Linguistic Metaphors

night residue

2011-07-24T13:39:00.000-04:00

We have allowed lies to infiltrate our fragmented mentality and become truth, we have allowed mediocrity to become the majority;
yet we ask what happened to this society and its youth.

wtf

2011-07-20T22:15:00.003-04:00

“how can you learn to let go when you’ve been conditioned to hold onto everything”

the sum of one

2011-06-05T08:43:00.001-04:00

how could you ever think that zero was better than one
I mean in terms of a young man; one father to me was better than none any day
the holy father will always be; his essence isn't obligated to be counted as any number except totality
but while you were young and I was too, you obligated yourself to another family and never looked back
brother heroin, sister coke and father time
having revivals every night
while I grew and matured you wallowed and stood
stagnate, white dwarf hanging in the evening sky
your light slowly fading as the years pass you by
and here I exist;your oldest son
-magnificent; transcendent of my genetic demise
wings flapping; like an ancient warrior riding on the back of a dragon
rising from the flames of scorched souls and bad habits
I am in rewind, thinking of all the good times and memories inside
but I am stuck on zero
lonely tree standing in the woods, cleansing fire came through
young; loose cannon with no direction; just hate fueled by rejection, loneliness and loss of aspiration

my soul forced to love alone, I was scared but now I'm grown

so now, as I stand above you, I can see that death can bring life

your spirit has taken on the shape of another and the winds pick up outside

- litter blows by the sidewalk stoop, a car horn blows nearby,

- an old man is asking for change and the morning whistle of the first train blows out of south station -

you are free to fly amongst the birds in the sky

free to gaze at the world passing you by

all that anger and conflicted emotion has been thrown to the side

and I can finally smile
the sum of one will always be one
when there's nothing added to it

Gil Scott-Heron Sunlight| April 1, 1949 Sunset| May 27, 2011

2011-05-27T23:21:00.000-04:00

I'm stuck

2011-05-26T22:35:00.001-04:00

silence...
nothing but the whispers
whispers of ghosts in the dark damp night
sound
in the darkness
my hands are bound

watch me as I spin round and

round

possessed; flesh ravished by demon hounds

not a hint of light can be found

trapped in a box

6 feet

under/ground

I'm stuck

I'm losing my mind

my heart has taken over my thoughts and...

it's reminding me of what I cannot hide

I'm stuck

bottomless pit; heads on a stick

above ground, pigs; but here, humans on the spit

roasting and choking

getting fat on the apple

soul slowly pouring out like candle wax

leaks on the napkin;

what happened you ask

why am I in such a place

sold my soul some time ago

Egyptian woman/hourglass shape

she'd showed me love and the path to worldly things

our lives interlaced like ink on the skin

there was a child born of the second summer in fact

babe had eyes the mother but born with wings on its back

death traded the child's first breath for its last

the weight of the world bore down on poor mothers soul

and in the fall her body hung cold

found by my reflection

and screams of rejection

rejection that the reflection would not remain lonely for long

I would follow her to this new purgatory home

because a life taken before it's time

will sleep eternally with a restless mind

and she could never alone bear this burden of mine!

I'm stuck

I'm

stuck

...

we are together again

finish my sentence

2011-05-10T08:23:00.001-04:00

I am...

simplicity

2011-04-10T13:21:00.002-04:00

in whispers

2011-03-18T17:14:00.000-04:00

just the thought of being able to hear your voice again -
brings tears to my eyes
So instead I;
think out loud
in whispers

palindrome

2011-03-14T13:24:00.001-04:00

:staying alive:
mind
body
soul
barely able to carry me through
I stay lifted
beyond necessity
my third eye stays clouded shrouded in sadness
due to the absence of her; seeping from my skin
the pain shows true
I am lost
like a babe in the woods with no sense of mind to find his way home to his palindrome:

labyrinth

2011-02-19T21:16:00.003-05:00

Sometimes, I don't have words for the way that I feel and I have to rely on images and other types of mediums to get me through a blank spot. My words usually come, raw and uncensored or detailed and organized. Either way, they are the words that I use to relay to the world my thoughts and emotions, simply put, how I feel inside. Loss of something or someone is hard to overcome. You can choose to forget and move on or you can deal with the issues up front, I am stuck somewhere in the middle and it is a horrible place to be. The past year presented itself in a way that I would never want to go through again or wish upon my worst enemy. I lost and lost - a lot. Whether it was my love, my mother, my friends, my business or my children, I lost everything that I cared for in one calendar year of time. Nana used to always say to me when I was a young man, "If you think that you are doing bad, just look around and you'll find someone in worse shape than you are." She would follow with, "At least you have your health and you can breathe and you are above ground." Wise words for an old sage of a woman, I can still smell her when I think of her.

but

- my mind is convoluted with distrust, head on a swivel; looking around

what if I already exist as a corpse above ground, a ghost, floating and hovering, passing through tangible objects just to get through the day. What if, I am already dead, an apparition of muscle and bone that is lost, searching for his home. An aborigine, looks like my ancestor, whirs his bull roarer and - puff -- I am no longer - just dust floating through the spacial emptiness of time. I spin and turn, waiting to be caught in the escaping wind but instead I find myself intertwined between the feathers of Icarus. I cannot help but to weigh him down and together, spirit leaves body again and we drown.

I cannot change the labyrinth in my mind, it is here that I exist for now

now is never forever

- this is where I exist for now

but now is not forever

it is here that I exist for now

and to those that have left....

?

2011-02-16T15:21:00.000-05:00

- Have you ever been in love with someone so much that you started to hate them -
because they didn't love you back the way you wanted them to

she used to tell me this
before I began losing her

my words

2011-02-16T15:16:00.000-05:00

my words
are that
...my words

they have no emotion or feeling until the are reflected off of the way you feel inside
if you do not like my words
change the way that you feel inside
because I will never be

silent

for any man
- ever -
and that’s
my word

the time before

2010-12-31T20:04:00.001-05:00

I have something for you
it exists within the confines of space behind my brows
beautiful
brooding
clandestine
I will unveil it in the moment of the least expectation
it is.....
the time before

the night that the truth remained silent

2010-10-12T14:19:00.002-04:00

I watch as she plays with her hair

nervous little tugs and twists

using her thumb and forefinger; the same two she'd use to fix her eyelash

our conversations

remixed with the first break of the of the sun and the emptiness from the night before

ambient and stunning

chasing the dust particles around us

- she asks for honesty

and I give

- she asks for reasons

and I outline

- she asks for commitment

and I

and I
and

I watch as she plays with her hair

nervous little tugs and twists

using her thumb and forefinger; the same two she'd use to fix her eyelash

sunday morn

2010-10-03T06:30:00.002-04:00

before the dew wakes

we watch the moon set

like the first time

tone deaf in sign language

2010-09-15T14:44:00.004-04:00

Is it so bad that I miss her?
if I say it aloud will she hear me?
we were once connected - through wave lengths & frequencies
now the other end of the line has gone silent
or my side has gone mute
maybe she is listening to another
or maybe she is waiting to hear me say those words
I need you

Harvard St.

