grounded

i am a poet deep in thought

waiting for the next line

the next rhyme

the next time i write something it will be from wisdom’s gate

and not what you expect

random thoughts ready to take flight

even though I am grounded

my soul can still travel

RED ZONE REVOLUTION

in honor of those who paint, write and sing
in RED, BLACK and GREEN
standing for the uprising
... insurrection and rebellion
against the atrocities of injustice committed by those who will escape unseen
putting pen to paper
and living dangerously in Real Evolutionary Determination
with weapons of ink
spilling literary bloodshed
spitting truth to the masses
the freedom fighters
willing to ride or die for what they believe
The Red Zone Revolution
is here to stay
showing the colors of life
and the order of the day

lost

he used ink as currency

posting bail as collateral

to free him from the prison gates

inside his mind

a broke poet

with nothing to lose

but words

a hot commodity on an open market

sold to the highest bidder

he now survives

on writing to appease

to see and be seen

caught up in the mainstream

and swept away…

chasing the paper

while losing himself in the limelight

listen...

listen…

originality breeds contempt

and the honest reality of my words doesn’t always sit well with those who hear

it makes them feel uncomfortable

but that is the whole purpose of poetry

so listen

and free

your minds…

give these lines the chance to penetrate beneath the hard surface of your opinions

and hear what’s in my heart.

you might find out that it’s not too different to what’s in yours

and we will find a common ground

beyond that cup of coffee

and anonymous snaps

originality could become a new way of life

and maybe end some wars

feed some children

and save some souls...

you never know

so listen...

if

If you do
because you have to
but don't want to...
give
because it's expected
but you can't afford it...
go
even though you would rather be
someplace else...
then, don't.
Forced behavior that's not from the heart
is like violence
and rape of the soul
that gives rise to bastard children of resentment
from the seeds of iniquity
planted in the womb of hatred
spreading like a disease that pollutes the land
and carries death to its residents like the waters of Katrina.
So if you have to...
don't want to...
can't...
or won't...
please don't.

beautiful black girl

 beautiful black girl…

daydreaming of unexpected treasure washed upon the shore

randomly gathering shells and relishing the days of no worries, concerns or cares

beautiful black girl…

innocently digging holes in the sand

running from the waves on bandy legs like a sandpiper bird

never knowing that the waters of life will catch her

soon enough

lost in the motion of her thoughts that carry her heart to distant places

returning with the tide

and going back out to sea again

beautiful black girl…

see yourself as more than what the world says that you are

the thoughts of your Creator towards you outnumber the grains of sand in your pail

how wonderful you are to Him

be true to yourself and to your dreams

and always keep a smile

as you chase the tide

Barbados

I wrote another poem in the sand

with words from space

inspired by the rhythm of the waves

singing and waving in time

with a rhapsody in blue yellow and blue

black trident in the middle

fist raised in pride

for those who stood behind enemy lines

building this land that I now stand upon

never forgetting from whence we came

looking out to the horizon over the Middle Passage

where bodies lie in wait for their vengeance on the Last Day

with no sense of urgency

because in time all will be free

so in the meantime

I write these words

of grace in the sand

inspired by the rhythm of the waves

calling me…

© 2012 PoetryofMotion!

All Rights Reserved