28/30 Culturati

what it must be like

to come from nothing

to come from leaving

to come from arriving

to come from I belong here

that must be real nice

real nice

27/30 Simulacrum - a slight unreal superficial likeness

those times we finish each others sentences

I think, this is a good thing, the way we can think

along the same lines draw the same conclusions

in all our yellow and purple

we move, awkward dancers, to a beat we created

without talking we move and the world diassapears 

we are all that exists and we waste nothing

especially the silences

I tell you I love you and your skin changes

becomes cold to the touch so afraid of

wanting the same things I want because maybe you

want it more I can see it in the crooked of you smile

these days we dance not with but around each other

questioning everything so different from yesterday

when our hearts tapped out the same shudder steps

in sync

26/30 Veridical

if we are to believe that the things we

hear are truer than the things we see

we have not evolved in all the ways we think

my eyes are my truest barometers they detect

the truth in seeing is believing

but this world has lost sight of vision

we are now to see and not believe the truth it's toungue

in our mouths begging for validation

if only there was such a thing as opend mouthed

honesty, just say what the thing is

own the bullets and the beatings

strike your chest say it was what you intended

say you are afraid 

say, you can't imagine a people so beat down

would never respond the same way you do

say, you don't trust that if they had the chance

they wouldn't sell you away from you family

wouldn't serve you blankets full of disease

wouldn't shoot you in the back

wouldn't starve your people, walk them off cliffs

say, you don't believe they wouldn't take

the land you stole back

mark you immigrant

demand you show your papers

demand you take your lady liberty and leave

say, you don't believe in middle passage promises

say, you don't believe they won't retaliate

your fear isn't really the people you stole from

in the form of land, life and freedom

your fear is that they are as inherently evil as you

have always been

and you can't imagine that they wouldn't 

do the same to you

25/30 Maudlin

another black man committed suicide 

today well it was accidentally on purpose

his back broken surrounded by blue

but he did it to himself isn't that the way 

it happens always every 28 minutes

in America those magic hued thugs

those escape artists the way they shoot 

themselves in the faces while hands cuffed 

behind their backs not smoke and mirrors but

some other kind of magic they try to convince

us don't exist the cameras roll

they so magic we don't believe our eyes

we have so many question like

why they be breaking their own backs

why they be shooting themselves in the back

never once but multiple

why your wallets look like guns

why is it that after you're shot dead

you still gotta be handcuffed

how do you hold your breath so long 

you can no longer breath

we saw the video just don't believe our eyes

so good those officers hugged you

goodbye who needs evidence

when you live in a land surrounded

by all that blue

24/30 Cacophonous

the smell of burning covers everything

including the truth and terror of it all

our hands heavy with regret tremble

tambourine a sound that hurts our ears

we are listening for a change that never 

seems to arrive our feet to busy running

in circles we are dizzy with media spin

false truths dressed in a blue the color of bullets

most days the privilege is so loud 

it drowns out everything darker

than the weight of white causes our

teeth to hurt from all the artificial

we wear the noise around our necks

boots with traction hold us in place

threats of protection shake us from our skin

and the noise of it all leaves us deaf and staggering

23/30 Rules

it is 2015 and I am still setting

boundaries that should be understood

explaining how I am no object

not here for your admiration or touch

I am not an extension of your greedy hands

my hands should have never left the

safety of my side fingers clinched

refusing to be produce am I ripe enough yet

the hands should have never raised to

shove you away I gave up pugilism years ago

the only living witness the cashier and the 

hair growing from my head the bouquet of flowers 

drooped when my hands gave in 

the clock on the wall confused that this is still happening 

do we still live in a time where people are inspected like cattle

her name was Regina red script on a badge

attached to her heart she never wanted to see this

never wanted to share her frown pretended your

white privilege had nothing to do with the freedom

of your hands on my black body

here eyes say I would never do anything like that

though she is doing it by holding her tongue

weighing if I'm worth her fucking tip

the stale smell of your breath on my face

as you tell me how pretty my hair is

because how could I know if you didn't say

the taste of violation as I suck my teeth

consider for a moment slapping the tongue from your mouth

the sight and feel of hands, not mine roaming my body

the sound of colonization

only I know why I sequestered my inner pugilist

my attempt to avoid jail time and hash-tags

I remind my children they are bigger than that

don't lower yourself to the levels of others

but defend yourself if you are attacked

your hands on my body without my 

permission is an attack

I keep this knowledge in my palms

the last time I lifted my hands to push 

another person away next time my words will

singe more than the aftermath of parchment

thirsty to fill you with the knowledge

to keep your damn hands to yourself

22/30 On Art #2 (found collaboration with educators)

I dream a dream where every child of every hue

picks up a pen or perhaps a paint brush to

create a world where fear does not exist.

