afterthought

ice
melts

rain
drops

heart
beats

time
stops

always

but you

love me
     when you can

touch:my:soul

touch
my soul with words unrolled off tongues fed by syllabic soliloquies
touch
my mind in patterned sounds of 4 beat rhythm that dance themselves around me
the touch of two will wind itself round bodies like framed wisteria

wrapped in time
we dance on top of raindrops and collect stars from the constellation's nebula
love has no bounds
and like the wind
it moves through my limbs
scattering leaves
left illuminated by the red moon

the sun's teardrops

Life
Death
Rebirth
challenges
conquered in infancy
twisted ‘round variables of complex addendum
bespoke chambers of marginalized thoughts
we live...
in solitude
my spirit and I forever bound to this offering of life...
fists RAISED in defiance against death and it’s shortcomings
inside my clenched hand I hold the sun's teardrops
collecting the water till it becomes an oasis
covering the faces of one hundred centipedes marching through existence
in the distance it appears as nothing more than a reflection of my past
dropped from the heavens and drawn within a human outline
soon,
we shall become one
completing this circle of life by traveling the circumference
for now…
my spirit fills the tenements of body and soul
what is left will seep out of smoke filled tepees
I am part of her; earth and her needs insatiable
my bones; dust will mix with the wind; collected in clouds
finally finding rest inside the palace of my father
he will take these collected dreams and pour them into my mind’s eye
becoming
breath
life....
the sun’s teardrops

Butterfly Theory

locust sounds all around surround me with their native tongues
the words unfold into stories told of mankind’s living sins
my sisters and brothers of the swarm beat their wings in the summer’s winds
they tell me secrets of the world learned from the ancient virgin nymph
she unwinds a tale from African lands; the people and their suffering
etched inside her crystal wings centuries of slaves speak of their lament
the souls of our ancestors wrap themselves around a linen document
and with the joining of the two deliver messages directly heaven sent
we find the heart in a place that base existence on the subject’s shade of skin
the coarse black hair stands on end when beaten with horse’s whips
lashes unleashed on back and neck cause abuse felt by the next of kin
and from the scars rise bloody mounds resembling hand painted faces of children
eyes well with tears and water drops down rusty cheeks charred by the rising sun
the moisture left behind outlines a sketch of shuffling feet along the auction block
the step up to the hanging noose that many of them got
for feeling lost in a land not indigenous to their minds
now working on massa’s farms and paid just pennies for their time
to feed a family of light skinned children who don’t belong to the host
but instead an alien brood hidden from the old plantation’s ghosts
persecution of my people continues throughout decades of racial turmoil
time unfolds and a superior larva crawls from the tightly packed soil
ready to enforce the civil liberties given to you and I
Earl Little and Martin Sr. carried seeds of the future leaders; now angels in the sky
their voices moved an entire generation into marching and sitting down for a while
showing the nation that we as a people together are a force to be recognized
a people that cannot be thrown into the lions pit and torn from limb to limb
but instead one to learn from and invest a piece of future in
the growth of a people and persecution sometimes go hand in hand
but to know where we are headed we have to know where we’ve been
and now Barack emerges as the Ornithoptera Alexandrae
and the elders can now smile
for all the miles our people have traveled the snakes now have something
hard to swallow
from this man we all shall rise
the way the sun does;
everyday that we call tomorrow

- Flying

So he writes: watching the sun set against the backdrop of night. the lust of ebony drips from lips as he waits on the evening sky
He writes: of saturns and moons eternal bodies blessed with an occasion to share his first love
He writes: somber sonnets and silent soliloquies pressed against the fall air. like fingers in her hair he intertwines his words through space and time
He writes: of stars appearing as constellations along her spine as he connects the dots. seducing scorpio with a feather and making virgo smile
I write:
the night is my paper and she is my love. we dance together like two butterflies in flight along the path of forever. only stopping to rest on a cherry blossom to bask our wings in the moonlight.

