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National Poetry Writing Month 2011! (Check Daily)

Peace. Last year, I participated in the National Poetry Writing Month (conveniently known as NaPoWriMo) due to inspiration from talented poet Derrick Weston Brown, a poet-in-residence at Busboy and Poets in DC. I’m nobody’s poet but I do try to get creative when I can.  It is such a departure from  my usual work. I hope you enjoy.  I will list my poems below daily.


Her hair smelled like my many fond memories of the carnival.

Caramel and spun sugar danced about my headspace as I tried to find the words to get the woman’s attention.

She smiled that confident smile of “yes, I know I look good and I wanted you to know”

I showed that grin that communicated “damn you look good and I’m glad you let me know”

I started to hear the carousel music followed by festive be-bop horns and a marching band with a ringleader in a top hat.

The performers did amazing feats and my flashback was so real, I could touch it.

Animals roared and preened.  We were all delighted, fascinated.

I awoke from my dream haze and the mystery woman of my affection looked up to me.

I decided not to speak.


I stare into my plate
if you still like

Because I damn sure do

I used to love
your big brown eyes showed
me the universe

I saw my babies in those eyes
I saw my future in those eyes
I saw my love in those eyes
that I don’t see anymore

I hear these forks scraping so loudly
when I was with you
I heard nothing else

I did not know people ate
so noisily
because I
was so wrapped up into you

Those eyes I miss
The way your tongue meets your teeth
The way your bosom heaved when I…

I just keep looking into my plate
you would be coming back
from the restroom

But you never do. You never will.


I do not always talk to mother.
Mother and I are more like brother and sister
Lopsided siblings

Mother made me a man before my time
Mother was not at fault
Mother did her best

I love how mother says the word orange
My favorite thing about mother
I always laugh when she does

My memories of mother fade daily
Mother is alive but we live apart
20 years ago I left her nest

I want to buy mother an Orange Fanta
Just to hear her say that word
That funny funny word

Loose Haiku #1

I Do Not Wish You
Any Harm But I Do Not
Wish You Very Well

Hot Air

With The Rising In My Chest, I Inhale Life
All Of Its Ups & Downs & Twists & Turns

I Hold It In Sometimes To Taste The Joy
To Taste The Pain & To Taste Bittersweet

Sometimes It Feels Like My Childhood Memories
Others It Reminds Of Me Of Tales My Grandpa Told

I Breathe In The Air Of Winter & Spring & Fall Willingly
I Never Loved The Air Of Summer

But I Will Try To Love
I Will Try To Love Summer Again


Could I give up half my sight
To see all things?

No. I am a coward who needs both eyes
and although I am parched I will not drink.

I have heard that the water is so sweet
and will expand my consciousness.

I could be a GREAT god
if only I give my eye.

But I am vain and I am hollow
and I am afraid to dig into my skull.

So what kind of god
am I really?

The Truth About Haikus

Haikus Are Lazy
They Don’t Challenge Me At All
Yet I Still Do Them

Untitled #1

Her hair smelled
my hands were in them
last night
and I

Made sure she kept my scent
because she was wanted by all

I wanted her
future lover(s)
to know

they will never have her like I do

Scene From The Red Line

A Man Buried Nose Deep In His Paper
Obnoxious Teens Enter The Vehicle

The Man Breathes A Knowing Sigh
Bracing Himself For Profane Loudness

However He Recalls In His Seasoned Age
He Was JUST Like Them

Lost Boys Were He And His Boyhood Friends
Searching For A Reason To Be Noticed

Pining To Be Noticed
Hoping To Be Scolded

Because It Would Mean Someone Cared About Them Still


Oakland Reminds Me Of A Woman I Love(d)
Hot And Cold And Sunny And Cloudy

But When Oakland Is Good To You
Oakland Is Good To You

Walking Down Bellevue Ave On The East Side Of Things
Soaking In That Sunlight Bouncing Off Lake Merrit

Getting Off At The Fruitvale BART Stop
Hoping To Run Into Something Fine On 35th Ave

But Oakland Is So Fickle Sometimes
I Swear I Don’t Know What Be On Her Mind

Always Steamy In The Day
Always Chilly At Night

I Love Oakland
She Keeps Me On My Toes

A Short Poem For Dad

I Hope One Day You Wake Up
And Realize
You Made A Mistake
In Giving Up
On Me
On Us
On Yourself

What I Saw (based on all truth)

At the age of culture, I saw my mother cry
My little four year old brain could not understand

My mother was strong and unbreakable
I saw my father shadow her with his big loving arms

I wanted to go into the room but I was up past bedtime
And daddy would be so mad if he saw me

I kept quiet looking at the pain grow with each sob
My mother looked broken as tears flowed like the Anacostia

I love my brother because he came next
But that night they lost my sister

I still could not understand
My four year old brain was not ready

But as I stand as a man
I know what my mother lost

And so I cry for her
Because she will not cry anymore


A wariness creeps onto my skin when I see you speaking your beautiful little falsehoods
The way you sell yourself as perfect sickens me to my core. And thrills me.
I am embarrassed by the fact your despicable soul attracts me.
I simply can not get enough of your evil ways

Arrow Tips

Cupid is a motherf*cker
Because His Little Fat Ass
Sure Picks The Right Time
To Shoot You In The Heart

I Got To Bleeding Hard
Then I Got To Crying Harder
But When It Stopped Hurting
I Couldn’t Wipe That Smile Off

Cupid Is A Motherf*cker, Jack
He Cold Blooded


Old Jack Came To Me And Said “Don’t Chu Evah Fall In No Love”
And I Laughed Knowingly
Because I Fail That Lesson Every Change Of The Season

He Gives Me These Words Because He’s Lived A Life Longer Than I
Full Of Heartache And Soaring Triumph And All Things In Between
He Wanted Me To Avoid Those Pitfalls Of Discontent

He Just Doesn’t Know I Get Into My Own Space Too
I’m Somebody’s Old Jack Now Who Advises The Youngin
And I Give Those Words Of Encouragement Coupled With Sentiment

And I Wonder If The Kid Laughs At Me Too Like I Do Old Jack

Stormy Haikus

I Want To Make Love
Passionately And Steady
Hoping She Wants More

My Face Is Wet With
Her Explosion And Passion
I Devour Her

Please Claw My Back, Love
Call My Name Like You’ve Missed Me
Never Let Me Go

I Will Dab Your Face
The Sweat Was Pouring At Will
You Were Beautiful


My enemy, my friend
I never have enough of you

My love, my heart
I can never seem to keep up

Why won’t you stay still for me?
Don’t you see me over here?



3 Responses

  1. wise choice in the end,

    very visual and vivid imagery.

  2. I liked both poems, but “forks” was so much more expressive and revealed a strong sense of yearning. I can relate to that.

  3. Both are very beautiful. You have a way with words.

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