Poem 44: Why I Will Fall in Love

Unpublished from Jan 2014

I’m going to dive head first
Into water or concrete
Thinking of only
The cool dip of my fingertips
Can’t imagine anything
But swimming
Forever on one breath of him- even

Wear white again
If it meant I could spend
My life with him
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Feminist Papers 2: Illumi-Not Them

Situation Report: Illumi-Not Them

Their handy-work goes by society, the elite—decision-makers; the real players—the payers, the beyond pay—the eternity seekers. They have been described as the crabs in a barrel pulling them back as if that were the same thing as helping them escape if they wanted such. Keeping them that way ensures they pose no threat to their own success and the legacy for their like. They square the root of evil for power so it neither falls on their watch nor advances without their thumbprint. They are often called haters, card-holders, king-makers and deck-stackers– to sway beliefs and preferences—unsatisfied, they seek to better calculate and predict them- to stay aligned with their comforts, traditions, and desires. They were there first; they were born first; they thought of it first; they were slighted first; their pain and story are more important—any justification works. Continue reading

My Fav Halloween Story in 1 Minute

There is a really cool Halloween story about a little man being chased in the dark of night in his own neighborhood by his giant creepy nemesis. Desperate and in fear for his life, he got the courage to fight back.

Must’ve taken every ounce he could muster from his small frame to fight his way to escape. He believed that the bloody scene meant that he had triumphed against the foe who haunted him….at first

Follow the link to hear the story ending’s interesting twist. Enjoy! Happy Halloween

Excerpt from “My Mind is Playing Tricks on Me” performed by Bushwick Bill

Poem 22: Fear of Fear

Phobophobiac

Trapped beneath

‘The man’ and a ‘system’

That’s down. Drowning. Afraid

I’m not showing up in it anyway

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The Fairest Town

Mired in misery and fear is a southern town some say lost its hospitality along the way. Where comfort is a waterfront plantation on a hilltop nestled between wealth and privilege for as many generations as recorded in the town’s historic buildings. And the beauty of days past is dutifully preserved in gardens in ever perfect bloom arising from ancient soil. Distance calls it perfection.

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Part 2: Rest in Peace or Pieces


“Sarn’t!”

“Sir!…..Over.”

“This is Warrior 5. Sir. Pat yourself on the back with your free hand; draw a bar in the mud on your forehead…”

“Sir I’m honor…”

“Day old tea?! Lieutenant -one day or one month? Over.”

“T minus one day, Sir.”

Excerpt Peace or in Pieces 1

Part 1 Excerpt: Rest in Peace or in Pieces

“Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot….”

“Roger that, Warrior 5. What the fu.., Sir. Over”

“Confirm. Sit-Rep in two fife.”

“I copy: Situation report in 25 minutes. Location in fife. Over.”

“…Eyes on Juliet?” Clicking noise.

“Three scout teams no commo, Sir, Over.”

“Damnit!” Shouts Warrior 5. Brief white noise followed by a faint click. Silence.

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The Feminist Papers

The following is the first in a fiction series called “The Feminist Papers” For now, these letters and correspondence will have to do in place of Nerd Words. As always, thank you for reading. Please enjoy.
-LoveMeka

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Nerd Words: Literal Arts

Nerd World

That’s a post-secondary area of study, right? The study of trying to find a job with it -ology? Noooo. I literally don’t feel that way. Every egghead, non-prescription-spectacle-wearin’-geek-wanna-be-with-a-mouse, or nerd-stalkin’-senior-year-opportunist who has accidentally glanced at a ripped note BEFORE crushing it into enough saliva to make a “spitball” with enough density to propel it at the angle available using the perfect air pressure to reach the velocity required to adhere it to the classroom CEILING…. Knows:

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Let it Go to Your Head

You’re perfectly beautiful to me.

Princess?

You’re already a queen.

Before you could walk, your crawl

Stood tall and your eyes

walked a man like a dog

The earth resolved

to turn and revolve

The bright shiny light you brought

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Poem 12: Something. Look. Say.

Something

Freshly plastered imprints of fist-prints on a wall

A grown child grips her tattered book, while

Split lips mouth a prayer she memorized from it

Brown hair even looks just like her mother’s- perfect

For concealing a belt buckle cut- from neck

To shoulder, but she knows to cover her face

Unbeknownst they showed her long ago

“I was a bastard”. He says as he knelt;

Open hands toward her neck…clasped her

New gold crucifix; it’s just above her covered chest

Look.

Cold eyes warm as he hugs her– tells her he loves

Her. Through melted eyes, he looked just like…

When he took her hand to hold and adorned it

With gold from fingertips to her sliced wrists

As her sadness evaporates in a child- like bliss

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