sidewalk shaman

It happened to me
suddenly/like
the wind that blows in between downtown buildings
"excuse me sir but do you have any change for the winter?"
clink, clink, clink
clink, clink, clink
he jingles his cup as I watch and listen
"excuse me sir/ma'am, but do you have any change for the winter?"
with each shake of the cup
the din of the change rattling
I'm drawn
he shakes and cries out
like an ancient shaman wearing ankle bracelets
while conjuring spells with a magic staff
beset on all sides with encrusted jewels
poor sidewalk shaman
his audience wasn't listening
burying their heads deeper into shoulders
escaping the cold bitter reality
continuing to ignore this young man and his pain
his cries for help fall on mannequin ears
a tune he has played for years
the call and no response from the mass of passer byes
hunger has taken his mind and body over
never had a chance, this homeless land rover
nothing to do but
turn and face the mirror
the result of the growing insult of being ignored/not treated as a human
then with tears in his eyes he turns in my direction
head pressed against the glass
heart beat logarithms etched into the reflection
I’m transported to a world all but mine for a short amount of time
in the split second of space that we share
we surf together on oxymoronic parallels of despair
that here...
amidst the regurgitated prosperity/no one seemed to care
abandoned
adopted
in squalor forced to live
abused
accused
all of these words are his
insulted
imprisoned
with nothing left to give
but less answers
like
penniless
loveless
homeless
sidewalk shaman
oh you poor sidewalk shaman
my mind has witnessed enough
whirl your bullroarer
transport me back to my world
the reality of yours/too much
too much to take
not enough distance between what’s real and what’s fake
but wait
your reality was decided by Egyptian gods of fate
Shai, Meskhenet and Renenutet
like a child on a cross country trip
asking are we there yet
I want to be home
safe and sound
where I exist
…….all alone
blink
I’m awakened by a familiar sound
clink click clink
the sidewalk shaman still spinning his instrument around
Sir can you spare any change for the winter?
and into his world
we all enter

Broken wing

I fell....
down a spiraling case
pain
twisting turning
burning
hoping to spot a railing on the way down
the hurt hurts
like an ancient torture
forever nailing me to my
own cross
own dirt
covers the path that my back now rests on
chalk outlines
scribbled in Sanskrit
red and orange light burns through my skin
It is time now
to lift off and
fly

freestyle thoughts

I ran into an ex weekend, then I backed up and hit her again
who’s paying for the damage to my heart?
insurance doesn’t cover the flood of tears and scars on my wrists
an eternity of time left to heal the wounds of instantaneous harm
misguided and undirected like a plane on autopilot
they find their mark when the fuselage is lodged in my heart
burning to the core
big hole left to fill with some more

the kiss below

neck
breasts
stomach
thighs
knees
anklebones
just below where your toes
join your foot
all the places I would like to kiss
soft…
wet…
pauses in between
roll you over and start from the bottom again
heel
calf
back of knee
thighs
mounds of undulating flesh and bone
small of back
feeling me yet
shoulder blades
back of neck
earlobes
nowhere else to go….
but below

Snow

What if snow were black?

not just the color but….

blackness

That, ‘don’t you ever put your hands in my face like that again’

blackness
would the children still be allowed to play with it

or would they have to be granted permission first

would it cover the mountain tops of highest peaks

or be restricted to the lowlands of the inner parishes and shanty towns

would Bing Crosby still be dreaming of his Christmas

or might he just wait until Valentines Day to serenade the returning soldiers

If I balled a bunch of it together then hit you upside the head with it,

would you smile and then return the favor

or would I be committing a crime

assault and battery with a dangerous weapon

It's cool to be hit with some blackness every once in a while

leaves the surroundings crippled when it falls at a fast rate

like atoms bombs on the highway during rush hour

or

like the mother ship returning from an intergalactic revival

blinding lights shimmering through the corn rows

right fist raised

afro’s and supple lips

the second coming

what if snow were black?

would it be cold blooded

sustenance

I am starving
my life was once sustained by words caught in a net
drawn in from the sea of humanity
captured syllables flip and flop into linguistic somersaults
and I would cook them with abstract thoughts
until the meat would fall off the bone
without them I am starving
my paper feels alone
Will you feed me?

