Archive | March, 2010

folding memories

29 Mar

folding memories
into notes shoved secretly
into pockets,
she’s dressed
in all the stories
her children will hear
one day –
she will never
wash those jeans.
carrying love songs
and prayers
and doodled thoughts
that look
like hearts and flowers,
and pieces of the sky.
and names
she wants to own one day.
she has stuffed her pockets
with everyday,
fitting memories
into too-short words –
just to carry them.

(artwork by chidi okoye)

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school (in haiku)

29 Mar

a student sits still,
contemplates another “fail”
“school just ain’t for me.”

i can still feel you.

26 Mar

yesterday i watched someone’s eyes search my face, discovering and remembering and promising never to forget – i wonder if he found the things i wanted him to see.

i fell asleep as his hands explored me, whispering the sweetest of lovely things – pleasant things i want to replay, and feel again. over and over, and forever.

this morning i woke with his fingertips still resting on my skin, memories kissing me in his absence.

i can still feel him.

(artwork by andrew nichols)

writer’s block, or paralysis.

7 Mar

i could not move fast enough
so now i can’t move at all.
time has grabbed my hands
and squeezed my fingers numb.
the seconds walk past me,
taunting me –
i am rediscovering
something i fear.
someone once told me
your heart could move
your pen.
liar.

(artwork by marcellous)

sweet on him.

6 Mar

wild bee,
searching for
nectar
in every part of me.
sugar consumption,
or production
or you know what i mean.
but forget science,
i am sweet
on him.

honey drips
differently
than water,
ever watch it fall?
i have.

(artwork by alex mbugua)

this time it’s different…

6 Mar

this is a poem my girl, denice frohman, and i did together. she sent me the first part randomly one day and told me at the end, “now you go.” she’s one of my poetry heroes, so i did. we’re gonna keep this going, look out for more later. and make sure you check out denice’s blog at http://denicepoet.wordpress.com… she’s legit.

tell me this time
it’s different,
climb to the tallest mountain
and swing down its hips
like billie holiday and them do

waltz along the nile
make me believe
in the ballroom of a
hip hop song.
slow dancing on top rock and windmill

moving for the first time…

running up and down
the bass strings of cracked streets
and broken hearts
you will forget them
here.
yeh,
this time it’s different.

so how bout we stay high
on some jazz notes
pass Ls from banjos to Ella,
swing into new methods
and make off-beats
the melodies
of all our songs

we can music, baby.
i think i love you like Coltrane…

(artwork by maurice evans)

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