tide & moon

tide & moon

i am your tide

& you are my moon

you pull the rhythm of me

& guide me through darkness

i am faithful in my motion

ceaseless as an elliptical orbit

we are water reflecting sky

incomplete each without the other

i will carry your water dear

if you will again swim in my sea

hoods (justice pt. 2)

hoods (justice pt. 2)

“So the thing that bothered me most was that the condemned man had to hope the machine would work the first time….I’d been struck by this picture because the guillotine looked like such a precision instrument, perfect and gleaming.” Albert Camus, The Stranger, pp. 111, 112

we pretend this is our past

although sullied and something we have moved beyond

our dark history we proclaim

those public executions

hooded and marched onto the platform for guillotine or noose

the faceless justice rendering criminal

•

the white noise of the machine of justice

this zombie lullaby driving our march

black boys in the hood

a black boy in a hoodie

always up to no good

stand your ground

gun them down

black and brown

these living dead should haunt us

doomed caged cast aside instead

justice

justice

For TM, July 14, 2013

justice is a crystal ball

not a brick thrown

it is a promise

of this will be

there will be no need

for tears shed in mourning

justice is a hand extended

and not an open wound

justice is the final mirror

for everyone anywhere to see

justice is a whisper

justice is a shout

justice is a fist raised

justice is a head bowed

justice is a statue

justice wears a blindfold

but in the hands of humans

justice is a noose

justice is a hand cuff

justice is a prison cell

justice is a hollow cry

justice is a bitter lie

broken heart (walking in the rain)

broken heart (walking in the rain)

Gertrude: O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain

Hamlet: Oh, throw away the worser part of it,

And live the purer with the other half.

Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 4

i dreamed of temporary tattoos

walking on the beach & towering cities

& i swear to god i dreamed of you

people speak of broken hearts

and i suppose my heart is broken

but it seems to me it has been erased

i am a tongue that no longer tastes

finger tips that cannot feel a thing

eyes & ears trapped in a dark box

•

i often see two women walking

both white-haired and rail thin

they seem almost too frail to stand

walking with shared determination

the shorter woman holding the elbow

of the taller and weaker companion

i have no idea who these women are

life-long friends or sisters or lovers

but i know with all lucid certainty

that they have each other entirely

that tugs at the memory of my heart

lying on the beach we walked together

•

summers are usually times of drought

but days have been dampened by storms

i often walk in the rain crying because
almost no one notices beneath umbrellas

a couple of brief couplets

a couple of brief couplets

1.

it is not fair

that you’re so rare

2.

be

free