Tag Archives: Poetry

i don’t (episode 2: a breakout series)

i don’t take risks anymore, i don’t sink my hands into the welcoming grit of moistened ground, i hope to be stopped by gold at my feet, afraid of dirty though my face is read, and my veins have blown, … Continue reading

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An Ode to Poem-A-Day

i leave already read poems in my inbox. eye them as treasures, Jacks-in-the-box I know will tickle the child inside that cries. how they stay there, dusty with neglect, and how they glow with the quality to hold on hand … Continue reading

Posted in absence, black art, diary, family, nostalgia, poetry, true life | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

“I don’t know”

I know the truth, on the hazy summer days when heat squeezes the odour out of breeze caught flowers, sweaty inner thighs, and chlorine pools. I know the truth of the sky in mid-turn, mid-hack in a cloudless space, dazed … Continue reading

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emotions as they sea(m)

before writing, the heart must bear the slowness of a wave’s crest as it laps the grainy shore, a confident arrival to the uncertainty of myriad minute minerals who’ve built homes on top around beneath behind each other, prepared to … Continue reading

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Metamorphosis

When dawn breaks over the horizon of your body’s surface, let your soul succumb to music played by pleasured souls. Give cold away to age old warmths and for once take in and trust whispered promises and when midnight settles … Continue reading

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Written Approval

you can use my body as an Etch-a-Sketch and draw unto me your beliefs in black and white your marvelous frown of concentration moves me and I swear, I could drown in the crease of your brow and although this … Continue reading

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a force to be reckoned with

i did not write today my arms, at rest, turned desire into a charlatan because i am a mother who believes in moderation, and the artist in me is a child. gazes as glints of buildings and the lustre of … Continue reading

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