2010-09-15T14:34:00.005-04:00

On Harvard St. there were never any sad rainy days
outside on the street in the rain, my friends and I would race boats
made out of leaves
that had fallen from the trees
in the cool Autumn breeze in Boston. Dorchester to be exact
:smile:
when I was little
she would watch my games out of the living room window
laughing at me because I look like a sailor; only smaller
with a big bow tie on:red
and orange band-aids against my copper skin
white shirt;favorite blue shorts
:smile:
I would find the green leaves of the trees
the ones you can split
and stick on your nose
:smile:
my boat is flying down the stream
dodging rocks and Pepsi cans
even with victory I know that the gutter awaits
my rainy day shows me; in life all of the bad things go down the drain
so I smile
and she smiles
and I am happy
on Harvard St

inamorata

2010-09-08T01:45:00.002-04:00

it seems so unreal - the night

she arrives and cloaks my surroundings like a purple veil over the brightest light

she is silent in her movements baring nothing on her body but the color of skin

BLACK

her eyes

BLACK

her essence

INDIGO

like a piece of onyx mined from a distant star

I enjoy the thought of her over an evening smoke

the strands of grass tickling her ear; pulling her closer into me

I inhale her smells winding all around me; vanilla and ebony oil
tonight she and I are one

loving the time we share under the stars

they provide a guide for my hands as I grasp her along the So' Dine'é

I am her only audience; the only one to behold her in this form

Naked; but still cloaked in darkness

I smile at her attention to detail as she disrobes her final piece

heedful to not wake her slumbering father

the SUN

we kiss

like two comets that crash into one another

we kiss

the way that the ocean touches the sand

we kiss

like ...the ...first ...kiss

and I fall into her arms; it is here that I wait

until the freshness of dawn wanders onto my skin

we still lay wrapped; the night and I

embraced in the simplicity of it all

I stare into her eyes as I drift off to sleep

keeping my secret safe with me

forever

inamorata

the path of seppuku

2010-08-29T01:04:00.001-04:00

hurt
& no doctor can help the ailment
only the sharp blade of a tanto
that severs the Línea negra

missing notebook

2010-08-26T12:49:00.001-04:00

I am on strike
not from love
work
or any other vice
I am on strike; my people
from
LIFE
I'm missing my notebook
it reminds me of the time I left my bike out in front of the barbershop; only to come out ten minutes later to find Damien riding it under the El Tracks heading from North Hampton to Dover Station
I dodge in and out of the traffic following him; horns blaring and shining at the same time
by the time we made it to Cathedral High School, I was tired and he turned smiled and said
had enough
that day, as the wind stay swirling around the blond edges of my freshly cut high top fade, three stripes on the side right above the ear - rattail in the back; I look down at my gold & black ADIDAS Forums, and I know that I'm not running anymore, not today -
Give me my bike
-------------------------------- seems so long ago; today I am not that person, a shadow of the latter part of my light and I am tired of the darkness
the fight is too much; everywhere I turn, I am blocked off;
the only way is up and my vertical jump is one inch; used to be a cinch but now
LIFE
is just
a bitch

matriarch

2010-08-21T18:28:00.002-04:00

Today
is the day that you were born and life was given to this family
sometimes;
you may think that your prayers for
*togetherness*
may fall on deaf ears, but WE hear you
WE love you on this day and any other that our hearts beat & our eyes see
because
Today is the day that you were born
and gave life to this family
- to Lucy Rodrigues

mother ship

2010-08-05T15:06:00.002-04:00

tonight,
the sky is empty in entirety
except;
the moonlight that drifts through the clouds like a windswept ship
rocking to and fro
riding beams of yellow-orange light
spraying stars into the vastness of the night
the figurehead opens her eyes
and into darkness she cries for her children

conflicted

2010-08-05T15:03:00.002-04:00

The wisps of air surround me in an unfamiliar note
I am happy
& sad

The Attempted Assimilation of Taure

2010-07-29T21:54:00.005-04:00

Today
began the arduous task of the Attempted Assimilation of Taure
the ascension of heights that soar to moon and beyond
is not a feat for mere mortals
for I have asked God to fill my vessel with his spirit
so that I can be his trumpet & human portal
sorrow and despair can not be bread of which to live on
when the world is filled liars, cheats and vagabonds
I have asked Him, to keep in the light
of all that is birthed in the dark
before those things reach the cavern of my heart
burn bright as they may; and that they did
but still
Today
began the arduous task of the Attempted Assimilation of Taure
stay back and stand clear
there is a Holy spirit hovering near
Closer to Thee is not just a hymn
it is the promise to me
from the Almighty Him

future photograph

2010-07-20T11:25:00.001-04:00

I'm passing by my photo again
captivating, award winning shot nestled between a bridge and an ocean
birds rise from the horizontal lines as the sun lay flat on window panes
the reflection is lured away by the morning traffic
sexual architecture
I plan on taking that picture
Soon

in my own words

2010-07-15T18:27:00.002-04:00

Most people when giving advice, (unless specially trained) can only give advice rooted from their own personal experiences. When I ask a question or seek advice from someone, I want that person's knowledge to come from a place that is planted, nurtured and cultivated by God. Most advice givers tend to steer, maneuver and guide those that come for advice with phrases like 'This is what I've done or This is what I would do.' My people, I don't want to know what it is that you would do, I want to know what would my God want me to do. How would He, if of earthly flesh and emotion, ponder my query.

