Poetry
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Beauty Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I be holding beauty when I glance upon them theoretically shaping the future into an afro- concentric sharpness that shook the white power structure into confronting a black consciousness organized with a mandate and a mission to dismiss that old time religion that said everything…
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Originally posted on Silver Birch Press: DEFINING THE MAGIC Poem by Charles Bukowski a good poem is like a cold beer when you need it, a good poem is a hot turkey sandwich when you’re hungry, a good poem is a gun when the mob corners you, a good poem is something that allows you…
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who would’ve thought that ten minutes of writing would be hard. after all, in the span of a lifetime what is ten minutes? a pot of coffee boiling? the amount of time it takes to fry chicken golden brown on one side? amount of time i spend telling my child to brush his teeth in…
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Elsie was a straight A student, a dutiful daughter and a speaker of three languages. I was nothing of the sort but still, we became friendly enough that I was able to ask why the French teacher called her Tuyet. Americans say its hard to pronounce. I tested it on my one language tongue. Tuyet.…
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When it is finally ours, this freedom, this liberty, this beautifuland terrible thing, needful to man as air,usable as earth; when it belongs at last to all,when it is truly instinct, brain matter, diastole, systole,reflex action; when it is finally won; when it is morethan the gaudy mumbo jumbo of politicians:this man, this Douglass, this…
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Back then, moans manifested through walls like copulating ghosts; making morning after sightings problematic. Now, when I hear sounds through the walls I remember my own moans and how they climaxed into this life where I am a mother listening to my child read himself to sleep.
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Ever since they moved into the apartment with carpet she liked to fly. She would dive head first off of any structure that held her feet “without giving a damn for rugburn” her mother said. Her father just laughed and would swoop in “like an airplane” catch her mid-flight and give her the hugs she loved…
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of a bed that’s unsleepable until egyptian cotton sheets are removed balled together in a bamboo hamper to be fumigated by the washing process the time-worn couch is untenable as well until I remove the sheets covering what was twice his resting place and replace them with freshly washed ones. then I can curl myself…
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Back then, moans manifested through walls like copulating ghosts making morning after sightings problematic. I bound myself to my room until the sounds and subjects dissipated into the mist of a Monday morning. Now, when I hear sounds through the walls I remember my own moans and how they climaxed into this life where I…
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