Inspire the next generation to think outside the box.

Nourishing the soul, an important form

of self-expression, feeling good and lifting spirits.

Truth and beauty – the biggest of pictures.

The arts are real dreams that become imagination.

An understanding of the importance of Art in their

Everyday lives. All kids; all the time.

To broaden a child’s horizon, open a whole new world,

free to experience joy with open minds.

Education is the key to unlock the artist inside of every

child. Watch the world change through their eyes.

Removing limits allowing dreams to live out loud

Free to chase their expression and connect with the world.

21/30 On Art #1 (found collaboration with educators)

to open the minds of children,

that they may open their spirits

dance to act out feelings and emotions,

while exploring their edge

vital vittles, those nourishing sounds,

sights, movements, songs,

without these flourishes life

feels desolate and stifled

unleash the freedom to allow what makes you

you

a hook where you can hang your emotions

inspired to think beyond the analytical

inviting the element of whimsy to your day to day

deepening experiences, breeding creativity

wrapped in courage our vision balanced

by diversity and beauty

as necessary as food or water

the arts energize and engage

art as a creative outlet

art as life

20/30 Bunkum

throat cleared podium addressed

he touts the treasure beneath his tongue

promised all that can be noted 

return to sender 

pay due upon reciept

move along nothing to see here

what rights

you don't need no stinking rights

nothing but love for you and your ilk

vote for me you'll see

how well I can spin for you

in and out of control

up and down the topics

gimmie that baby

I got a kiss for it

19/30 Grubstake

the years of preperation

the struggle and pull of emotions

allowing forward movement

we came here by accident

telling tales of a trip we took

that neither of us remembers

not for lack of trying rather

it hurts too much to stare

this kind of dissappointment

in the face

I promise you this if you would

just leave, pack your shadow and go

I will grubstake you this resentment

wrapped in the lace you stole from 

your ex lover's coffin

18/30 Schlemiel

I've never felt so clueless

so out of luck the way it

never seems to go the way 

I think it should

no happiliy ever after no

silver linings to destract me

from the fact that you have

the amazing ability to make 

me feel stupid whenever you are near

maybe it's not a feeling 

maybe it's the truth 

and maybe this is my cue to depart

before the mean girl in you shows her face

and I forget for a minute that I don't

punch people anymore and forget

for a minute and forgot

I am always attracted to things and people

that cause more pain than joy never

really sure of what's happening

navigating niceties and lies

mine fields where they don't need to be

like we don't need to be

but I'm always a handy placeholder

the person you pretend with until

you can pretend with someone 

who overlooks the things you know

I can see, and I stay sometimes

refusing to believe I've held

someone so shallow in my mouth

17/30 Argot

sitting behind a desk

arranging figures that will not

increase your holdings

clocking time on things you hate

washing away in all the monotany

you don't want to be here and can't leave at the same time

hair on fire for something different for a change 

something exciting 

something that can hold your attention

i once thought this was my passion

this 9-5 this note and mortgage

but I am just living to pay things off

things I have no time to enjoy

things that remind me of debt

and all that I am missing

16/30 derringer-do

So, it will end the way it began 

full of confusion guts and guns 

a people attempting to survive 

while others hunt them down 

in the wildreness they call home 

tears spent 

no change 

fear festering in secret 

only to out themselves 

become bigger prey 

a party we were never invited to 

this way of men and their games 

play reguardless of the consequences 

blanks or live fire 

the only thing that matters 

is winning all day everyday 

if infiltrated turn inwards 

hold yourself hostage 

ransom note your own obituary 

photoshop your own tombstone 

create a new club in the afterlife

15/30 Ode to My Hands ( Teen Slam Prompt)