Do not answer or try to guide me opposite the path of your demise because then your are living vicariously; carelessly through me. The only one I want to have living through me and I through He, is God. No matter how good your answers to my questions may seem at the time, if the words are not blessed by God, then the words matter naught. Advice givers, get rooted in God, his words, his teachings, his reality. And for those that seek advice, understand from where that advice might be coming. If God's word is what you seek, go directly to Him. Ask of Him, big or small, all that is required to live.
Today

so sincere

2010-06-29T13:03:00.003-04:00

My love for you is bound like the hands of a prisoner
I am your innate
intimate; inmate
Keep me forever shackled to your heart
and be my life forever

12:52pm

2010-06-29T00:55:00.002-04:00

the title of this poem was going to be 11:45pm

but I took a little time for myself

I should write about 12:52 more often and leave 11:45 alone.

- the doves

2010-06-27T19:47:00.001-04:00

drifting

spirit

like a

windswept

rain

drum line

of heartbeats

prolonging

the pain

where a smile

once existed

now a ripple

across the lake

offerings to God

stained with tears

dotting her face

the doves read the Sanskrit

and take flight in the morn

- into an angel, my love

is born

question

2010-06-07T02:13:00.006-04:00

what to do, what to do o Lord
- when the prayers and praise turn to
condolences
or

… side glances from those that lack anything to say

I do not blame them
when I lose the ability to communicate I feel crippled and feeble minded - I think that the only way to save the embarrassment is to be silent - the silence transforms my language into speaking/tongues - and from the tongue evolves a vision - a vision of never having to say goodbye to those that you love - a misconception based on insincere thoughts that somehow - someway - weave themselves into the tapestry of reality - like the tears that have carved crevasses along my profile…

…into the shape of sorrow

what would it be, what would it be

If my dreams

were reality

.::garden symphony::.

2010-06-07T01:13:00.004-04:00

I
hear
sound

weaving in & around words like the g/clef of a trumpet blowing in the autumn breeze -

the trees have violins attached and to the flowers ...

a mandolin

together they perform a garden symphony to their love - a distant gaze from the window above - originating from a cathedral means - along a lane of brick and green -

when the sunshine ceases to shine and the rain decides to appear - the garden symphony ends - abruptly as the wind changes - and the pain closes in like the cold of winter - seasons of history lost with the garden symphony - memories have only paper remains and the sound has reason

end

cYr

2010-05-28T13:09:00.002-04:00

rest easy my love

your spirit is now free

to roam in places

we will never see

- mother

has never sounded so sweet

until the day it became your name

love

anwar

what a long road

2010-01-19T02:18:00.002-05:00

free

2010-01-13T11:04:00.008-05:00

It is dawn

The last of the night drips off of the moon and I find myself conversing with the remaining stars speckled here and there on the indigo canvas - conversations mixed with a Bin Shiraz, a green stuffed cigar and the occasional split from reality - my ears are filled with Miles and Coltrane - Hayes and Cooke - soulful classics that gloriously blend with the sounds of the early morning traffic - I am free -

- like the birds in flight rustled from their nest by the passing jet - just as free as the smoke that billows from the buildings across the river - I am free - from any constraints - any issues - any drama - any complaints - I am free

- free like the wind
- free like a balloon floating through the air
- free like a spirit released
- free like
- free like

me
I have always enjoyed this time of day - just me and the remaining stars toasting the next blessed dawn - the night escapes us like a thief in the night - cloaked by the rising sun - the warmth of the new horizon breaks open a smile across my face

- and I am free

four eyes

2010-01-05T21:38:00.003-05:00

some believe that..

love is blind

I say..

it blinds those that believe in it

"You're blind baby, you're blind from the facts on who you are

'cause you're watchin' that garbage!" - "She Watch Channel Zero" Public Enemy, 1988

he says/she says

2010-01-01T03:51:00.017-05:00

· how can we get back to the place that existed before now ·

she says:

I used to love you

he says:

I still do

she says:

You don't want to love me

he says:

I still do

she says:

You don't know what love is

he says:

I still do

she says:

I need more

he says:

I still do

she says:

I have found another

he says:

- I Say:

I am lost without you - time stops when you are not there - my heart misses a beat where it once skipped when you were here - take me as I am - no return for damaged goods - love me unconditionally - feast on my weaknesses - I ask one thing specifically -

Will you

love me even if I don't love me?

Can you look past all of my insecurities my handcuffs and possibly, possibly...

love me

even when

I don't

love me?

she says:

I still do

he says:

I used to love you

she says:

I still do

he says:

You don't want to love me

she says:

I still do

she says:

she says:

- you never listen

he says:

- you never hear me

she says:

- I am always last

he says:

- you are the beginning and end

she says:

- show me

he says:

- while we are saying - we are not loving - we are not living - we are not - sharing - we - are - not - we -

she says:he says:she says:he says:she says:he says:she says

how can we get back to the place that existed before now

- that place called

- we -

thoughts

2010-01-01T03:01:00.004-05:00

I remix the elements of nature and share with you the results

¦soul¦heart¦water¦sound¦love¦peace¦

My soul is etched with chords of my ancestors song and my heart beats to the rhythm of the river. The tranquility of my youth; replaced by the reflection of my adult form, seems so far away. I miss the sound, like one would a true love. It is my yearning, a peaceful journey through life and the rewards for the days that I breathe in the time of this existence. My spirit is filled with love and I cannot deny the numbing feeling that I am left with.

my resolution

2010-01-01T01:12:00.004-05:00

~ continue to bless me Lord, until time exists no more ~

a new day

2009-12-06T20:31:00.008-05:00

I want you all over me

like wind on a stormy night

rain leaves stains on the window pane

the way that your touch feels on my skin

everyday is a new day

to be bonded with you again

past::present

2009-11-26T11:28:00.002-05:00

the sun is rising
I have evolved a full cycle
shedding skin from yesterday
I sit
watching
as the light grows from the middle of the dark
the sun has risen
now to third I level

beginning of downtown crossing

2009-11-26T11:07:00.008-05:00

my mind is like white patchouli
mixed with a bit of musk oil
I like to sprinkle the scent onto sheets of bound memories
my fingers press out the smell with every indentation of a new word or syllable
much time has passed since I've been
here....

downtown crossing
people:
watching
smelling
walking
talking
going about their way
the scent of my city is the same
in this train of paper dreams
new memories framed in the windows of passing reflections

now the beginning has become the end

and we are passing through downtown crossing again

alone

2009-10-20T05:32:00.003-04:00

she sits and weeps a single tear

along her cheek of rose

my absence has left her lost for words

and I have lost my love

....

