A Toast

A parched throat makes for difficult speech… Instead of clearly communicating, you find yourself throat clearing, self jeering, eyes watering, mind wondering when this hacking will begin departing, all the while knowing that – it’s really not attractive.  You can see into souls through eye windows, the dimming glow as their response to your unintended show… It almost does not matter what you know, because like a dam, your words have lodged in your throat blocking your flow… Releasing spittle and foam at random intervals – overall damage is minimal, but the purpose in which you originally opened your mouth to complete has died all of its lives, and it’s game over – Nintendo.

But you know that it is not your fault… You needed just a bit of moisture, as some fine cuisine needs only a mere dash of salt… But without Mrs. Dash, appearance is divorced from success, like dollar signs taken off of cash… The end result being paper scraps… Tidbits, leftovers, unwanted – anything synonymous with trash… Because anything not done wholly simply will… not… last.  … And it is ironic because you can feel the tangibility of what it is you want to say deep inside your very being… Some wondrous thing – or perhaps simple – yet nevertheless unexpressed that only your eyes are seeing.  Ahhh if only you didn’t have a noose delivery!

A tendency to get choked up from the throat up when it’s something vital from your heart that needs expressing!  Vision is both a curse and a blessing… You wish that you could just pop a pill discreetly, or take a sip of some magical serum, to free you from this self induced delirium, after-all what good are above average thoughts if you must live in fear of them…?  … Looking… Searching… Waiting… Your soul knowing… That there is an answer… There is a way out of this moat… There is a cure – there is an antidote… There is a little known diner on the outskirts of town… A little further than just a ways away, but closer than too long would take… Open to any who care to pass through its doors into peace, and reverberating revelation… Who have an appetite that yields only unto satiation…

In this diner, the sparkling diamond glasses are for every occasion – for every moment in life is special.  Here – there is no such thing as wasted. No concept of the term “outdated,” no reference for existing without existence and purpose being mated… It’s not Heaven – but it surely is not earth… Just a small, easily missed diner… The menu?  Your heart’s desire.  The sign hanging over the counter only says “Higher.”  Order whatever you like, with whatever sides, anything you can think in your mind can be made manifest, for the deep recesses of thought – are who you are.

… There is but one drink served here however, and accompanies every meal… It unstops your throat, and has a rather curious feel… Smooth going down, but it can make your heart race, or your body shake… Tears may stream down your face – but tongues are always loosened, and obstacles are parted, that one may behold one’s goals… The ears become sensitive to the word “go,” ambition oblivious to the word no, and all too often the diner echoes with fearless declaration of “look out below!!!”  This – this special drink, birthed from the progression of time to meet human needs like dough… This elegant glass of shimmering power that can unblock your throat… THIS – is wine for the soul.

~The Wordsmith



I can feel the ice beneath my feet. This mountain peak tastes like the first time I ever had Christmas dinner with someone else’s family. Heels slip and my toe sinks into a frosty puddle of regret that sets me shivering.

Getting weak at the knees. 

Who knew freedom from you meant loneliness with me. 

I scream from between the falling trees of Mount Everest’s seams and I know it made a sound… there’s just nobody around to tell me what it means. I’m like the smartest person in the world- all out of degrees- but it is the two who are better than one, for when they lie down, they have heat.

Where do I climb to next, when jumping would be my greatest delight? Or maybe not. Beneath this thermal underwear is a suit of armor I built from lightning… protecting the deepest scar I ever got of being abandoned by someone I always thought would be right beside me.

I’ve been squinting into the wind chill, Jesus swag, for so long, I can’t always tell when my hallucinations are generating mirage anymore.

Are you real?

Are you just like me?

Or are you too much like me.

The rain becomes my company and the sleet my faithful lover. They never speak. They never understand a word I say. Flicks of crystallized isolation discarded from the sky coat the gnarled speed bumps along my tongue… entomb rivers of affection in glaciers at the back of my throat…

I have a friend who once told me that I’m a hopeless romantic-

Which isn’t romantic at all.

Just hopeless.



Why is it that I can’t suffer in silence?

A blade of grass has more strength than me, stepped on all the time, defecation in steaming streams…

But no tears. No screams.

Writing is the super ability God has given to me, but fear steals my presence from the gift in me

Terrified of sounding weak, or sustaining a lyrical breach, nobody will take me seriously if I don’t Sodom and Gomorrah all performances and always kill everything 

But the pressure sometimes feels like it’s breaking me

I keep looking around, expecting to see diamonds, but my handprints are opposites of Midas, I lift them up and whoops something else is dying

I keep winning at stuff I’m not trying at, but as soon as I give it my attention it runs away from me like a grade school crush to the other side of the class

Do you know what that’s like?

