Aching Silence

Silence will always scream
The loudest truth
Echoing between our naked bodies
As the agonizing minutes tick away
Anticipating the words that will never be spoken
The torturous ache within my soul
As I lay here exposed before your eyes
Yet here your ignorance keeps you silent
Your depth-less chocolate eyes revealing nothing
The silence spreading like cancer
Hollow words thrown into space
The wasted midnight hours
Trying to salvage these shards of nothing…


A Dream

Because, he had a dream…
We will no longer see colored faces
A grey scale of Copper faces
Black or White no longer a human definition
Violence no longer a means to destroy a nation
A league of races created in God’s perfection
Hate will no longer rein within our hearts
As we hold in fear a pitchfork blazing with segregation
Walls will finally crumble
As his dream Dawns a new beginning
Ancient ruins of Colored and Sexual Hate
Eroded, overpowered by the force of Colorless love

Because, he had a Dream…
He had a Dream
I would be seen not by
The Color of my skin
Or my Sexual orientation
The curves of my Hips
The native tongue I speak
My Ancestral origin
Or by my Genetic Makeup

He had a dream…
I would be seen as Me
A creation of Raw earth
Molded by the same creator

Hope against Hope


Hope against hope: is to continue to hope although the out look does not warrant it…

So its 2 am and my thoughts are of you
Wasting away in dispare
As the flames of my faith dwindles in the balance
Bleeding atoms on paper
As I slowly lose her to the epidemic of darkness
Blasting the melody of rap
As I drown all my sorrow
As his lyrical verse hits my soul with new hope
Rebleeding old scars making my convictions true
Music his fortress 
As these words are my armor
Smoking his stanzas
Inhaling it’s truth
No longer high on substance but
Spacing on the shit that he spits
Because even she gave faith to a child
Who feared God had deserted her
Whose undying hope gave
Hope that even hope is worth fighting for
Speaking prayers through scars
In the hopes he might hear me 
As reality dawns on me through the movement
That surrounds me
Getting lost in the moment
As poetic truth meets the mind of a lyrical soldier
Fighting these same lines
Spreading hope to a world that
Even it was worth saving

Mr. Toby: A Beacon of Truth

wpid-img_20151007_211448.jpgThis Poem is in dedication to a very good friend of mine, Randell E. Toby. He made me see that even in our most darkest hour, we can always achieve greatness. He has inspired me to follow my dreams and to never doubt my self-worth or potential to greatness. He has been like beacon of truth and hope, not only to me, but also to those around him. The following poem is my way of letting him know that I appreciate everything he has done for me. To me, he is the definition of a true Hero! I appreciate the fact that he even framed this poem I wrote for him. 

Take a second to notice
Tainted churches housing dimly lit Faiths
Drowning beneath the arctic waves
Of desolation and disillusion
Destitute men panhandling for hope
On designated street corners
Listen to the silenced confused thoughts
Caged within battered women
Concealing his anger beneath lipstick and mascara
View the tattooed pavements of dejected minorities
Lined in ahsen chalk
As burnt out street lamps on
Barren boulevards hold in secrecy their final breaths
As scenes of cultured hustlers raised by the strip
With GPS codes leading to Satan’s Penitentiary
Are painted on T.V screens for young minds to feed on
Amongst the chaos of mental breakdowns
Vacant havens
Disintegrated dwellings housing ravenous wolves
Fruitless unproductive jobs
And mangled dreams
Amongst the vast darkness a single candle is lit
This vivacious soul rising from the nothingness
A converted Hero of Truth
Shining like a fiery beacon
Guiding literate buffoons to Greatness 

Sequence of 3

We part ways
Moving forever forwards
Neither looking back
Faces passing by
We are transfixed
On the unknown
Never really stopping
Never really going
Steady Motionless motion
Without real significance
Nothing more then
Two irrelevant passerby’s
Trapped within the
Exact same sequence
Of tragic events
We part ways
We move forwards
Going full circle
Destined souls with
Paths leading us
To the same
Destination we met…


Forgetting… you

Forgetting you...

Letters to you are like wasted ink of names tattooed on shattered hearts. Writing to you, in hopes you never receive this, to tell you how much time has yet made me hate you. Wishing against all odds, hoping against all hope, that someday I’ll forget your name. Desperate prayers, tear drenched pleas, that someday I won’t remember your face, your voice, or how much I love you. In time I’ll gather the pieces of what’s left of who I am, knowing many parts of me will be missing, like you are now.

What happens when another holds our heart

To many nights I spent wallowing, mourning the lose of my heart. Watched as days progressed into months, months into years, and after everything I gave to you, your lips calls the name of another lover. But time will one day grace me with the gift of “moving on”. My fragmented heart will mend, these wounds will soon heal. God will soon remind me of the strength our hearts poses, that after being broken time and time again, after countless brutal beatings, it still beats like a steady drum…


Omniscient Eyes

Omniscient Eye

Crescent moon
Dimly lit city
Ashen greystone clouds
Pondering eyes

Hidden pathways
Murky paved roads
Bone bare branches
Melancholy soft whispers

Phosphorescent street lamps
Illuminated love letters
Silent confused hands
Holding eternity within each other