I have lost my love

....

and I

have lost..

~love

afterthought

2009-05-15T03:49:00.004-04:00

ice
melts

rain
drops

heart
beats

time
stops

always

but you

love me
when you can

touch:my:soul

2009-05-10T22:56:00.002-04:00

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

2009-04-12T10:59:00.004-04:00

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

2009-03-25T16:25:00.000-04:00

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

2009-03-13T19:08:00.003-04:00

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

2009-03-13T18:27:00.004-04:00

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

freestyle thoughts

2009-02-15T21:08:00.001-05:00

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

2009-02-15T20:46:00.003-05:00

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

sustenance

2009-01-27T11:44:00.007-05:00

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
I would cook them with abstract thoughts until the meat falls off the bone
without them I am starving
my paper feels alone

....
Will you feed me?

A Hustler's Dream

2008-12-30T20:46:00.000-05:00

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

2008-12-24T02:38:00.003-05:00

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

2008-12-11T23:22:00.003-05:00

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

2008-11-30T12:10:00.003-05:00

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

2008-11-25T12:49:00.007-05:00

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

2008-11-12T11:49:00.002-05:00

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

2008-10-29T00:00:00.001-04:00

TRUE...

fallen

2008-10-19T17:57:00.003-04:00

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

2008-10-16T03:01:00.002-04:00

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

2008-10-01T13:15:00.005-04:00

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

2008-10-01T00:39:00.008-04:00

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

2008-09-16T13:36:00.003-04:00

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

2008-08-01T19:01:00.006-04:00

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

2008-07-29T13:22:00.004-04:00

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

2008-07-27T11:29:00.003-04:00

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

2008-06-27T02:40:00.005-04:00

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

2008-06-25T23:55:00.005-04:00

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

2008-06-20T23:19:00.009-04:00

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

2008-06-20T20:33:00.002-04:00

Intimacy of the Mind and Pen

2008-05-19T15:50:00.002-04:00

If I could simply state
I could never be without you
spiritually and physically you are my bridge to reality
..the voice of my soul
when you are not near, my thoughts go cold
my life…
unfolds
blank like paper is my stare
our words go missing because their existence is based on the time we share
together

together
our words become children delivered in sonnets and stories, nursed on haiku's about yellow morning glories
our children describe
what it feels like inside the greatest minds of our time
our grandchildren give birth to
Spanish villas off the coast of Orion’s belt
and our great grand children talk about
alligators skating on ice that never melts
together

without the union of us there can be no others
after, present or before
the devil smiles with another chance to reach out and settle the score
the tales of our culture will not live without leaving the mouths of unborn kids and herded by the shepherds in the morn
our bodies covet the linen sheets that crinkle while we write
the vowels tell tales of yearning bodies that travel through the night
and on their trip the words become the story of our lives
together

The Last Visitor

2008-05-13T15:01:00.003-04:00

Inhale
Gospel music plays in the background.
- speak Lord, speak to me, I said speak to me -

She sits by the window, warming her tired shoulders in the setting summer sun. Her hands pick at the lint balls in the knit blanket lying across her legs. The worn edges tickle her ankles as she shifts in the recliner for comfort. The front window of the house has become her best friend. The children are grown, husband gone on so now loneliness sets in. The pane of glass displays moving images in the background of her reflection. She enjoys the movie with a new found exuberance. We find her smiling with the happy times and crying with the sad times along with the characters of her personal play. Soon, the old woman realizes that she is watching her own life flash before her eyes. Those same eyes fill with emotion and release water drops down her cheek.
She is not sad but instead righteous. She yearns to be with her Father for all of eternity. Tired now, she slowly walks to the bedroom and lies on the bed fitted with crisp white sheets.
In the front room, the movie reel continues on without an audience until the final frame fades to black in the warm summer night.
The flickering sounds wake the angel of death. He is the last visitor to this old woman and comes bearing gifts, a package containing Nana's last breath
Exhale.

Watch your Son Rise

2008-05-11T10:13:00.013-04:00

To my mother
grand and others
aunts, cousins, sisters
past and future lovers
I give this flower to you
In honor of your day
because without you
there would be no taure

- we live in harmony this flower and I
seed planted
watered; nurtured
plucked and pruned along the way
without your guidance or sunshine
there would be no taure
I am blessed to share your features, especially your eyes
so sit with me on the beach and witness
your SON rise

The Food 2.0

2008-05-10T15:29:00.002-04:00

The food we feed our children with has run out and the kids are now suffering from malnutrition of positive role models. The days of our youth being influenced by the likes of Martin and Malcolm, Louis and Langston are long lost because now, they are fed bullets and drama. Babies filled with holes, souls empty, left alone to grow up in a community whose foundation is cracked itself. We look around and see thousands of young empty eyes unaware that the future for them is dim because their street lights were turned out before they even took their first breath. The sounds of baby screams keep me up at night tossing and turning, yearning to give them some lyrical food to eat. I wake from another midnight slumber to the sounds of the corner and then walk to the window and stick out my pen to test the temperature. My front stoop houses legions of street doctors from the 80's smacking babies with jums and tons of bubble gum flavored needles. Mothers surround the block looking for government cock because their mates suffer from incarcerated fates that pay for lives with currency concurrently. Just another plan to eradicate the sons of Africa. Little footprints outlined in blood cover the ground leading from the bank of the river Jordan, baptized in holy water so rich in ignorance that the stains will last forever. We flash in front of them humorous images of part time idols and now the television is responsible for more children than we are. The internet is blowing up with messages to electric gods ROTFG! Pedophiles preying on the children of absentee parents fill the empty ballots of prepubescent minds. The blinds are pulled on child molesters disguised as superstars with their freakish habits. The limbs of a countless number of children remain in trunks of the last platinum superstar. Appetites for destruction leave the parents with confusion once the deed is done. The models created end up in front of us and we are like,
"Who the fuck are you?!"
The children raise their eyes up then tilt their head and answer
"I am what I am fed."
The Food-

true story

2008-05-03T14:40:00.009-04:00

she has a fast car..
driving around but can't get too far..
they always seem to stop at my door
with..
bags of insecure memories and totes full of shouldered burdens,
misconceived notions handed out by male oratory legends of lore
believing themselves to be gods
showing desire to be worshiped, catered to
telling tales of what's in store for you down the road..
if you just..
cosign for this credit card right here
and
baby please,
these jeans would look so good on me!!!
Bitch ass dudes
kicking game like they're the she
trading places for parking lot spaces
where the...
verbal garbage is parked on my street,
on my block
too many times she has used my steps as her last stop
and for real,
I am tired son
of patching up holes
your bullshit called home for so long
The hypocrisy is...
I was once like you...
full of premeditated dishonesty, trying to get what I need
..money, herb, the pussy
till I met, she
and she put it on me.. verbally ..
smoothly stating
One day this will all come back to haunt you
what if you had a daughter,
and some dude like you was kicking it to them
like she knew I was doing her...
hmmmm, I said with a rub of my chin,
shit was deep
I felt her, honestly...
we had a daughter
and I became the father
that all you broke ass dudes don't want to meet..