on the days when my hands feel to light for my body

fingers fluttering remembering a time when they were wings

could catch the wind push away from the earth

get closer to the sky that birthed me

holding church with the clouds listening to 

the songs played by nature's choir bird song

and lightly falling rain

or the times when I feel so angry

that my hands my fly away betray my

latent pugilistic ways causing pain

in a physical way an action I no longer believe in

I believe in the love in my palms

no matter how much this world begs me to fight back

sometimes they dangle wanting to be raised in protest

fisted punching the sky chanting freedom songs

and holding hands with others who believe in the same 

justice if only for a little while

they are my favorite part of me these hands

so when I take them out on the town I dress them up in shine

seven rings for ten fingers not because I neglect the other three

but because it's just the right shine

14/30 Caseous

the shape of your mouth 

always open always moving

so hungry for the thing you want most

who pays to live a lie?

a walking contridiction

a fast forward lie

when making cheese

make sure that the ingredients are fresh

don't mix your truthes and falsehoods together

you don't want their tastes easily identified

don't want to be found out before you are ready

make sure the burn is slow

when you are finished with your masterpiece

the tasting can begin the mixture

spread over every surface

so when tasted every imperfection

is perfect every nuance unclear

follow it with spiked wine

and let the critics know

this is what you wanted it to be

13/30 PEMDAS

sloping scapula

skin all right angles

an algorithm of fingers stroking

a pebble clit

centrifugal force of thighs

across the moonbow of your ribs

accelerated heartbeat 

gravitational pull of eyes

glaciers of venom flowing through veins

a sweep of spine

making me math the orgasams add up

please excuse my damn accute stimulation

or not

12/30 Breaking Old Habits

The past stares back wide eyed

dares me to move forward

dares me to change my blues to gold

my squares to diamonds in the sky

the past his yellow hands his fake tears

push at the tender places buried in my chest

makes mines of memories

expects me to blow my chances

now he's mad afraid I'll find my pulse

afraid I'll start showing uo pn my own reflection

never seen me this strong before

so complete and willing to cut ties

he tried to feed me chaos and stagnation

tried to convince me my anger was misplaced

and a sign of weakness

didn't think I'd scrape myself off dingy walls

stand in my own green and grow

I told him you should not be here

you are what happened already take your prize

and get the fuck on

because this girl has new floors

she's walking back straight these days

the only thing straight about her

she's got shyt to do with people 

who are about doing new shyt 

and he need to stay in his place

behind her

11/30 Polyglot

you tell me you love me

and I hear it with my entire face

feel it between my teeth

you love me

that's what you said and I believe

the language new to my tongue accepts

wants to be accepted I hang on your word

like laundry on a line clip rooted

swaying in the spring breeze

until I realize that what you 

are not saying is what I should be

listening to, how I am not a part 

of the parts that mean more than

fleeting, more than maybe one day

the fool in me recognizes the misstep

remembers doing this before

remembers how much it hurt

everywhere

all the time

10/30 Brume

the air is heavy today

so full of contidictions

and disconnected thought

I try my best to rise from it

to refuse the fog desperate to conceal 

the things we wish we could unsee

knowing the danger in that

we sit rooted to the spot

watching our right to life

dwindle with every trigger pull

if the air was more brume

maybe we wouldn't see the blue line

they cross as they claim victory

legal thug runners holding 

starter pistols aimed

not at the sky but at the

invisible visible targets painted

on our chests

our backs

our heads

I remember a time when 

officer friendly was more clear 

when he showed up in class

for career day taking a bite out

of crime these days he is more

officer questionable

like do I call when I need help

only to be chalk outline after you arrive

I knew a black boy once

who when asked what 

he wanted to be when he grew up

stood tall and proud said

officer of the law standing at attention

these days, though he never

thought it would be his career 

all he wants to be when he grows up

and the fog lifts

is alive

9/30 Dysphemism

you change your tone but the message is clear

you take issue with my being 

as an act of rebellion

how dare me continue to live my life by my terms

there is an absence so accustomed to you not being there

when you actually show there is no room big enough

to disappear you back to non existent, to daydream

or nightmare fantasy you wear on me like concrete shoes

