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love is the morning sun eager to see
love is a wave breaking over me
love is a touch of a hand
love is my girlfriend lying on the sand
love is a summer wind
love is a woman’s heart to win
love is a field and green oak trees
love says can I help you please
love grows over time
love is this heart of mine
love goes on a journey and flies high and free
over mountains and lush valleys into eternity

We’ll always have
November 7th
The day the orange exploded
into madness
that was already there
But nobody cared
Crescent night around
the heated city
Ascension upon your
Red Ducati
The streets were free
We were free
I felt free
We kissed to liberty!
I tasted your Polish tongue
that day
I sucked the white privilege
out of you
I did it to the last one too…
So, what do I get?
Solitario
When shit gets real?
you forget your zeal
What are you?
They say:
Iranian, Moroccan, Turkish, no Egyptian
Who the fuck cares?
It’s just what everybody’s obsessed with
these days
The white in black-
The black in white
Pick the gray
it drips with bright
What does it matter that we’ve exchanged
warm saliva
underneath the Manhattan moon?
(Polack savors terrorist)
One wolf has left
and another has come disguised
as a limp sheep
Choose the gray!

– Amira Appleblossom

Her voice yells under water
atop a mountain no one can hear
Perpetual restless nights
There was a woman beneath the sphere.

She relies on her black leather boots,
A potted flower, every waking hour,
Stripped of her grounded roots

Black leather boots, what a sight,
her deserted eyes need sleep,
Black leather boots invite,
why, solitarily she weeps.

Rescue me, she whispers tenderly.

Black leather boots at night,
What an elegant disguise.
Black leather boots excite,
Only the lonely lives in her eyes.

She stopped shining,
her stars blinding

Love is fragile, life is fainting
She’s calling, she’s falling.

She sees him stride,
Dressed like her,
caressed like her,
in his black leather boots at night.

Black leather boots unite
on a bed of roses they sleep
Black leather boots tonight
Her weeping disappears.

Black leather boots ignite
holding back their fears
Black leather boots tonight,
Black leather boots premieres

Uncle woke up on his steering wheel
His front tooth was knocked right out
The crash wasn’t another driver’s fault
It was his consumption of vodka, wine and stout

Uncle climbed out of his automobile
The car was wrapped around a tree
Smoke billowed from the mangled wreck
Uncle necked the last of his whiskey.

Uncle stumbled to the off-licence
He grabbed booze, some more sour mash
But to get his trembling hands on the goods
He had to bribe the clerk with all his cash

Uncle staggered toward his Sister’s cottage
Dragging his shoes through a fresh dog shit
Sister was going out on a Tinder date
And Uncle was going there to babysit

Uncle was scolded by Sister for running late
Her coat was on, her shoes were laced
But she couldn’t leave Nephew with Uncle now
Because Uncle was blatantly shitfaced.

Uncle’s missing tooth was of great concern
And the smell of booze from his breath was noxious
Sister spotted the sour mash tucked inside his coat
How on Earth was this man still conscious?

Uncle convinced Sister that it was safe for her
To leave young Nephew in his care tonight
He practically shoved his Sister right out the door
She didn’t get the chance to put up a fight.

Uncle polished off his Jacky D
And searched the cottage at his disposal
For some alcohol to top up his buzz
He found none; Sister was teetotal

Uncle noticed his hands were trembling
The walls were closing in all around
Something was tapping at the windows now
Or perhaps he was imagining that sound

Uncle was petrified of the shadowy demons
That crept toward him from every direction
He shrieked, he hid, he sobbed a bit
Another drink right now would be perfection

Uncle couldn’t stand the pain no more
His skin was crawling, what could he do?
Another trip to the off-licence was required
He locked the bedroom door belonging to Nephew

Uncle thought Nephew would be just fine
If he popped out for just a minute
Nephew was quite upset to be prisoner
But if Unc didn’t get a drink he’d lose it.

