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Jump, leap, lunge – again

Mr. Sky is dressed in night

Arms intensely stretched out  

Pluck one moon or a few stars

Please, black velvet void – slight beg

Jump, leap harder – with more trust

Grownups chuckle at childish goal

Mr. Sky defiantly acquiesced 

Little conqueror has galaxy in a jar 

 


I belly-crawled into magical bedding

I wondered when I would sleep

Time ignored then abandoned me

Scenes shifted, logic corrupted 

Garb is gone because body is free

And there is no end in such realm

There is simply a sun-weighted start  

 


Childish windswept summer sands spoke freely

I heard them a million steps back – not forward

Uttering riddled verses with mixed human plots

Touch with more future than hand – and you won’t

See with more illusion than eyes – the sun is blinding

Accuse your excuses of stifling your waywardness

Laugh to the height of ridiculousness - in front of all

Thank some deity for the gift of being frivolously lost

 

 

 

 

  

He’s So Dumb


Breakup – kind of rough

Slashed tires, smash windshield

Death came to a blameless ride

Grunting, yelling my name – Like Brando

I pensively look on – calmly chuckle

Cackling lunatic in shiny cop cuffs

By the way honey – it wasn’t my car

The Enemy


Musculoskeletal protest – defiantly shout NO

Illogical chatter inside head – shut the hell the up 

Heart and skin terrified - no way to hide it

Play out possible scenarios – calmly, bravely

Fall, pain, injure even more –  So what? IED failed it’s job

No goddamn pity in public eyes – impossible, only national pride 

Enemy is gravity – walk soldier, walk hero


Young fingers, palms cling onto youthful rights

Swing upon lucky rusty rings, bars, motionless rocket

Small warrior endures – no regard to blisters or torrential rains

Park feudalism – last to leave is the queen

Soaked to the skin and pixie heart - the winner

The saviors – ice and ointment to save small hands and play life 

 

 

Good Bite


Eat, grimace, spew and spew again

Corrupt minded poison – solitary sustenance

Self-injured senses await a justly lynching 

Boggy soil supplicates – cease blood poisoning

Expunge phantom anger, alleged war – swallow tears

Murder the charming ugly monster within – enemy

Gratefully pay whatever price – sleep soundly at last

Eat at the good table with proud faces abound

Break down a little bit and take a good bite 

 

 

 


I have much to say on the topic of self-realization and how I take note of the ‘beautiful people’ in the world. Such topics could take a lifetime to type out. So I’ll try my best to summarize.

For the first 8 years of my life my self-image was wonderful. I lived in a neighborhood where almost everyone looked like me. Throw in some cute ponytails and frilly dresses and I was adorable.

Then we moved to Pasadena, California. Culture shock on steroids! I had never seen black people, Asians, Armenians, Jews, Russians and everyone else. They scared me. Especially the black kids. Keep in mind I wasn’t even ten when this happened.

In retrospect, the black kids probably scared me because their skin was the most pronounced. Once a black girl had lunch and a very honest conversation with me I was no longer scared.

Then she asked a question I was not ready for. What are you? What do you mean? I’m a girl. Then she said, are you white or something else? It took a few days to answer the question.

As time went on, I coveted the white girls’ beauty, wealth and good luck. Yes, I wanted to be white. White was ‘all right’. Mexican-American was wetback, beaner, fruit picker and brownie.

White people were perfect even when they were cruel. Then came the biracial kids: black and white, black and Asian and yes, black and Latino. They were all super gorgeous in my book.

Then one day I woke up. I had a teacher with blond hair and blue eyes. She was sweet and I loved her. During an open school meeting she introduced me to her husband.

He was well over 6 ft. tall and black as night. He shook my hand and said, how do you do young lady. I couldn’t stop staring. I went to my teacher and said I had no idea she was married to a black man.

She laughed and said that she was black. I said she didn’t look black. She then pointed out how I could tell. I was amazed. I apologized for my ignorance and she said that it was best for me to ask.

Mrs. L helped me so much in how I view the world. Today I can tell who the beautiful people are. They are the full-figured mothers who nurse their babies. They are the dark-skinned grandmas who hug every child. They are the smudged face, pot belly kids playing in the park.

True beauty falls upon all of us when we have silliness, tenderness, love and acceptance. There are so many skin tones and facial structures for a reason. God loves variety and we should too. All of my friends and family are perfectly beautiful. My two beautiful black girlfriends were in my bridal party. There is no celebrity that can hold a candle to them.


I witnessed a grove of pallid idiots

Mocking a dark Nubian dream

Possessing tearful honest eyes

If happy, one could gaze endlessly

Life-affirming glow upon her blessed skin

You know no beauty, to morons I screamed

Her look is authentically Godly and pure

Her hands are as well meaning as dawn

Nubian angel smiled friendship to me

We are dubbed perfect by each other

Cruel ones be cursed – askewed bad eyes 

 

 

Almost Cured


Narcissistic mouth-breather

Awaken the honest skeletal you

True admiration is barred from your senses 

Your audience is yet to be born

Jovial flesh movers mockingly laugh your way

Judge from shifting pedestal – come down, be real

Envious of rotund shape, speech and psyche

Foreigners easily beckon an undeserving you  

Cackling cruelly, you exit alone 

Thundering wholeheartedly, the flawed carry on

 

 

 

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