams;
The control of steady rhythms flow like violet rivers,
Under a bright crystal sun in lucid dreams.
It is more than just a frenzied session;
It is the building of refined ecstasy in slow progression.
After several positions, there are four words whispered before explosion.
Silence falls — and the mind records from the tryst what it wants;
In the immediate after, the sensual rapture is vividly recalled. -
Weary and tormented with nothing left to give,
her tears fell on the letter that she neatly folded;
and in that cold room she sat listlessly
closing her eyes after the tears dried,
and she fell asleep for a little while,
awakening to the same thing that for so long she had been fighting;
and to get up, she placed her hand on a worn nightstand,
revealing the many scars on her skin under dim lighting.
And the tears came again, from tired eyes
that were closed so many times in endless praying.
In her frailty, she held onto an unstable cold railing,
in a torn nightgown, walking down the steps to the kitchen;
in tears, she started off with faint words in her whispering—
but then she kept screaming,
all I want to do is live again. -
A beautiful whisper
A seductive touch
A passionate gaze
Then midnight rush.
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The shattered pieces of me remain behind and unswept,
Still strewn on the floor where my eyes first wept.
I awake, still broken, wanting to be whole again,
Hoping that my soul will finally mend.
The sorrow of my heart seems to never end.
I keep falling — but not in love again;
I just keep falling,
Like raindrops
Without end. -
You took my once cold heart
And gently wrapped it in your warmth
I had lost faith in love
Because I had been hurt
But you became my saving grace
And I learned to once again embrace
True intimacy
When I began to touch your face
And then the tears streamed
And my soul screamed
As I released emotions from a place
I didn’t know I had within me
Then held you in my embrace
And it was then you told me
What you saw in me
And we wept together
While my spirit poured out
All the love that I had in me
And then I lovingly
Whispered three words to you
In sincerity
Intimate Compositions 