A Hustler's Dream

something happened to me today
I found a conscience while sleeping inside my cell
it had been missing for some time now
since I was selling powder through the roof of my silver Eldorado
should have seen it; thang was laid out pretty
100 spoke wheels spinning along the streets of my worn out city
raw cane packed so high in the house that it looked like I was collecting clouds
I was the police, the judge and the god damn constitution
I fed the entire hood my brand of justice with little or no mental collusion
cooked, wrapped and smoked
handcuffing motherfuckers with addiction
noses wide open from their white affliction
drugs and hoes fed my children; nursed my ego
I easily became a ghetto neighborhood hero
medallions and chains hang
cars, homes; knives and guns bang
my people would never be the same after my time in the game
we couldn’t go back to those soggy cheese sandwiches
roaches as pets
empty refrigerator
mom telling me this is as good as it gets
two younger siblings staring up at me
I was the man of the house before I hit puberty
even at eleven I had a hustler mentality
started with the grass, then graduated to powder
got bopped at fifteen
left the fam a security stack
my mom has never been prouder
kept her out of debt and my canteen creamed
22months to serve; I can do this in my sleep
25 now and running; living the hustlers way
everything was copacetic like Rakim used to say
had a baby boy and a girl on the way
that’s when it happened
I was riding the block with my little man beside me
turned at the second light and saw a young brown honey
hi how are you?; through sticky wet lips and big pearly teeth
I’m doing fine and so are you as far as I can see
she’s handing me the number through the window of my car
I see her eyes glance up and her mouth form into a scream
directly across the street, dude is on his knees
pointing a Tec in my direction
shots rang out
then
silence…
smoke clears
an eternity passes before I look up from the driver’s seat
adrenaline and blood cover me
look to the left; honey lay dead
look to the right; my little boy
my seed, my prince…. shot in the head
I can do nothing but stare at his lifeless body
his mother’s eyes looking directly at me
blank but still full of childhood memories
a bloody teardrop falls
and lands on the armrest
simultaneously I wake up from a ten year old dream
PRISONER NUMBER 01202009 YOU ARE FREE TO GO
16 MONTHS SERVED and nothing to live for
but tomorrow
rewind

Inspired by a walk

while I walked..

the crunch of the snow kept me aware

kept me from slipping to that edge of despair

you know the place, we all been there

not paying attention to where you’re going

watching the footsteps created from behind

subconsciously leaving a path for the past to catch up

running now

faster

harder

had to pull off the layers

sweating

huffing and puffing

damn Newports

used to be built for war

have the tags to prove it

but now

black ink is only there

the moonlight provides companionship

but her love will only last for so long

she will leave to elope with the horizon

and I will stand on the bridge to nowhere

watching the tide set against the grey sky

the frost leaves my nostrils

and paints a caricature of my thoughts along the backdrop of stars

the night; she and I are one

my lover and my friend when loneliness sets in

she wraps her arms around and holds me warm

in the distance the church bell rings

shattering my visions

so I turn and face the inevitable

there is my past once again

its funny how the past, present and future

all look the same

Soul kisses the night

Soul
Kiss
Touch
Move
night disappears into the morning sun
footsteps wrapped in cotton & silk
ends frayed by dancer’s movements brush away the sounds of the city's lonely lament
dark hair and wild wonder
minds
set on fire by dual desire
strings pulled across the room in a whirlwind fashion
to her
I am close
but too far to feel the like before
lips against mine
kisses along my neck
souls in a warm embrace
moving to the beat of the sunrise
more than friends
our time is like gondolas floating among the paper lanterns
current pulls my heart under
eternal slumber
Move
Touch
Kiss
Soul
the way we live
until death does us part
beyond this life are the hopes and dreams in streaks of red and black
blood against the night
pulling roses from my heart
butterflies dance
eyes closed
passion explodes
A extremidade
Το τέλος
L'estremità

النهاية

drunk

we move round in circles
our feet above ground
hands; arms
clasped entwined like ivy
lips touch neck and leaves imprints of obsession
veins fill with warmth
perspiration quenches the feral thirst of passion
we twist the night away between stars and moonlight
a verbal divinity is born
her breath turns to crystalline particles and I catch them in a glass of rum…

He dreams of water under the bridge

Watch
as I become the cosmic sage
winding my thoughts into secret spells that stain the brain with silver stardust dropped from Orion's belt
father sun rises in the opposite direction
orange clouds rain twisted teardrops along the right side of brother horizon
the grandchildren of the ocean collect themselves inside the open eyes of sister moon
who weeps a thousand years until we are all united again
but where is the mother Earth?
She revolves alone on tilted axis keeping me off balance, feet sliding to the side hanging into empty space;tickled by passing comets
she is only here when her eyes are opened; sleepwalking an eternity away
leaving her children to play in the fire of alone
the three siblings create the trinity
place upon their mother's head a bed of thorns
now adorned queen
she must answer for the resulting sins grown from her decisions
but before sleep comes a vision
beautiful roses scattered along aisles of linen chairs
smiling faces
chiffon and pashmina
lacy ribbons in herb colored hues
floorlength seams
something borrowed
something blue
they laugh and dance to lies
wrapped around the rings like a locust in hibernation
only breaking through the earth when fully nourished by hidden frustration
the heart beats to intermittent fluctuations
Boom dada boom doom
Boom dada boom doom
happiness leaves the room
my eyes open to a throbbing heartache
dreams have become a notebook
one of which I fill with endless tales
dark perceptions of life's imperfections
visions of heaven non existent in the reflection
of water under the bridge