a size to small and the wrong color

8/30 Badinage

1

my pick up line was unrehearsed

a sad attempt to win your smile

the furrow of your brow made me think 

I fucked up, misjudged your interest

but you were just thinking

I love a woman who thinks

the slow drag of your eyes on my frame

measuring me made my shirt tight

my body liked your body back

my clumsy line your face a round glow

my favorite smile decorates your face

I win

2

our rivers find new banks to rest by fall

our love a different thing we know the winds

will blow us in each others path again

each time the first time

you get all of my twisted jokes

and I love the way you growl in frustration

our kisses linger over everything

we are no strangers to the strange that is us

on any given Wednesday

your smile still a balm

and my favorite place to visit

7/30 Diddle

the idea that you are still out there

snatching rugs disquised as future from children

who should have been warned

and parents who should have researched

figured out why you are so cheap

that anything at that price is not worth it 

take their babies to some place real

instead of a place where those

who saw it in its prime 

throw tears like tantrums at the sight of the place

that kept them full on words and wisdom

turned third world question mark

their childhoods tainted in a forward kind of way

they vow never to return

when profit at any price

became you mantra we knew

it was over tried to warn the others

but there will always be someone out there

desperate enought to believe the lie

you dress up like last decades best kept secret

reciepts left on so it can be returned

they will never get what they need here

but then again 

you get what you pay for

6/30 Panopoly

the curtains match nothing in the room

they hang limp and disinterested

closed mouthed and full of remorse

blind to the implications

this room so dark holds more than memory

a showplace, a stage where we perform

the self-hate programed so deep in some

the need to share overwhelms

I read a statement that suggests black women

boycott a music man because the woman he loves

is not black enough for him

but she is black enough to judge based on her color

this room in this world that tells black women

we are not enough, too dark to be taken seriously

we recycle the brown bag test history says we've failed

to tell our sisters they are not dark enough for someone else

so much irony, so many bodies discounted

yet you, create new rules around every corner

and dictionary are to cumbersome to use

to find the definition of this level of ignorance

where should we hang the signs, black woman

the signs that read not dark enough for this fountain

where will we offer the shade test for the right brown or black

will it be the same color as these ugly ass curtains

in the background of this story is a man some man 

with a women he chose while some other woman 

decides that their love could not be as black 

as her love for a man she will never know

like this room doesn't hold a history of not enough

walls we have tried to scale for centuries

no more back of the bus we have turned our skill

to throwing our sisters under them

the first lady says black girls rock 

while white women insert themselve in something

that is not about them and you fix your mouth

to insinuate that some black is too light to rock

this ugly room so dark that no shade of black 

can be identified just black we all black women here just black

what are you using as litmus how many levels of hate

are you trying to escavate and am I the next to not be black enough

maybe these curtains do match something in this room

5/30 Oology

pollen covers everything

refusing to give up the throne that is my porch

I wipe the yellow dust from the table surface

wash my hands so as not to rub the dust in my eyes

a spring habit as nature spews her love all over
my eyes catch sight of our porch dweller

the bird who thrice tried to build her nest 

above our door rests, nest-less 

on the ledge of a column above the grill

she is not there every night

only when weather threatens to happen

tonight the clouds with their dark temper

stomp across a starless sky

there is a pang of guilt in the moment

but it passes quickly

I know the nature of mothers

know that if she had built her nest 

in that location when the eggs hatched 

we would not be able to pass without attack

protecting home and hearth is what most mothers do

I do not believe she is haunting me

she is not Poe's raven quoting the same word

over and over in an attempt to rid me of my sanity

but I wonder, if my removal of her attempts

to create a home for her one day eggs robbed her

of a family then I wonder if it's the males who build the nest

and I have mis-gendered this bird as well as

leaving it homeless

there are so many trees nearby

wouldn't trees be better real estate 

for winged ones to occupy 

isn't that where birds should build

not on a porch over the grill that will soon bellow smoke

and the sizzle of meat 

4/30 Ummm...