she had a freckle on her foot

2008-03-28T02:29:00.003-04:00

she had a freckle on her foot
- a twinkle in her eye
dimple on her thighs
a southern sassy style
she had me at...
well you know
caramel
with just a hint of Hershey kiss
stuck with a set of raspberry covered lips
damn sister
you got it going on
we got it on
she got me...
singing in the shower
washing off sweat from another
two hour
...love
making
experience
the ‘c’ and ‘e’ repeating over and over
like a drummer’s cymbal
kick, drum, snare, kick, kick, snare
we share
rock and roll lovemaking
pulling on her hair
pulling on towels
lounging on the sofa
I move her closer
then
she notices me staring
and says...
"leave me and my freckle alone..."
from what I remember
it was a cute little thing
perfectly placed
right below her ankle bone

my words heal

2008-03-28T02:14:00.007-04:00

the reflection of she wraps my entirety, and we hold one another for the sake of one another until our time exists no more...to settle the score she shoulders the weight of my soul on her bosom, forever nursing me back to whom I once was...
and I...
will forever surf the stars on the moonlight's tail; creating space for our love to touch...but fear not these words of absoluteness, for it is only I that truly knows the direction in which my heart grows...in the direction of forever...with just a pen and some paper

...my words

wine connoisseur

2008-03-28T02:08:00.003-04:00

to me…
you seem to be…
poured from a fine Pinot Noir
filled to the brim with ageless beauty
sometimes
I imagine this
before I
raise the glass
and
inhale the aroma before my lips
savoring the taste
d
r
i
p
p
i
n
g
from your waist
one
kiss
at
a
time

Boy With a Coin

2008-03-11T16:37:00.005-04:00

Good song and video
.......wanted to share..the woman dancing at the end reminds me of my mother.....
beautiful....anwar

Conference room daydreaming

2008-03-05T15:27:00.007-05:00

when I look in your direction
I hear..
..horns and strings orchestrated by angel's harps
such lovely arrangements
of melodies exist amidst
the profile of your body
the stares of curiosity bind my eyes
to mocha skin tickled by the morning sun
boricua, dominicana?
cape Verdean maybe......
the sounds you create
take me to space where my imagination has you as my Queen placed high atop our castle
you watch from the towers while I dash the spirits of dragons and suitors
that have mistaken your beauty as an open invitation for more than flirtation
then being overtaken in the midnight hours by your aromatic powers I rise to the occasion
and receive your soft lips against mine as a reward....our mouths touch...and I am awakened
by the woman I am dreaming of....
she rests her hand on mine...
I'm blinded from the brilliant shine coming from her ring finger
damn......
Have I been asleep that long?

Arch - Angel of Love

2008-02-24T21:51:00.005-05:00

words
spit
from attractive lips meant for Saturn’s moons
my empty vessel captures the calls from desires sister
want;need
become one with the woman that they came from
I stare and watch as
cupid shoots his bent arrows taken from invisible quivers
the sharp points
maliciously aimed towards my heart
near misses
become
cold kisses
and now I lay dead
betrayed by her love
once again

Poetic Biology

2008-02-18T00:00:00.002-05:00

I roll
Nina Simone bones
then exhale
poetic meter
spirits of my ancestors
grow through the hairs of my beard
and show my African features
high
cheek bones
wide set eyes
built like a small powerful creature
ink applied to skin
become dog eared pages of life
left to decipher by all you HIStory teachers

Love at first site

2008-02-17T23:52:00.003-05:00

........enter
she sits.........
beautiful African flower
with drops of autumn along her skin
short raven hair
my stares purposely
catch her attention
she glances as if to take a sniff
pauses
then purrs these words
I know guys like you
pursed lips
eyelids closing
as if to squash the last vowel in line
spirits of exes and soon to be next exes
sit firmly to her left and right
she explains that everyone has a two sided approach to life
speaks of eternal baggage
he, we and they become adage to her existence
over time
our conversation grows into a fire
burning down flammable inhibitions
then replaced by walls of unwavering persistence
soon
in so few words
she has me smitten with a zombie like affliction
my desire is to explore the inner depths of her mind
so I walk over close and place her hand in mine
within a dash of the third rail if my motives be in question
our time together
fast forwards to forever
where
I imagine us old; together still
her wizened hands
and fingers; long
gently plucking at the gray hairs on my arms
like petals on a lilly pad

tongue twisted

2008-02-17T23:46:00.001-05:00

they said
he said, she said
now time lies dead
stabbed through the tongue
with a pen

Adultery

2008-02-17T23:42:00.002-05:00

my love,
close your eyes and follow my voice
let me lead you to a place
- where our heartbeats
turn to footsteps along hidden paths of intimacy
moon rays bind your hips to mine
- lips touch
then destiny parts your legs
allowing me to taste from heaven’s river
grunts and groans from bare backed beasts
dragging knuckles along moist ground
release; rest
we dress
in silence
mouths
bound by secrecy and shattered commandments
our shame over taken by lust
now, the devil leaves us
and
my eternal withdrawals begin
I lose myself passing time
till I have to return you back
to your husband

Third eye turns to stone

2008-02-17T23:40:00.001-05:00

evenings spent
deciphering hidden inscriptions scribbled inside
worn sleeve of a rose colored book
my sin sumeya children play with fire
leaving remnants of leaf and stems
discarded on scorched forest floor
a single tree remains
as lonely as the moon that searches for companionship during dawn
I offer condolences through a finger wrapped embrace
dank smoke lies imprisoned inside the walls of human organs
then released through a reversal of fortune
repeat
then pass