the moon's reflection on the water

My mind hasn’t drifted to this place in a while
the air is not the same
the sound that surrounds me is unfamiliar
faint when it was once loud, like legions of angels
strumming the tune on a broken harp
is it love again?
my ears are covered with sea shells
my heart
stuck on mute...
forever

wassup 2008

TRUE...

fallen

I missed her before she left
so when she did
I was left emotionless
twisting;turning
teardrops
falling;burning
days left yearning her
again....
never happened
....for the best
becomes a test of time
when my mind rewinds
her soul crisscrosses the plains with mine
it will be the same
falling night descends
darkness rules the world
I am a dragon prince
riding the wings of our lunar children
from a distance I hear the beating of her heart
it pauses where I once existed
I visit her in the night as she slumbers with another
my lips part
as if to scream out
instead a flame ignites
the night passes
my words...
have left me
again....
I am alone...........

message in a bottle

forget about you
that
I could never do
sound of waves
words of love
lasting forever
for all of eternity
elevate our souls
sing from high above
ahead of the trail, twin butterflies dance
darting along a musical note, never missing a beat
boom bap
never missing a kiss
boom bap
with paper yellow wings
wild orchid twigs finger-paint sketches of the city along the blue and grey horizon
he and she rises
reflecting heat from the sun
simple strums of the long beads hanging
history repeats itself inside and out
overwhelmed

drowning

Within my fingers, I grip the destiny of words and thought
lyrics dropped like bombs incite riots inside of schoolyard playgrounds
we stand together
along the side of the fence
watching the crowd run aimlessly to and fro in futile attempts
trying to put out a fire with dry hay and splinters of foundation timbers
fanning the flames with hands clasped and lips parted
flesh melts before a kiss can be received
death without love releases primitive screams
lifeless infants lie in their mother’s arms; she no longer able to nurse them
dead as the look in her eyes
the umbilical cord ignites
smothering the babe with the wrongdoings of its birth mother
where is father?
he is burning too
caught up in the misty haze of responsibilities between home and bottle
for him
this reality is hard to swallow
so he fills himself on sacraments before continuing his father’s cycle
his shadow is haunted by mental abuse and past physical trauma
knuckles lie wrapped in scars from the crest and cleaned by striking the tears of another
victim
in life or fortune he would never win
so he carries with him a shotgun on his shoulder
an itchy trigger finger when someone draws closer
hiding behind illiteracy and the pure desire to be reminded of…
how it is to feel...
once again before death knocks
live...
once again before it is too late
where there was love; exists instead
hate
the angels weep as they count their new collection
marionettes
with strings around their necks
showing imperfections
while trying to break the cycle; losing direction
hobbled wheels
thump thump along the cobblestone
wheelbarrows full of the remains of another family gone
their will to survive into the soil will be sown
nurturing the next breed of man
watered with the dreams of the last left wondering
if life looks the same above water

h-2-o

Mermaids sing from a distance as
I call you with a
Soothing,
Tranquil voice
Anticipating to see you again
My foamy ruffles
Flowing with grace
Elegantly sail onto
Your rocky sediments
Smoothed by my moist lips
Riding onto your shores
Walking closer as my tide rises
To see how far I can go
Wind blows
Drawing me closer to you
Enveloping the footprints left in the sand
Wiping your slate clean
Bowing at your consent as the true ocean queen

She is the ocean
and I am the land
we were married by the sea urchin
lured by her cousin the moon to elope during high tide
our sirens sang a melodic sound
and the shoulders of our babes kept warm
by the flowing lace and chiffon
but now I stare at our cousin the moon
and to me he whispers the heaviest of tunes
he tells me tales of my love gone missing
and the other beaches that she’s been kissing
I wait for her return like the fair maiden in a tower
I would do anything possible; anything in my power
I would sit at the shore and count our children on the beach
I would dig a hole in a rock and in it place my feet
and those same feet would be swung over the dock
when they her rocky floor, time would stop
my heart would stop
my breathing stop
my movement…
stopped..

