Bees

This is a poem from my sophomore book “When Nature Speaks.” I hope you enjoy. Please leave comments and/or questions.

 

I heard a bee buzz

and for the first time I refused to duck or dodge

I found that it was

it is

it will

communicate to those

to them

that are inclined to hear

to embrace its purpose

to acknowledge its feelings

saddened by every swat

which has become common

more intense chemicals created

with no regard to the gift of hearty

and healthy honey

so yes they groan

they moan

til morn

and mourn

our hypocrisy

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Things

I admire the courage of minimalist
for it takes lots of stuff to live with minimal
and at the apex
at the pinnacle
our lives are collections of things accumulated
wearing price tags that read “priceless”
and while we claim that our lives are more than things
our purchases and emotions are inextricably paired
we hoard our emotions and things unaware
until we have accumulated piles
starring in reality shows
and paying an outsider to clean up after us

Back of the Room

a little girl posts up in the back of the room,
but calls it the front in her mind
other kids won’t mind
because her hue is scary
even scared me
in dark places
where evil kin left traces

dirt roads
exposed
things of which I am now predisposed
even my own
just in case
in cased minds
decline
further assistance

week two
Dear child please
believe
we’re all weak too
weak to
thoughts against self worth
and for what it’s worth
better days
will change your ways
and you will forget that you are still in the back of the room

untitled

listening to the fireworks
thinking of souls scorched because the fire works
my own hand and arm symbolic of how the fire works
teeth gnashing because the fire works
only a few laborers signed up to do work

the job is to make the road less traveled
to expose the sweets on the ginger bread house
as leading causes of tooth decay
to sway
persuade
turn the tide this way
the way
the truth

us with melanin
have had truth meddled in
by equals less the power of altering
adding
subtracting
and the order of operations
rearranged by those mal-practicing
opening doors to infinite philosophies

making elections sure has never been more important
defending truth tried by fire
a reminder that the fire works
and the fire hurts
my soul hurts
because i know the soul’s worth

Cashmere and Licorice 

My brief sabbatical is because I published my first book of poetry. There are 50 poems inside, one of which is “Cashmere and Licorice,” also the title of the book. I am thankful for every like, comment, and encouraging word that ultimately gave me the desire to just jump. It’s available on Amazon! Peace and blessings!

trace

Love,
to the naked eye
left the world
left traces
only in hurting places
where material was at a deficit
where third world
was the first to know
the second
of the departure

no one listened
no one heard
nor respected the voices
their class
caste
and deemed
them untouchable
unlovable
yet they felt
they sensed
the digression,
ascension,
and wept sorely
til tear ducts
went bankrupt
and faith is depleted

the bitter cup
of pessimism
cast shadows
and love was resurrected unaware
without a trace

Trace

dreams

Spoke dreams not tangible to a place that I could touch

but called crazy

when my name was tough to say

and I answered

and I invited anxiety in

made scrumpets 

poured chamomile 

while being talked 

back to safety

convinced 

to never utter 

dreams

to never reach,

expect,

or believe

I obeyed

by flooding my sight

and my site 

with images 

of dreams not tangible

to a place I could touch

until I can feel them

beautiful explosion

oracles told
of dark bodies stripped of clothes
led away in chains
against their will

there will
be recompense
and present tense
updates
remain relevant

real regiments
resonate
through slave quarters
the pestilence
resonates through generations

conduits
seraphic
rapturous
rapture minds
up from
up to
return from
return to
ignite flames of revolution
and it is beautiful
and it is an explosion

Detonate