Uncle arrived at the Off-License to buy his booze
But alas his wallet was empty
The clerk yelled, “Sling yer hook, Piss ‘ead”
But Uncle was desperate for that alcoholic bevvy

Uncle grabbed the clerk and swung clenched fists
And repeatedly bashed his face
The body dropped onto the Off-Licence floor
And his wounds bled all over the place

Uncle stumbled back into the cottage
His body trembling, it must be cold
So he went to chop some fire wood
He grabbed the axe and was out of control

Uncle tried his best but messed it up
He went back inside to whet his whistle
But found his nephew had spilled his drink
And Uncle flew at him like a guided missile

Uncle still had the axe gripped in his hand
He tossed his Nephew onto the carpet
“How dare you fuck with my drink,
You whiny little piece of shit!”

Uncle swung the axe to chop him up
He did so with all of his drunken might
But Sister burst in through the front door
To stop him and be hero that night

Sister grabbed an empty bottle of Unc’s
And did some swinging of her own
The bottle made contact with Uncle’s head
And split the flesh right down to the bone

Uncle hit the ground, unconscious now
The axe fell from his open grasp
Sister grabbed her boy and held him tight
“You’re safe. Momma’s home at last.”

Uncle was carted off by Police that night
For acting thoroughly indecent
He was lucky and escaped jail time
But he was advised to seek some treatment

Uncle stands before a group quite often
Sharing his experiences and feeling melancholic
Ashamed of the sickness that took hold so tight
“My name’s Bob and I’m an alcoholic.”

You’re not looking at me
your eyes – bright – scan my brow
a miner’s lamp
in my underground
Me, I never look
into anyone’s eyes
your logo-less hoodie your jeans
no scrubs for you today
you’re for blending in
your clothes are clean
Persil fresh
telling me nothing and everything
Me, I smell of daily corrosion
your stethoscope dangles loose
your sterile gloves
purple for power
or sorrow or for the time
when I had colours to claim

My first time here
the community health van
for the unhoused the junkies
the drifters who got lost
the teenage girls the teenage boys
bought for dimes
you check my breath
I’m still breathing
your deodorant a jasmine in bloom
Me, with rotting pits for underarms
you check the tracks silently
the pain doesn’t ooze out
you say masks are optional
tug yours down to smile
I stand to leave for the streets
you pull off the latex gloves
the barrier’s lifted
you touch my hands I’d forgotten
who I was till then
It’s over in an instant
but my hands purple from cold
hold yours too

The nights of Havana
Perfumes of a man and a woman
Perfume of love mixed with drama
Close your eyes, open them back
You see I’m still here my love
No, we will never part ways

The nights are not ours
They are for the sick, the crazy
They are for the hope that we reconnect
I move better in the night than in the day
I feel closer to you my love
Always in my dreams, never in your arms

The Nights of Pain
Evil in a thousand forms, a thousand colors
Evil everywhere and at all hours
He stares at my eyes for me to look away
I came very far from love
The damage is done, nothing will fix it

Every flower isn’t for your harvest
I been soul searching for the longest
Only to find that my soulmate is me
Self acceptance is the greatest blessing
In every room I shut down I show up as me
I know you are enticed
I know I changed your life
I know you are draining mine
So…
Do not disturb
Leave her where she is
You can’t handle it
Just watch from a disssstance

Window shop but don’t buy
The price of your peace of mind is too high
I know I am not what you like
And I ain’t willing to self sacrifice
No more no more

Just leeeeaaave me
More demands than a gps
I can’t keep up with your directions
Don’t tell me to reroute again
Im cuttin this shit off cuz I know where I’m goooooing
This ticking time bomb is not worth the stress
Hazardous wasted time we getting more toxic
I know I’m not your only option
I wanna know what’s stoppinnnnnn YOU
somebody will see me as I am and I will be their answered prayer
Why should I change who I am
When I can get someone who actually likes ME loves ME
DND leave me alone go find what you really want
I ain’t her and she ain’t me
A pick me is something I will never be
Mf this ain’t a game and I ain’t a create a player
I was wearing wigs when you met me
But now it isn’t good enough
I bagged you dressing sexy
Same wardrobe now that’s for hoes
You want a freak that doesn’t have sex
You want the teacher without the test
You want the baddie without the check so you can control her Xbox x

DND dnd leave me be

(Shackles: noun, a pair of fetters connected together by a chain used to fasten a prisoner’s wrists or ankles together; manacles; any similarly conceived device for restraint; implements or methods used for curtailment, restriction, control.)