…and lifting up your chin,
Gazing at your handsome face
Opening your golden mouth as it meets mine
I resuscitate
Fish rivulets to your bittersweet soul
So you can continue to roam in your sandy palace
Cousin Moon likes to bring deceit
So do not listen to his secret jealousy
Grainy thoughts in your mind…but
I must confess earnestly
My spirit is joyous and carefree
Full of freedom
Much as I yearn to be with you
In your permanent destination
My heart is curious of other exotic locations
Not because I do not enjoy
Our wonderful moments of
Crashing into each other,
Peacefully
But you let me
Dress you in whichever way pleases me
Singing duets with sister Wind
Licking your ears with my wavy voice
Leaving a nourished smile on your face
Undaunted to do everything I’ve ever wanted

my place in this life is with her; without
there is no will to survive

Smitten
Eyes glistened
By your wishful desire
Even if you can’t live with instability
I have to apologize…I am very sorry
Please understand
Your revelation to my misty blue eyes
Made me realize
I have more to bless others with
No one can choose your born destiny
Because it’s already innate
And I’m already late
For the distant dates
Who awaits
Me
Patiently
To bless them
With my reign of beauty
Furthermore, I help them realize how pretty
They are, inside and out
Thanks to you, my sweetie

I miss the sound of my ocean
her waves wrapped inside exist within my psyche
my thoughts are eternity instead of a single day mentality
where time and mind live together as an entity
unity without the y

I borrowed it for the C and R

now tears fall when I imagine not feeling the touch of her body next to mine
I’m missing her all the time
she is always on my time
I want to step back and rewind time
instead of us all I have now is...
time
the beaches erode away
while my heart in turn
keeps a place for the absence that she will replace
in my
time

Distant lover and friend
For us time will never end
Because the vows we made will never descend
I will always return to re-consume our pleasurable duty
But I have a responsibility
To other cherry blossoms and tiger lilies
Waiting to bloom in exotic depths of other lands
Sister Wind will send you a message
Upon my return…until then
I shower you with farewell kisses
No need to wait…for me…with melancholy
Heart
In your heart I will be …
Eternally

and while her waves...
wet the soil of distant lands
I have grown much stronger with my feet in the sand
our children of white sandy beaches spans beyond the reaches
of sight and habitats of all of the world’s creatures
my ocean is encompassing
touching and refreshing
she is my blessing
a gift from the heavens
and while my heart aches in pains
this ode to her I cannot refrain
to say
come back to me soon
my deep
beautiful ocean of you

no longer held captive

As long as I can remember,
words
have been my escape
together
we erase the daily grind
riding the stroke of pen and pencil
until
disappearing within the lines of parched linen paper
only to rise
and nourish the people with splashes of ink and charcoal
I hold my fingers up to the sunrise and watch as
imprisoned emotions seep from my skin
words
no longer held captive

Conversation with a Friend Part III - Forget to Breathe

beyond silence
dim lights
surround sound
midnight motions=
calling grooves
his name
her lips move
curves the tongue
spins
round and round
city streets
crowded faces
places
double doors
fire's view
her eye
spots
you
calling grooves

She
speaks of wind swept dreams
unkempt memories
in places serene
waves wash over beaches
in the space
between sand,
emotion is granted
a final resting-place
giving time and reason
to share this
kiss
until
heavenly emotion
create
songs of devotion
hark from clouds above
and
sun shines down
the warmth that
love is truly made of

when the mind plays tunes
that move and groove
red fruit glass *
apples melons cherries
now=empty stash
keep winding motionless
time
on a one way mind
clock stops 2
a.m.
she longs for you*

hours and seconds
melt into
days; weeks
wet cheeks
from tears in time
now defined
by ghosts of you
skeleton
keys; jingle
rusty love songs
of why I kept you
so close
close enough to hurt
even in absence
of essence
still effecting my
five senses
we
were a blessing
but now
exist as memories
lost in
time’s mirror
the reflection
repeating itself
over and over again
transcending
galaxies
for us to see
lasting
all of
eternity

glass house
has no windows
broken stairs
give way
the bleeding hearts
hang
joy of love
sang
shadows yet linger
divine pain
blue sky rest
blue moon text
her rhythm
empty
silenced inside
our walls
of this once
plentiful nest*

us
wrapped in
rhyme; waves of sunshine
words
mixed to beats
so divine
it's easy
to forget to
breathe....