Hypocrite

2008-02-17T23:35:00.002-05:00

have you ever gotten the feeling
that the person you were having a conversation with thought that they where sent from God?
like, their words to you about their own human struggle
contain messages or answers about your life
oratory measures taken; bound in an obsolete presence
listening to words from a lounge chair in outer space gives Heavenly directions from places never mentioned
the mental distance
the place where right and wrong struggle in a never ending battle
walls of trust built on common sense and reason battle with a soul dipped in treason
there must be a reason
for this change in season
or change in attitudes and moral complexes that exist as the nexus of immoral direction
listen
& understand the words of God and his Son
as they warm the spirit beyond the cold grasps of the devil’s hands
do as man has been directed to do
live and learn the great lessons in life
all it has to offer and take away
be as a ship
moored
docked for the long stay
not as the flag that lifts its head only when the wind blows
an action that the hypocrites all know

Línea negra

2007-12-14T13:35:00.000-05:00

tattoo of
vertical life
exists along
womb
nurturing
seeds inside
beautiful skin
I show you
a drawing
from the inside
Línea negra

my Sunrise-written in 3rdIperspektiv

2007-12-11T17:49:00.000-05:00

raven tinted luminescence
crawls across the horizon
lashes of light
open up
and kiss the velvet sky
virgin sunshine
offers herself to the indigo skyline
she leaves residue
of pomegranate along his smile
lusts pains
paint sage and purple streaks
where they once lay
orange meets bright white
as sunshine meets her peak
erupting
molten lava
life;bliss
she has risen
to seduce night
once again

D.S.T.

2007-12-10T17:16:00.000-05:00

Tick Tock Tick
Tock
Tick Tock
Tick Tock Tick
my life; enveloped with emotion
almost a strung out devotion
I was a junkie
hooked on this thing called
love
inhaled
cooked
snorted
injected
I found myself floating with those from above
but that time is gone now
replaced by one that heals
while it wears my soul down
the mountain in front of recovery
seems too high
I am taking a breather now
my arms are rested on my thighs
I start to move again
running
inhale
running faster
breathe out
halfway up the hill
I am now flailing my arms about
I reach the summit at full speed
take off like a bird
flapping wings so fast
the clock can’t be heard
Tick Tock Tick
Tock
Tick Tock
Tick Tock Tick
a little bit softer now……..
I am healed

poetic suicide

2007-12-07T22:27:00.000-05:00

I feel as though
my time here
is coming to an end
I want to leave
a final impression
for all of my friends
the jocks
the nerds
the suits
the straightedge
the hippies
the herbs
the skaters
the bikers
the gangsters
the clubbers
the hangout all niters
the multi-
national
cultural
biological
the women
the men
the preachers
the sinners
the saxophone
the violin
the drums
the bass
the turntable
the case
the lawyers
the doctors
the eyes
the face
of anyone that has crossed my path
heart left warmed by
water; life
casting long memories
no matter the sun’s height
my time on earth is over now
I can’t escape the inevitable
can’t hide or run
I am thirsty before I go
I make a drink
blue ink from a metal flask
pour; enjoy
tick; tock
time pasts
I drop to my knees
take up the pen
and squeeze
my final impression is left
all over the walls for everyone to see
poetic suicide

Something for you

2007-12-07T21:36:00.000-05:00

to think of you
is an unwrapped gift
anticipation builds.....nervousness is replaced by a smile
no matter what the lord puts between us
luggage, cities, countless miles
I will never forget the space that you occupy
I wish that forever I could hold your hand
wipe the tears when you cry
witness all of your problems disappear
when you need to talk, give you an ear
be your everything
or anything
if you like

She loves me, she loves me not

2007-12-01T10:08:00.000-05:00

Feel as I feel. Is that poetic?
is it possible for you to hear me through a sequence
of inaudible sounds shaped into frequencies
that bring my spirit into your world
beckoning me like the Sirens of Odysseus
intoxicating me with the allure of your spirit
just to crash my hopes and desires on the hidden beaches
and cavernous caves surrounding the entrance to your heart
once loved but now scorned; feelings
scorched like the world’s southern most desert
lips dry
parched flesh
yearning for the afternoon oasis of kisses to set your heart aflame
our love is coarse and dry like the ram’s fur of Aries
never escaping the desire to be together
but hating the time when we are

BONNIE & CLYDE::by anwar::ekphrastic

2007-11-26T11:48:00.002-05:00

good night:painting by andrew nichols
BONNIE & CLYDE::by anwar
a poem of epic proportions

Bonnie couldn’t figure out what was taking Clyde so long to come out of there.
She had begun to worry that he may have been shot. "God damn it Clyde!!!", she screams as she slams on the gas pedal of the silver 745. She sends the car flying into the intersection in front of the bank and then pulls hard on the emergency brake. "Now spin the wheel hard to the right", she can hear him say inside of her head. "I know damn it", she says to herself being as stubborn as usual. She always hates it when he tells her how to drive, especially in the quarter to eight. This is her ride and she has it sitting parallel to the bank and the police barricade outside of the bank. Bonnie has blocked the entryway so that someone can only enter or exit through the rear door of the car. She climbs into the back seat and pushes down on a button in the middle console. A compartment opens up and reveals two high-powered automatic rifles, two nine millimeters and a few grenades. A smile of exctacy pours over her face. It shows that she gets off on this, a lot. This spur of the moment thrill this bank-robbing ride to hell and back, anything goes for her man and she was ready to do that now. No FBI, no police, no snipers, no one, will keep her from getting the man of her life and the love that keeps them whole.

See, Bonnie & Clyde, they both share an unwavering lust for the money and all things that come from it. They have blazed up and down the East Coast through banks and holding houses of some of the areas finest institutions. Now they have hit the mother load, the Federal Reserve Bank sitting right in the middle of Boston’s financial district. They had picked this final job together, a first. Clyde always called the shots so Bonnie was happy when he approached her about planning it out with him. Clyde called it the payoff of a lifetime, because of the location. One highway, with both north and south access directly in front of the building, waterways three hundred yards behind the building and then, there is the train station. Placed 100 feet away from the front door of Boston’s moneymaking machine, lies one of the largest spider webs of public transportation known to man. Its called South Station. With rail lines and bus lines going to over 1000 places every hour on the hour then not to mention three extra lines for the local community, this station stacked up to most in the country. What it lacked in size, it provided in confusion to anyone not aware of its many tunnels and schedules available. Both things necessary to those that not only wanted to remove themselves from the vicinity in a very short amount of time but also cause as much confusion as possible when doing it. This was their planned method of escape. Bonnie planned it that way.