and I could even when I know I should not

hold that thing in the palm of my hands make 

it do what it do

I could, but I won't 

there are limits to my debauchery

and even though I could I won't 

knowing that this is a possibility

sends me time warping to the time

when that was exactally what I would do

no second guessing

just go and gone

there is a lesson some where in all this

some do the right thing because it's the right thing

thing

or you know better do better antidote

I hear it all

know the person I am

know that I will always do the right thing

but

thinking about the thing that may not be right

is always a thing that makes me smile

especially,

when no one is looking

3/30 Fabular

the way I heard it

she walked right in

no she didn't walk 

she kind of sauntered

rolling her hips in that way

or maybe she strolled 

like she could care less

but you could tell she cared a lot

anyway she walk, sauntered, strolled in

like she owned the place or at least her space in that place

I tell you I ain't never seen nobody

walk, saunter stroll in the way she did

not a care in the world and her rolling hips

in that place

then she stood pefrectly still

ok she moved a little 

but she was still in that way

you knew something was going to happen 

and it could be scary 

but you wanted to see

she stood perfectly stlill 

kinda

and looked at everybody 

like they owed her money

and they best be ready to pay up

I tell you I ain't never seen nobody

walk, saunter stroll in the way she did

not a care in the world, her rolling hips

all still and moving like that

pay me my money

then she made eye contact with this woman

she was a beautiful woman 

she kinda blushed

just in her eyes when she looked at her 

the way she looked

then she did that walk again all saunter and stroll

and hips

she walked right up on the beautiful one 

and smiled

showing no teeth 

but we saw them all

then she walked, sauntered, strolled right up to her

to the beautiful one 

like they knew each other

but not really 

you could tell

I mean there was chemistry 

but it kinda bounced around the room

got on everybody 

but they didn't notice

it was like being somewhere 

you shouldn't be

but we were all there and we saw everything

maybe we shouldn't have

then she, the woman, 

plunged her hand into her chest

just stuck it in there, 

it was magic and there was no blood

but her hand kinda disappeared into her body

and she just pulled it out

pulled it right out

she pulled her heart right out

and handed it, her heart, to the beautiful one 

like 

it was normal

like people just walk, saunter stroll

not a care in the world hips rolling

still but moving all smile no teeth

eye contact and chemistry bouncing around the room

plunging her hand in her chest 

and giving it to a beautiful woman 

like it was normal

and magic

she just said three word

just three

she looked the beautiful woman 

in the eyes 

and said

this is yours

she said it just like that

this is yours

only three words

and she gave it to her

just handed it over

just gave this beautiful woman

three words and her heart

and the beautiful girl she smile

she smiled and said

thank you

I never saw no shit like that before

2/30 Funambulist

There are days when the distance seems close

the ground so near a fall would merely lean in 

to kiss your mouth and all the doubt it holds

when walikng the line is a decision made

after long deliberation each step considered 

before removing the net so sure you will not

need it's protection

when staying close to home is the only

thing you know

until comfort confines

arms banded resticting movement 

when safe and coward change names

and you crave what you cannot touch 

what you can only see when you scale 

the walls you've built around yourself

keeping the world out

and you out of the world

you remember walking on air once

the rush of adrenaline 

the belief that you owned this

no more fear just death defying faith

the way you lit up a room because you could

and then that thing happened

the thing you want to name

but doing so gives it a life of it's own

and you may not recognize your reflection

so you become mason

began builing yourself away

from all reflective surfaces

afraid to look at your own light

your smile gone tremble

in another life

you wore confidence with a flourish

cape around your shoulder

your feather like steps so sure 

as you walked out floated on the air

never looking back or down

no need for a net

not caring how far the fall

1/30 Choose

there are mornings when I can't decide
whether coffee or whiskey is the right choice
they stare steaming daring me to choose wrong
coffee always wins

she wants me to make a decision
one that may mean losing her touch
an unfair choice for a damaged heart to make
one that only beats normal when she's around

I choose wine tonight imagine it elixir
a potion that will calm the panic in me
soothe my wounds while leaving
me open for interpretation

I don't know how to love in increments
I tend to leap before looking landing on
my heart every time

I believe this body was born to love you
it was never given a choice