Betrayal I heard my name The name she said yesterday with affection The name she said followed by thank you and I love you The name my friend of so many years called me She called my name And I came I came to her aid Every time she called She is dying now She is counting days I am by her side I help her I help…
Monthly Archives :
September 2017
Can I fix my broken doll Find the missing parts Shall I look for what is wrong Take her all apart? There have been so many Who have conjectured, posed and said But, really, who’s to know Lest we open up her head There have been a few Perhaps at times a lot Who struggled with with desire To fix her tangled plot But knotted up she is Not quite…
Air Cannot get enough air I’ve taken too much of the air in the room The space in the room My voice is too loud My ideas are too big My opinions are too many My dresses are too pretty My gifts are too often My sins are too awful My pain is too abysmal My head is too squirrelly My path is too crooked My journey is too confused …
I have no clue as to why, but one of the places I’ve wished to see this lifetime is Chicago. It is a metropolis; a city of stories, a city of so many films, of city of character….I wanted to touch it and make it tangible. And so I did, September 2017 I took a short trip to visit. Of course, what can you learn in a short visit? Not…
I didn’t get the memo I didn’t get the note I didn’t get anything that anyone ever wrote Telling me that I should put everything quite further down Never let my face turn into a crumpled frown smile right now young lady chipper chipper be happy up yourself and smile for everyone to see I didn’t get the memo I didn’t get the note I didn’t get whatever somebody must’ve…
This is a story I wrote from a story told to me: A story from yesterday…my Friend’s story: I have a dear friend whom I’ve never met. He and I both wake at 3:30-4:00 am, and we exchange morning texts of greetings and good wishes. Sometimes we chat and share stories. My friend lives in Florida where he retired. He is originally from New York. We met through a Facebook…
Parts I, III and IV – Subject Private Part I I am nobody’s child. That makes me no one. That makes me feel like a nothing. If I am a nothing, I can do anything without consequence. I have been fucked by life, therefore, fuck you too. I was no one to love. I was a boy. I was six. I can see me in my mind’s eye. …
The Bridge and The Boy Rash was a young man of mixed emotions, mixed explosions, mixed devotions. He was 19 and just beginning to figure out who he was. At that moment in his life, he was neither fish nor fowl…he was not a man but not a boy. Rash was growing into the fullness of who he would carve himself out to be, however, at 19 he was…
Can I fix my broken doll Find the missing parts Shall I look for what is wrong Take her all apart? There have been so many Who have conjectured, posed and said But, really, who’s to know Lest we open up her head There have been a few Perhaps at times a lot Who struggled with with desire To fix her tangled plot But knotted up she is Not quite…