Instead, Bonnie finds herself in the backseat of the car loading shells into her pump shotgun and trying to calm her breathing down before she pulls on the bullet proof vest. She silently goes about her tasks as chaos exists outside the vehicle. The snipers have positioned themselves to take a shot as soon as she steps out of the vehicle. The car is wrapped in bulletproof glass so they’d be wasting their shots before they needed to. The snipers don’t know that so she plays a game of cat of and mouse with them. After her bullet proof vest is on, she pops open the door and then slams it closed really quickly. Instantly a two-inch bullet ricochets off the side of the glass where she is lying. Bonnie pops her head up and then a second bullet ricochets off of the roof. "Ok ", she says to herself, "that’s was 4.7 seconds". 4.7 seconds, to get out of the car and into the building before the snipers explode her head with one of their bullets. The door is two yards away; the snipers are reloading and aiming, waiting for the next shot. Bonnie takes her weapons in hand, kicks open the left door with the butt of the gun and then opens the door on the right with her free hand. Bonnie hears the first shot ping off of the ground right outside of the left door. They fell for her bait. 4.7 seconds she dashes out of the right door, 4.3 seconds sniper’s bullet leaves gun, 3.9 seconds the door of the bank is open, 3 seconds the bullet enters Bonnie’s right foot and exits through her left knee cap. She lets out a scream as she falls into the doorway. Her body seems lifeless, teetering on the doorjamb, half in and half out lies in plain view of the TV cameras. Every detail is caught on film and the entire country has been watching this standoff live from their living rooms. Now they watch another drama within the one that has captivated them for over an hour. They sit and watch as a convicted killer and bank robber fights for her life and crawls to find her lover…..

"Bonnie!!!!", Clyde screams as he hears the next shot. Bonnie lies there in a pool of blood and Clyde runs over to her in his futile attempt to save her from eternal demise. He runs over to the doorway and is hit with a sniper bullet in the left thigh. The second pierces his heart. It renders him motionless for a fraction of a second. The force of the bullet drives him down to the ground and he lay there, pinned to the cold marble floor of the Federal Reserve Bank. Bonnie reaches over to her lover and they pull into each other’s arms. Coughing blood and retching violently, breathing her last breaths she utters these words………………

my dear Clyde
our time has come
such a beautiful ride
the money was endless
but the thrills aside
I had more fun showing you
that I am a down ass chick
through all thin and thick
for you and us…...oooh in this I only trust
I will stand by your side
till the day I die
or we die together
our blood splatters forever
remain on the concrete of which we lay
people in the future will speak about this day
the time they witnessed true love with no bounds
in these final words my love can be found
I am happy and finally content
my head finally resting where it needs to be
In your arms
for all of eternity....…….. exit

always and forever - ekphrastic: poem by anwar::art by henry lee battle

2007-11-24T13:38:00.000-05:00

my vows that day:
I have loved you since
the first day we met
the second time we kissed
the third time we fell in love
the fourth time is this
it is an honor
as my heart grows fonder
to take you as my wife
not till tomorrow
but for the rest of.......

......my life
forever changed when
rings twisted
betwixt our essence
intertwining lips to commence
our union under heaven’s
blessings
smiles & bulbs
flashing
hop over broom
feet; legs dashing
nervousness replaced by
eternal happiness
fast forward to
a picture of this
honeymoon bliss
bodies locked tightly
fire breathes deeply along your hips
release the passion from within
exploding
gushing; rushing
touching your lips again
rapture draws me in
our breathing
combined in perfect harmony
inhale
…
exhale
…
we live together in the arms of destiny
always and forever
that’s what this love means to me

Only a matter time before you get it

2007-11-13T15:31:00.000-05:00

click clack
the sound made
when pulling back the trigger
on a 50-desert eagle
see this weapon
is specially
manufactured to move another bullet
into the chamber
before the last one
has exited the gun
sound like fun?
ever shoot a hand cannon
in a crowds direction
watch the bullet
change
colors as it
smashes through stone
children’s bone
then finally
leaving someone’s dome
all over the cement
the gory stuff
we haven’t even got to yet

click clack
the sound made
when
bullet leaves nose
of my
metal life switch
I love to turn niggas lights out
sometimes at the same time
I can get him and his bitch
save time/save bullets
just walk up on em
take out the steel
and use it
bullet enters body
severs tendons
moves around the chest cavity
searching for an exit
hits the chick beside dude
she’s laying beside him
I am already jettin

click clack
the sound made
by the gun put to rest
placed up under my arm
inside the bullet proof vest
click clack packed away neat
I can feel the heat
from another spent shell
I am addicted to that
noxious sulfur smell
the night comes again
the huge moon pumps me up
for some more
innocent
citizen
killin
walk the streets
searching for more
unsuspecting peeps
mission accomplished
I don’t feel like running
I need a ride
see a black sedan on the corner
idling
someone sitting inside
word
their loss of life
not mine

click clack

don’t move
or we’ll blow your fucking head off

clack click

the police have me surrounded
following a tip
from a nosy neighbor
for two days
the sedan outside my apartment
been watching my behavior
report reads:
perp leaves by 7
returns by 9
walks with a limp or something
drags his left leg behind
consider him armed and dangerous
and keep this in mind
murders been committed by
a 50 cal desert eagle
this type of weapon
can blow off a grown man’s knees
before you finish a sneeze

don’t move
or we’ll blow your fucking head off

well
blow it off then
aint no way in he world
I will spend a day in the pen
from my 50
I unleash a volley of bullets
click clack
click clack
click clack
the police and D.T.’s
fall dead
sporting
peekaboo
holes from chest to back
click clack
click clack
click clack
sirens, screams, flash of light

clack click

oh shit
I think that I am hit
cops move in
you aint taking me alive, I scream
then
I hear the last

Click

when
gun explodes in mouth like fireworks
cops start to yell
too late, you pigs
my soul forever
click clacks
in Hell

