Poetry Challenge Day 23: I Sense You…

I sense you,

but I can’t see you.

I know you,

but you are a “stranger”.

I follow you,

though I don’t know where you are going.

Our paths have crossed and are about to cross again.

Destiny’s date is with us.

We will recognize each other at the ordained time.

Until then I will Love, Laugh and Live,

in the knowledge of our coming joyous

love.

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Poetry Challenge Day 22: If I Am Lost…

If I am lost will you help guide me,

and stand beside me,

even though I am not on the right path.

Sometimes I get lost because my compass

was stolen by those who were supposed to care for me.

If I am wandering aimlessly will you wander with me?

If you take the wrong turn with me,

maybe we can both turn around into our dreams.

Poetry Challenge Day 21: I Will Keep Writing….

I will keep writing,

I will keep pushing,

I will keep smiling,

I will keep laughing,

I will keep loving,

I will keep walking

Though I may face pain, rejection and rain.

I will keep on because so many have sacrificed for me.

I will press on because God has empowered me.

I will rejoice in a love that will last for eternity.

Sculpture created at Project Onward a gallery and studio for artist with developmental disabilities. -projectonward.org

 

Poetry Challenge Day 20: Black Beauty

Black Beauty,

Black is Beautiful.

Beholders Eye,

Behold Me!

           Take by me at the 2010 Armory Show Artist Unknown

 

 

Poetry Challenge Day 19: Unbonded

I must learn again to bond

after losing my first friend, sibling and wombmate.

I must learn again to trust

after feeling abandoned from day one.

I must learn again to share

after losing the first person I ever shared food, water and shelter with.

I must learn again to light the flame of love

after my twin flame was snuffed out.

How can I mourn a loss that was so early?

How can I mourn the loss of someone that only mother and I knew?

Silence suffocates.

I am grateful for all I have today

but I still feel that someone has been missing.

I need to cry 30 year old tears.

If we were home in a Yoruba village

we would have been given a healing  ritual and divine guidance

but we lived in the ghetto so loss was expected.

At least this Black male would not know the

pain of stop and frisk, hustling and gun shots

he would die eventually so why not today?

There was no ritual, no tears, no village to raise us;

one on earth and the other in ancestorland.

No knowledge that there is no separation

between the living and the dead.

Just my mother’s silent tears and

my unspoken fear that I won’t ever be able to bond again.

                      Taken at Museum of Natural History

Poetry Challenge Day 18: A Psalm of Joy

Today’s poem was inspired by a prompt from Writing the Sacred: A Palm Inspired Path To Appreciating and Writing Sacred Poetry by Ray McGinnis.

Divine parent-mother and father, human and divine,

I give you thanks with my entire being;

before the sun, moon and stars I declare your praise.

You pull the orphan close feeding her with the eternal milk of your unconditional love.

When I was invisible you saw me in my distress;

even when others refused to look upon me.

Your grace and mercy follow me all of my days,

like twin companions  flanking me on each side during this sojourn we call life.

Who can quantify your ways or figure  out your favor?

With joy I will share my testimony with all who need encouragement along the way.

Your praise will continually be upon my pen as I write of your just ways.

Your divine love will light my path as I illuminate the darkness for your glory.

                                  Photo by Onleilove

Poetry Challenge Day 17: The Womb

Circular Darkness.
Deep within lies our soul’s container.

Our wombs hold our dreams and the cosmic artwork we will call forth.
Tied to the moon a cycle of death and rebirth occurs within us in intervals of 28.
We must love our womb and all that it can create.
The seat of our soul, the womb is eternity within our flesh.

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Poetry Challenge Day 16: A Poetic Balm for a Weary Soul

Covered in dust and sweat he came to the end of another demeaning work day.

Smiling when he had every right to frown, laughing when the joke was on him.

His hands blistered from the hard labor and his heart callous as well.

Each day he felt their sickness towards him take root deeper and deeper into his soul.

As he arrived home and walked through the threshold he felt like he was crossing over

from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of light-

her light, her smile a balm to his soul.

He worked so hard to shield her from scrubbing floors and tending children not her own.

As she welcomed him home it all seemed worth it.

After the children were all tucked in she read Hughes, Angelou and Baraka to him.

As they lay in bed with his arms wrapped around her,

she administered this poetic balm and he was healed to go on another day.

Image

                         Taken at Chicago’s Lake Shore