the inner mystery

it’s coming
hold on
i’ve come too far
like butterflies bursting from cocoons
sweet buttery pound cake from hot oven
i think i’m ready

cliff covered mountains or
valium filled valleys
it don’t matter
not when you have wings and
believe you can fly
angels and demons

evil doers and non well wishers
appear like
thorns beneath the prettiest rose whose
fragrance lure like
sirens off distant shores
garden sheers

i no longer fear fear
mislead into a strange bed
driving past dead ends
no u turns or new friends
rain is inevitable when in doubt
umbrellas

this fella’s destiny he does not know
but unconquerable belief is
destined to bring him close
to what most spend a life time in search of
what is this thing called love

grace

a closet is not a home

they paid me a visit again last night
tears and loneliness
is there something i’m doing wrong
i don’t recall leaving the light on

relationships
affairs of the heart; my heart
i’m beginning to no longer trust
emotions and feelings

trust nothing with a pulse
trust no one with a speaking
tongue or ears that won’t
listen and a heart incapable of love

bitter becomes the man searching for
black love in a white town where the few who
favor you knocks you down with ad titles that
read blk lookin 4 wht or white only please

lonely is the only roasted bean in the
starbucks on oleander street
with no place to go where dark
smiles know your truthful solitude

unrestrained by synthetic mental
closets that hide nothing more than an
illusion of shame and scented mothballs and
jeans that no longer fit

the maternal bond and youngest son’s
duty to his aging mother will soon be
not enough to keep me here in a
house that will never become a home