Skip to main content

I (hope)

I hope whatever it is you're looking for,
You find.
I hope the sun shines a sheen
Not a brine.
I hope the way he touches
Tortures you,
The way that your touch, mine.
I hope like say this will all heal,
in time.

I hope he eats his food as starving,
Like a child you must be.
I never wanted anything but to be happy,
Wild,
Free.
I guess i took the truth for granted,
That what you get is what you see,
I hope the sea moves you away
so far awaaay from me.

I cannot breathe with your face so freshly in my mind,
You haunt,
You get all the best halves of my life
And I'd give you all (the other halves)
Just to be intertwined
With the Man who told me
That i was the one thing he thought he'd never find.

Am i fooling myself,
Against the world,
Thinking you are blind?
Am i running like a death told train,
On lonely borrowed time,
I hope that all the things you are are not what i'm meant to find.

Because i have to let you,
Put this running wolf on road
Because if I stay i'm scared of the rest of me that's bound to be left behind.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Old Earth

For the longest time, we called you the moon Because from where we could see You looked abandoned And blue Like nighttime We thought we understood how you felt Another room In a home That was a notch on our belt So we burned up the oceans And drowned out our skies Until even the islands began to Become dry And suddenly soon We'll stand crying over valleys abandoned and blue With a far, new born, planet Calling us moon. 
Post a Comment
Read more

A Shake In The Matter.

Have you ever had the thought, ‘If I were white, how different my experience would be. How much more opportunity I would’ve had. How much less stress and anxiety I might experience. How much more attention and validation I might’ve received. How much more money I might have made. How much more acceptance I might’ve felt. How much more ease with which I might’ve moved through the world without fear?’ Imagine that, an existence not governed by fear. And how not once would I have had to think about any of it. Because it would’ve just been there. Been a part of the truth. The air. There would be no space to move through because of the intrinsic ownership granted in the space in which I was, simply because I am. No guessing. No adjusting. Just fully taking up whole space wherever I went. So maybe this idea of white fragility, white questioning, white discomfort, white supremacy is actually good for all of us to experience and see. To have the switch flipped. For everyone to get even just a...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Sunny Spot.

Sunny runs Lenox Fast Food breakfast spot in Central Harlem. He and his beautiful wife, And Fernando, Run the spot on Lenox Ave, Just below 143rd St. Next to a bar called 'A Touch of Dee'.  They serve plates, Fried fish, Coffee with milk or half 'n' half only... And cheese grits.  Everyone orders the cheese grits. I've never had them, But secretly, always want to try them.  The waffles are toaster waffles, And come in 2 sizes:  Regular and silver dollar.  There are tins ready with butter, Prepped bacon, And these little metal bowls, That Fernando has on hand to mix your eggs.  Which he folds with precision and skill. In the back of this narrow, Black-painted-walled hole in the wall (the kinda spot my Dad would love), On this block of Lenox Ave., There is a picture of Obama- maybe from 2008. On the wall next to the "If someone is choking" sign. Today a man, Much taller than me, With a smile and energy that could light up NY, A man who Sunny knew by name, Wa...
Post a Comment
Read more