First date

2007-11-13T15:15:00.000-05:00

"My favorite color is yellow"
she says
through her wicked smile
the awkward miles have been passed by
through conversation and laughter
as we speak and move together
my heart races faster
should I.......
or should I wait
- wait - conscience replies
the result will be better -
so in my patience I reside
then something happens
did she just.....
was that a......
am I seeing things…..
yep......
it was…
I think she was just checking me out
an innocent glance no less
but one for me to count
hopefully to be followed by many more
her profile
invite my courting words
her lips
move in time
her spirit
matches mine
she has me smitten
yes I wrote that last line
it wasn’t a Freudian slip
I mean what I say
no matter when I am saying it
morning
noon or
8pm at night
she takes a left and
another left
my house on the right
"why do I want to go home"
the answer should be easy
the reason is something
that I did not want to risk
going another minute
without having your
lips
to
kiss

(v/a) -::last words of an abused child::-

2007-10-25T11:12:00.000-04:00

I don’t want to die
but I’m going to
I mean
mom and dad didn’t like me that much anyway
during youth
consistently reminded
with
backhand slaps
forward kicks
forceful terms of endearment
my favorite
- I wish that you would walk down the street and get hit by a car -
through time I found that
I didn’t need to walk far
everyday
an 18-wheeler jackknifed inside my living room
spewing garbage
gifts of true voice
feelings; unwrapped
from: mom and dad written on the side
all because I reminded them of
- the hard times
each stomp and scream
would really mean
- boy I wish you were never born
I’m tired of working four jobs
my feet got corns -
daddy never really came home
he was too ashamed; frustrated
that I couldn’t be another woman for him to beat
I had to be a son
whenever daddy did come home
he would knock me on my head with a beer bottle
and mom would laugh as I pick up my teeth
place them inside my pocket
I would look towards the front door
wishing to be
outside
instead
inside
darkness resides
their words:
I hate you
if you had stayed inside
I
I
I would have
elevated my mind
smoked weed
bought cars and dresses
spread around my seeds
but no,
here you come
with a big ass head
looking like your mother
wish I could bust you in the face
like I do her
but you aint worth it
fact is
you aint worth shit
stuff on the bottom of my shoe
that’s what I got for you and your ass
with a little heel for some added class
thanks
mom and dad
for taking out on me
what you couldn’t see
wasn’t my fault at all
your words
helped me grow into
the animal that I am today
I see you in the crowd
not even looking my way
can’t you see
the lives that I took
where in honor of you
just trying to get attention
like when I was a kid
you would’ve been proud of my murderous rampage
the burning memories of a child
used as fuel to excite fear into victims
before the final knife thrust
in death I trust
so I sit still in the face of it
even in this electric chair
I learned from you
that I should never shed a tear
so I don’t
forever set up in jail
big guy over there
wearing the blue
wry smile
bout to hit the juice
send my soul to Lucifer
thrown into the eternal fire
20 murders
paid in full
all with one pull of the switch
my body
shocked
then
violent
twitch
my life ended
just as mom and dad wanted
papers read
Monster executed this morning at 10:22
to his murders he gave no excuse
I couldn’t read it
lost my eyesight
from years of your Verbal Abuse

rollover sex

2007-10-16T14:46:00.001-04:00

10:31pm
I am dreaming
white capped waves
smashing against stone enclaves
engorged peach
juices trickling down cheek
strawberry and cherry Jell-O kisses
topped with whipped cream; chocolate chips
frozen ice melts on nips
forming wrinkles around tightened skin
hairs stand straight on end
sweat mixing in
with silk and latex
air fills with aroma of
beautiful sex
brown and black
mixing
twisting
biting
backs
toes
arched
internal fire
spark
external moans
waves through bones
repetitive body shudders
words in foreign tongues
uttered
a sickness
caused by
the rushing
water sloshing
gushing feeling
of sweet
release
cum remnants
freed from their dark prison
traveling down knee
shared with wet sheets
seconds pass by as
heat rises inside loins
of captive vessels
chin firmly nestled in shoulder
resting; nuzzled
breast shoved into chest muscle
gasps of air
paint pillows with
auburn shades of wet matted hair
the spider webs locks
tie hands and arms
into upright positions
legs create playboy shadows on walls
in this rollover free for all
your touch stirs me
your wetness
frees the beast inside
next scene
seems like
drummer enters room
flesh being beat upon
brat a tat tat
brat a tat tat
tat a tat brat
start remixing the track
headboard cracks
bed falls
we fall
clock falls
damn
it reads
12:31am

Whispers from the trees

2007-10-12T20:13:00.000-04:00

sitting in class, reading through a history book
I find myself drowning in handed down university gossip
it seems as if historians and presidents shined lights on our past’s shadows
leaving entire passages whited out
our words washed away
fibrous
blood stained
splattered; stretched ropes remain
formed into nooses once used to release spirit from anything black
dark flesh rots
ripped; torn apart
on the bark of trees bearing negro fruit
the trees limbs so laden with innocent souls that
lifeless toes touch blades of grass on their ascent to heaven
I sit in my chair under the arch created by the hanging tree
and search around looking for messages dropped to the ground
from hands clenched tight together; holding onto their last breath
pain riveting from the neck down to their blood stained coverings
I am listening to the trees’ whispers
uttering
last prayers of the dying
free me
free me
oh heavenly Father
free me from this place
where my skin color has become the measurement of my livelihood
I look around and find spots of blood
remnants left over
from post mortem beatings
not red but purple stains remain
the type of blood that exists only inside the veins of royalty
those of my past’s kings and queens
now reduced to a slave mentality
lifeless bodies hung on trees to catch the summer breeze
left in a way
to teach dem other negros lessons about wanting to be free
that’s what the massa say
well now massa is telling me another story
he teaches democracy
and how it has always existed for the right of human beings
he goes onto say
we will enforce democracy
like
the pilgrim’s thanksgiving on plymouth rock
and stuff it down the throats of anyone not willing to eat our words of subjugation
well
subjected we were
to plantations
tilling mother earth’s creation
until finally
raping her of the opportunity to grow us out of here
here
in
this
foreign country
this
place
we once never knew of
a mind will always revolt unnatural surroundings
what you called disobedience
our ancestors called
survival of the quickest
I turn the page in my history book
and find it blank
my pen starts to write a new history passage
recycled words dropped onto the soil that my ancestors watered with their own
blood; sweat
urine; tears
from bodies hung in the summer breeze
becoming fertilizer for our future
producing Whispers from the trees