The Voodoo you do

Marie Laveau. 
Is that you? 
Teach me. Taunt me. 
The Voodoo you do. 

Queen of Dark Arts 
You reign supreme. 
How shall we wake our 
Folk from this dream.

Living nightmare they 
Know not who they are. 
Their power fastly fading 
Like that of falling stars.

oh say can u see me

i wont go silently like
lambs before slaughter
nor gentle into that
good night

i won't whisper my
disdain for complicated
things devaluing the
simple life

i wont tax myself with fear
blacklisted by gossips ear
sissifying my fight for equal
human rights

for he who seeks to shame
knows not honors gain
pursuant of justice and
God’s delight

while brothers bought and sold
weep with broken souls like
wingless eagles
attempting flight

baring my soul in warrior mode
intellect and bullets unite on
congress’ bloody carpeted floor the final
end of historical strife.

by the dawn’s early light.

we are

We pain
We change
We love
We lose
We hope
We despair
We laugh
We share
We argue
We fight
We break
We bite
We kick
We scream
We shit
We dream

We suffer
We cringe
We clean
We mend
We search
We find
We live
We shine
We carry
We score
We cry
We war
We bury
We waste
We fuck
We taste


We tax
We spend
We lie
We pretend
We recover
We recite
We pledge
We unite
We bully
We bleed
We bruise
We lead
We pick
We choose
We drink
We abuse

We wonder
We take
From slumber
We wake
Over time
We realize
We're out
Our minds
We haste
To replace
The friend
We disgraced
So jealous
We are
The competition
Selfie star.

work 2 do

still (61715)

I still remain friends with those chosen few
The ones I let my guard down with
Walked around naked sharing my body and heart
The ones who intrigued my mind and made me smile
And cry sometimes at the same time

The ones who found my humor whimsical or at least
Tolerable to the point of not damaging my ego
The ones who dealt with my random taste in music
As well as my random mood swings, like a kid-
Unpredictable

But never was there a question of my love, my passion-
My desire to hold and be held and be one from first
Blush to last kiss goodbye. My eyes did wander at
Times and once I did find myself in the bed of another but
I blame no one but myself.

Emotions have a language and understanding of their own
Like finding a tortoise with two heads in some dark woodland bog
It is strangely familiar in appearance but foreign in understanding
I still don’t understand the rage and craze of my ways but
I’m always sincere

So here I sit going through his box of love letters and old photographs
And keepsakes from lovers past replaying scenes in my mind-
Front row seat to my insanity but I imagine it’s sadly similar to
Many who search and live and seek something real using only our
Instincts and heart to lead the way

Ending up lost amidst break-ups and maybes, maybe I should have
Gone with that one instead of this one maybe I shouldn't have
Been so selective using artificial standards that i don't  meet
Maybe I should have just followed the wind breezing by
Like a kite carefree and soaring in life’s sky.

I still talk to plants, I still love Prince, I still keep goldfish and I still keep the memory of our first kiss. Still. I love
You.

What is Love?

staywoke

writer dreamer lover poet

as a
writer a
dreamer a
lover a
poet
i oft wonder if it were my
life’s purpose to
live in discourse in the
most correct way

foreign from the
typical routine others
enslave themselves to
committed to living from
paycheck to pay back and
monetary necessities

for i treat dollars with the same
despise some mother-in-laws
shade towards those not
worth the fruit of her labor

even at the bottom
mind aching with
regrets i still find love
feeling the warm
sun upon my face the
cool wetness of rain the
awe inspiring joy that singing birds bring
not a sad song but one filled with
green melodic cadences

what is the color of freedom
certainly not the
darkness behind
closed tired eyes and calloused hands
missing mesmerizing moments and miracles
occurring naturally around this

orbiting sphere who’s
center must certainly be
caring and generous enough to
sustain constant consistent
lack of appreciation and gratitude
side effects of hate greed corruption and fear

perchance the color of freedom is love
bravely loving enough to
unplug from the reddening madness of
routine and predictability and comfortable conformity and
live passionately as a
writer a
dreamer a
lover a
poet

His

He makes me wanna dance on my tippy toes
A pirouette or something silly ballet dancers do
I wanna be his nut cracker I wanna smell his shoes
I wanna be his everything I wanna be faithful

I caught a falling star I found my pot of gold
He is everything I wished and hoped for
The four leaf clover for my soul

I’m on a mountain as high as the clouds
I’ve kissed an angel I can’t find my way down
I’ve forgotten every pain I’ve ever felt
Every lover that ever left

I wanna be his water the rain that cleanse his soul
I wanna be the whisper in his ear
I wanna be his wings as we soar through the air

I wanna be the beauty that beams from his face
I wanna sleep beside him until our very last breath
I wanna be in his arms forever.