Posts for poetry

to be treated like a lady, act like one. especially if you prefer a gentleman. blossom, as a tulip, or orchid. silence, softness, beauty, precision – these, are what hold power, oh you delicate flower.. It is time to grow.   #rulesOfTheGame  

I can grow so empty that I become full, And am so lost, but know right where to go. I will run fast, but while walkin slow, And everyday; a solemn road. This year spring will come, flowers, beauty, sun. In cold, birds do fly, chase sun and sky. South I wish yet West I […]

Dear city, your sidewalk benches. where the weary rest feet. oh the streets when we’re tired. (she’s so HEAVY) (dont be weak) and woman, woe man, we beaten down. beatin it. beat up. beatin round bushes. we are burning. (we got fire) (let it shine) (spark) ~this light of mine, it ain’t little~ divide division, […]

Discharge, ignite, blast, Combusting reactions subside. The story is same as the past, Our seeds grow, live, and die. I’ve always burned bridges in war, Grounded but heart in the sky. The story is same as before, I love you but now we are wise. Crumble at once as we fall, Our ruins have become great […]

To write. To suffer. To relieve. To focus. To complete. To care. James Baldwin: “Something that irritates you and won’t let you go. That’s the anguish of it. Do this book, or die. You have to go through that. Talent is insignificant. I know a lot of talented ruins. Beyond talent lie all the usual […]

it’s been a hell of a year for shorty. simultaneously the best and worst year ever. I’m glad it’s over, sort of shocked I survived it, and ready to write about it. it started around, well I guess the new year always begins at midnight, right? Mountain Standard Time. so, I’m backstage at Boombox, dancing in this […]

A few years ago, I shared my poetry on the radio. I’m hoping to do another show this fall with my new work. As time passes, I write more rhythmically, less abstractly, and the subject matter changes. from the style and rhetoric of transcendentalism, and literary prose, to hip hop and urban decay, what i […]

the artist danced with me; impromptu. at the close of day. i said, tell me what you know: “i use my imagination for better things than fear now” he, eloquent, and i, wandering heard :::everything.::: lull~abye birds, wind, exhale, fluttering, fleeting, beating, heart. & believed, finally. that, even i, was, could be. a flower in God’s […]

(it has got to be one of the most fascinating times in history to be a poet.) “Guns shoot stars into the/sky, the storm of constellations night after night, the infinite/night rages on.” -Afgha Shahid Ali, The Country Without a Post Office:The Blessed Word: A Prologue… There’s a song every year when birds pass. Slowly […]