True Imposter

She sings the Church songs on Sunday
and tries to emulate the feeling the singer had
In its absence, she taps those soon-to-be
manicured nails on the table
and taps those eight years old Shirleys
that even God would question on the floor
She bows her head and damn near speaks
in tongues that even the tongue can’t decipher
She taps the mind to make it believe, like she does, that She is doing all the right things to make it into Heaven’s God’s grace
She can’t wait ’til Church is over
So She can resume how others see her
All along, She was planning her day

The Turnaround

How do I say, “No”
before I break my own heart?
Do I have to go along
with it all until You tell me,
“It’s not working”?
Or must I lose my fire
because all the matches I had
are now immersed under water?
Would I have relearn how to cry?
Maybe I would stutter
How can I mess up a simple word
that could either strengthen me
or the one thing that could cause me
to crumble before all those who I knew
were laughing at me in my face
while shaking their pathetic heads?
I want to be better
I should be better
I can be better
than what I have here now
There is a world outside of this shell
that wants to know me well
to see me well
to see me do well
and grow along with Me
So, I have to say, “No,”
before I am no longer able to
I gave you a piece of Me
and you can keep it
But I will feed it and make it grow back
fuller, stronger, and more productive
All by myself
until I am able to say, “Yes,”
again without hesitation
without doubt
without grief
without pain
without a You who wants nothing
out of life
I want to feel my heart beating
everywhere like a walking orgasm
because I want
because I desire
to share
and not just give
to someone unwilling to learn
how to love back
I have to be selfish
Now, when I face you,
that “No,” means that I have turned
Myself “On”
On I am
On I will be
Alive, valuable, worthy, and somebody

Good Night Glory





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Let me tell you a story

About a young buck South

In his nighttime glory

Getting high off his tunes

To later use one or two spoons

Minding his own business

Short of a neighborhood

Where his own kin lived

But that wasn’t enough

Came a lone-star stranger

Hoping to strut his stuff

Alerting the Po-Po

About his urge to blow

One whose smile was hard to glow

Stay back, they said don’t go

Like jumping from a rooftop

He made the kid stop

The pistol told a different story

For the cop and

Lone-Ranger gunning down

The nighttime glory


Stand Your Ground

Was the law they found

To cover up gagged and bound

And rid themselves of a Bassett Hound

Happens almost everyday

When night takes a walk in the day

The wrong way

Nighttime brings about fear

When things become missing it’s all too clear

That it must have been them

The ones who used to swing from a limb

But what’s past is past

Not in the midst of a law built to last

Maybe it’s just a slap in the face

Getting back at the darkness who won the race

Shame on America

When an unjustified death won’t disparage ya

A stalker is the aggressor

It’s doesn’t take a rock scientist or professor

To see that

It’s still about dollar signs

When a repressed Black man is bombarded with wines

And spirits

Damn near Whip-Its

Keeping his head underwater

He barely feeds his daughter

Let alone his son

Who’ll always be on the run

Because the Judge became executioner

Placing the blame on a juror

Who arrived with furor

After a brief tour of

The decision she would rise above

Six out of twelve

That was all was needed to send the dead to Hell

The Defense made a rinse

Out of the Prosecution probably made to straddle the fence

Jesus died for the Jews

Saved a man with a name who helped hide all the clues

With Justice

Because it just is

Now they all can take a pill

Shoot at will

Aim to kill

Yet and still


A lighter shrill

Gets a fine thrill

From Tonto at the mill

Then nighttime glory

Gets paid for his fatal story

Stand Your Ground Law

Shole does have a fatal flaw

Those who lied

About what they saw

Need only be despised

By their mental claw

We know they saw much more

Women telling untruths so their butts won’t sore


Men of his peers

Who supported a cause like one against steers and queers

Is it still envy toward the young buck

Who has all that hangin’ and still down on his luck

Whoever wrote “The Message”

Needs to come out of hiding and re-write the passage

Of the Black man

Who can’t even stand

When there’s a rule

That calls him a fool

For being a tool

In a tar pool

Even if he has gone to school

Where is Glory?


Ask Mama, but trust Dad

Before your nose gets bloody

And fighting gets you sad

When you can’t find your best buddy

Ask Mama, but trust Dad


Sometimes they need a fist

To go upside that head

I know it’s such a twist

It’s as if you are seeing red


When you’ve tried making peace

But it’s going from worse to bad

Stop making your own elbow grease

Ask Mama, but trust Dad


Mama don’t want no hurt

She tries to make things right

Even tries for a sit down chat

If Daddy sees a bruise

He’s got nothing to lose

They’ll all know where the party’s at


Both sides of good

Keeping grace and love

in the neighborhood

They know how to settle the score

A different way to fight

one dark one light

Hey, that’s what parents are for


When you keep trying to make peace

But things just get too bad

Stop using your own elbow grease

Tell Mama, but trust big bad Dad

The Upside of Anger

How can I eat

Hearing your belly roar with fear

Watching you wince and grimace

holding back the shame and tear

The etiquette I have

for holding a fork and a knife

cast doubt over your pallor and pitless strife

When my tongue utters common praise

careful words do form every phrase

What is it that’s inside your head

that makes you dream visions of unspeakable dread

Every day Santa comes

to grasp your face with his fingers and his two thumbs

How I wish for my own abyss

before the cardinal plants his lonely sweet kiss

Mirrored images shadows speak

abandon the living but take the weak

Cheeky faces they all do lie

Seeking refuge up in the sky

Tumors they do grow all around

But X-rays are then tossed in Lost and Found

Who says Who, Who says When

And determines life from a mortal sin

Try to manage and stay abreast

Then in time you have peace and rest

Life’s Painter


Thoughts are like colors

Grayer than strange

More absurd than dark blue

Bloodier than deep red


Thoughts guide fingers

Though the hand forms the curve

The eyes behold all the beauty

Stars and sun over the rainbow


Life’s Painter tells the tale

Of joy and pain

Yet all joy is not happiness

Pain forms a kind of death


Frayed bristles are of a frayed mind

Overexposed is overused

For some, a baptism is once

The alcoholic needs to dry


Then splatter, if he must

And call life art

Precision brings best decisions

Clean and neat shows control


The canvas on display

If he is so lucky

Value placed on his life

What a bargain


…Turn at Bat



At bat

I am

As my eyes close

I feel where I am

Why I am there

What I need to do

And where I want to send


And I will send myself far

 Further outside the stands

Than those standing

      to catch me

   hoping to be the lucky one

    The Lucky one


And I feel where I am

And I grip myself well enough


 When opposition hurls itself at me

I greet it

I meet it

And send it on its way

And as I soar

And as high as I soar

 It is forgotten

Whether how foul

 Or caught down below


At bat

I close my eyes

And I am a hit

Because I am at bat

 And the stands are reaching

For me




Should my hands not cover

the tips of my nipples, let me

  turn slightly so as to not expose

 my Pinocchio nose down below

And should my bells lag then

 imagine their pleasure

when frustration becomes less

 of a beautifully crafted barbaric

mess as of if pounding the Gorilla’s


Beneath your navel your brow beads

 trickling from perspiration

Dab it I do

 knowing it will never dry as

long as I am long and strong enough

 for you to cuff me

time and time again


And down there

wasting each other after engulfing

me lovingly yet violently

yet insatiably

Let us not speak after words

 even though you may see the dark

side of my moon as I walk away

Look at my face

  when I return and then after

for completeness