My mom is sun 

My dad is night 

I’m equipped to inhabit any environment, no child left behind, but I still can’t seem to get it right

Poetry is starting to feel like my only outlet, although no power’s coming out yet, she understands that I’m a complicated love, never threatens to make me her ex…

I feel like I missed the peak I never reached, all this power quivering to be unleashed, you should see me when I spazz out and get angry, there’s a glimpse of the indomitable titan that I can be… or once was… my career took off and exploded without me…

I’m just dancing in the shower of sparks the fireworks of my dreams left behind.

Sometimes I wanna call my cousin and share my complexities, but I always second guess it, because I never wanna disappoint or discourage her

I was supposed to be the strong one

I don’t get it

Now I’m Andre three thousand

The outcast sibling

This emotional well is endless, even when this verse is over it still hasn’t ended yet

I’m still questioning, is this poetry or the cadence to reader’s digest

Can you pinpoint the tip of a flickering candle?

That word just on the edge of your tongue?

That fond memory just out of reach?

If so, then maybe…

Just maybe…

You can see me.


I Became It

I pretend not to think about you
Only as long as I can hold my breath
And when I desperately inhale…
There you are filling my lungs again
These memories of us
I replant them to keep them from fading
Water them with longing
To keep them from wilting
I have this dream that one day you’ll return
And tend this garden with me
That with fingers interlocked
And my eyes reflecting yours
We will make memories anew

Life might be possible without you
But there is no soul in it
Love blusters and bumbles
But in the end it is the only sure thing we have
Falling in love with you
Was like a deep sea dive from the top of the moon
It wasn’t instant… it wasn’t at all quick…
But as soon as my fingertips touched the waters
I knew I would never long for anybody else ever again
You consumed me
And were not repulsed
You took my ugliness in your hands
And loved it the most

Love is the prize of a relentless friendship
Cool waters and succulent honey
After the chaos of battle
Love is telepathy and alien magic
Love is when I look across the room
And you’re already smiling at me
There is no hole in my heart
Just a longing for your presence
A presence I will never take for granted again

Because I didn’t just fall in love
Thanks to your tender touch
I became it


Making Friends


Friendship didn’t used to be this hard…
Or did it
I’ve been alone a long time

In my head it’s so easy, to be the type of being that sees a feasible we out of you and me, peeping a new friend like a bird in a willow tree. But now every time I go to flap my wings, I discover they only want me to have happy penguin feet. They want me fly, not in flight. Out of mind, when in sight.

It’s confusing.

Didn’t we get off on the same foot like new movements? Spark hard like two fuses? Connect sharp like Bruce bruises? Form a bond like chem 22 students?

Then why do I feel like you were just playin with me. Why do I feel like I can’t lead with my identity, even though that’s what paved the way for me. You know I’m not desperate for likes or to be liked- I just don’t understand why when lightning strikes into the bottle, you wanna smash it at my feet.

If we’re not really friends, why did you smile when we discovered we were threads clipped from the same golden tapestry?

Friendship didn’t used to be this hard…
Or did it
I’ve been alone a long time

But maybe this is my fault. I rejected the method for being likeable. I kept the best parts about me all to myself. Why flaunt what I’m always dancing with, when if you stick around you can join the glide across the floor too. Why brag about what makes me different from most individuals- I refuse to blow up my ego, when we can just build this casual castle together and then you’ll see too.

Maybe it’s because I’m a boy and you’re a girl.
Maybe cuz I’m all black and you’re a swirl.
Maybe texts at midnight make you hurl.
Maybe texts in daylight wreck your world.

All I know is people like you and me don’t come along often. It’s awkward, right when I think this ice cream life cannot soften you drop in like a Jobs pin, finding water in a Mars pit. I should be exhausted or nauseous, but the fostered prospect of finding another me out in the wild yonder brings my fingers and arms uncrossed to light the rocket, throwing rocks at dead dreams to wake up and quit playing possum!

… but right when I thought it’d be you and me in the stars…
You casually let me know, there’s only space between our hearts…
My voice is on house arrest, yelling through the void…
But not even God makes friends- He loves all in and hopes He’s not ignored.

… Friendship didn’t used to be this hard…
Or did it
I’ve been alone a very long time


United State of Delirium

Father forgive me
For I know not what I do
This synthetic independence
Is hypocritical confusion
I turned my own sword hand against me
Using the blade that freed me
To keep these others subdued
In the dark of night
Where mumbled prayers
Come crawling to a stop
I found the ogre of my personal truth
Quivering, waiting for me
A shimmering spectre spawning out of the mirror
… I do not enjoy liberty
I enjoy being LIBERATED
I aced the taste test
Of makeshift greatness
And locked up the recipe
I don’t want to be that different
I just want to be perceived differently
And treated better for it
But Father
Things are spiraling out of control
I am paralyzed by the fear
Of transforming my ways
Haunted by the implosion
Of staying the same
Because both require the forfeit
Of some bit
Of my power
Father forgive me…
You gave me this independence
Assuming that I’d spin it
Into anti deficit benefit
But instead I remain
The failed graduate of justice academy
The grand master of hellfire alchemy
I took what was designed to be gold
And I turned it into chains

Happy Independence Day