the end of the continuum from the perception of space and flesh – an ode to an imperfect existence

once was a time that our selves were one
all of the stars held court for the highest nobility
upon our staff we held the power of the sun
then a child born unto the galaxy gave us the trinity
we looked down upon the millions of life below
and witnessed the despair and victory of human kind
even with our clairvoyance we still shared a common sorrow
pulled down into a world of inferior thoughts from unconscious minds
in awe of a world of inhibition and licentious trials
then ascended upon the Earth in heavenly form
the lustful juices of forbidden fruits drip from our smile
our skin lay bare where concealment was once the norm
time winds forward and finds your mind with him
I share the secret touch with her and many more
an inhibition of sexual deviance takes over
crisscrossing paths give the need for a body count score
human carnage piles up into mounds of undulating flesh
and then
we
are lost
selves have been halved and self exists alone
we now survive on varied concepts of reality
and our paths transverse the planes we once called home

funniest thing I have ever seen

I know this is not poetry
But I had to share it with my readers. A video I came upon...

http://view.break.com/484483 - Watch more free videos

she is

slowly; softly

she has become a part of me

with her

I decipher parables of life’s complex existence

without

a pause after every sentence

our love grows with every passing day

never taken as a weakness

she is

my friend

my confidant

my lover

my now

my future

my forever

my day

my night

my dreams

she is

..

..

my muse

Midnight Moon and the Rising Phoenix

the night presses against our skin as we rest in a midnight slumber
bodies lie contorted like marionettes
touching; bare
seemingly dropped from the heavens
landed onto the softness of pillows, sheets and down feathers
the yellow light of the moon reflects onto her curves
providing a lunar nightlight to guide lips along their evening journey
I watch as she rustles restlessly because of traveling fingers
and then…
like a phoenix she rises and spreads her wings
she takes her mount above me
body glistening as she winds her way about
searching for the love child of Eros and Venus

O-god

rapture; released through deep, primal screams
guttural sounds echo throughout the neighborhood, shattering glass e’where
the skies part and rain down upon us
...her mist and the remaining ashes combine into a sleeping potion
now resting again
her head nestled between my chest muscles & her breathing synchronized with my heartbeats

soon…

sleep

Terminus

this is the end
I will never pick up the pen again to put down words onto the paper or attempt to rhyme in every other line
the feedback I’ve received has been:
‘Well its more storytelling and militant, yelling over lines designed with no poetic meter in mind’
so time after time I find myself going back and rewriting my poetic concubine into something that I hope would register, crack or pop. I type then…stop
I’m distracted by the detractors and illegitimate responses then poisoned by what they might say
my pen asks:
Anwar, why do we feel that way?
my reply, after wiping tears from my eyes …before an answer…comes a reflection…
I write poetry, prose, sonnets and soliloquies, senryu’s, haiku’s, acrostic and erotic, triplets and mirrors but what I have the biggest fear of…
is failure
Failure of the notion that the voices that sing from the chords of my crisscrossed patterns displayed on horizontal lines designed to relay my inner tone…poetically…
will never reach the heights that true understanding might…like…
if you could imagine how my mind rewinds time and time again. I touch all of the levels from hell to heaven, from the furthest reaches of Venus to Earth then all of the stars in between us
to actually put it down in a form that seems norm to anyone that has not been around to surf with me during my shape shifting, bullroarer swinging, aboriginal walk-about the world with a Jordan like swagger, it just wouldn’t matter
I’ve been born and born again
wrapped in swaddled cloth
raised from the south but lived in the north
gravitated and graduated
loved and hated
worked, been fired
rehired; by the government
existed under alias’
trained and sustained on Red, White and Blue
been shot, stabbed, homeless
sold drugs, shined shoes
married, divorced had a kid then another
that made two
been forced to give up my freedom as a result of negative reasoning
watched death creep in and take over loved one’s bodies
existed as a loner and been the life of the party
ran for a few touchdowns
lived in large developed cities and small desolate towns
I’ve done lots of things from the beginning of life and in between
till now…
I’ve been proud because pen and paper, I have never put down…
till now…
so may the ink rest in peace and I hope that this piece becomes a piece of you
another arm to swim with
another leg to dance with
another lover at night to have…
my thoughts to become yours…through a pen and a pad

cineri gloria sera venit

Anwar

Children of the Night - Saul Williams