When you are big and grown
‘Tis better to cry alone.
So I cry when I am all alone
Till the tears are done and worn.
Then I write poetry and feel better
It’s like me writing to me , a letter.
The words I write lessen my pain
My soul’s peace I attain.
Poetry fills the void in my heart
It’s like offloading an emotional cart.
That’s the way I handle my pain
With poetry, my quintessence sustain.
Of violence .
My love for you is there to stay
It drenches me all through the day.
I loved you long before you loved me
Loving you just came to me so easy.
I loved you all through the years
I hold you in my heart like a souvenir.
You bring the stars out in the nights’ hours
I pluck them, wear them in my hair like flowers.
My love for you will never fade
Forever on my mind, when I sleep, when I wake.
I stain my page with your name
I dream of you, my dream you became.
I can go on in this poem about you
Because this is a love I cannot subdue.
Wandering in my dreams
Sensations of motion
Flowing like skein
Against mind discretions
Like a gypsy child
Caught in bohemian haze
To balance the grammar
Airbrush the words
Scintillate the air
I let my poetry nourish me.
Black, white, colored;
Underneath the skin
The same red.
I am a verb ;
I work through my
Personal anguish transforms synapses disproportionately
Painful trauma swipes discriminately
Pushing to self destruction.
Pain takes a swing at distress.
Post trauma seeks emotional discipline.
Human rights humans are never right .
An experiment with minimalism in haiku.
My every thought
Becomes a poem ;
The many ways
My ink flows.