In Greek and Roman mythology,
Vulcan was the blacksmith of the gods.
A supremely skilled craftsman was he.
His forge was a volcano.
A master of astonishing intricacy,
he was the creator of weapons,
the maker of metalworking,
the forger of infernos.

In 1619, Vulcan’s distant descendants
faced a unique challenge. The 1619 ironsmith
had a brand new order to fulfill.
This ironsmith was charged with fashioning
leg irons,
small enough to bind the ankles of a child.
Was he up to the job, this ironsmith?
He’s clever, this 1619 smithie.
Clever enough to forge ironbound bracelets,
small enough to clap around the wrists
of a small child,
a small enslaved child,
somebody’s little boy,
somebody’s little girl.
This ironsmith was summoned with this,
the devil’s own task.

And he, and legions of other smithies like him
stepped up to the commission.
And fired up the coke,
And pounded the iron,
and rendered the product.
Because there was money in it.
There was money in it.
There was no humanity in it.
But there was money in it.
So it got done.

And so it evolved,
and the fierce cauldron of slavery was forged.
Because there was money in it.
There was money in it.
There was no morality in it.
But there was money in it.
So it got done.

Voter suppression too is a forger’s mission.
fire up the coke
pound the iron
render the product:
Block the vote.
Purge the rolls.
Bar mail-in ballots.

Because there is power in it.
There is power in it.
There is no democracy in it.
But there is power in it.
So it gets done.

A black man’s neck is clamped
under a white cop’s knee.
Humanity, democracy, and breath
suppressed.
Justice manacled.
White supremacy’s heritage:
fired by intolerance,
pounded in hate.
rendered in racism.
The die is cast
And the course is fixed.
There is no empathy in it.
There is only hate in it.

The confidence of virtue falls anemic, while
the confidence of vice explodes robust and ruddy.
The blue wall of confidence:
under-nourished and over-funded.
Bloated to the point of starvation.

There is the confidence of hate.
There is the malignancy of hate.
The hubristic arrogance of hate.
There is the virus of hate.
There is the fetid, choking stench of hate.
There are the shackles of hate.
There is no love in it.
But there’s money in it.
There is money in it.
So it gets done.

I have a very deep relationship with this night,
The darkness of the night is necessary to shine.
I don’t know?? what I am looking for in the darkness of this night.
But!
I’m sure that I’ll find that sparkle,
Like the shining moonlight of this shining moon…

Focused, quiet, brown eyes send
Calm, care, joy, laughter to befriend
Hearts and minds. We knew your kindness
Fully there for all, embracing, mindless
Of faults, simple family-like-strong ties
All beloved in your eyes.

We hunger for your light, we call
But gone, you, like quicksilver stol’n from us all;
Golden aura, golden smile, gone.
Beaming boy-face, soul-warming core, none.
No more full-hearted helping instant-essence,
Bestowing sun-brilliance with your presence.

To honor you, no, not true, we hover
Over these poor lines to recover
Everything you meant, mean, will be, to those
Who knew, know, experienced, choose, chose
To have befriended, received help, heightened,
Because we were cared for, lightened.
So full of life, father, son, brother, sister, friend
A joyful Lord created you for all to the very end.

Forever we feel your spirit call
Guiding, beguiling, urging us all
To use time well
To serve with joy all who in our spectrum dwell.

So, dear C, are you soaring with God on an Inspiring flight
or a forever gift to us, a star to guide our sight?
Both methinks: a universal and forever-friend, day and night.