We are born in gaseous nebulas
Ethereal vapors too beautiful for eyes
Yet this fabric must collapse
In order to birth you, a star
Massive energy neatly compressed
Into a beacon of gorgeous fire
From distances vast they appear
Twinkling dew drops on a black canopy
We gaze up in awe and wonder
Never knowing the incredible forces
Residing under the radiant surface
A fusion of ideas continuously churns
Inside the star the ideas become heavy
Dense ideas bring the threat of implosion

I choose light
Though I’ll walk through darkness to attain it

I choose hope
For it carries the tired and wearisome heart

I choose love
Because all else is displaced energy

In nebulae we lie in wait
In time we wade through oceans
Vast seas of plasma glow
Now growing do surround us
I drink elixir from your cup
A million twinkling, fledgling stars
I fill your vessel now with mine
Stellar light combines with ours

As the leaves let go their branches
Into their graceful twirling dance
Touching ground to find new purpose
Their death is but a second chance

Soon the snows will blanket forests
Cover hands now cracked and dry
Beneath a white and sliver carpet
Delivered to them from the sky

Upon the ground the years do pile
Becoming soul food for the tree
Like the leaves keep yearly dropping
Emotions keep escaping me

Oddly less feminine,
was the flower
without the colour
who ate the bees with crunches and these
labor scents of oil and dirt
And nails was the petals that
hissed and spat
the flower, the wonder
who grew through
The legs of a man
Over under, near she ponder
I do slightly ever so wonder
How does one break the hand
Oddly less feminine the flower
Who lacked not the power
who pollinated herself with tender roots,
Who stole the sting from wasp alike,
a flower all white,

Your body looked like a classical Greek statue
Under the nightly dark of some mysterious museum gallery
Soft light on marble skin glowing
Upon warm, pale supple curves
Casting shadows so deep, so irresistibly dark
I plunge into the event horizon of your love
Molecules torn apart
Rearranged in infinite states
I re-emerge, now wholly different
A parallel familiar place
The gallery and mystery
The statue near that dark staircase
Fabric of this dream dissolves
Swept away without a trace

One Kira Noir,
With some Riley Reid,
I know they're not real,
But they're real to me

Indulged in the vice,
Since the age of twelve,
Preacher preached sermon,
"You're going to hell"

Enticing allure,
Calling quietly,
"A little bit more,
Last time you'll see"

What is all of hope,
Trapped in misery,
Washed with bloody cloth,
Rinsed in secrecy

Natural or not,
It feels like prison,
Nothing free about,
This indecision

Everyone likes to talk about the openly oppressed, the accused and the accuser,
But what about the black children forced into a life full of solitary confinement slapped with a label of privileged
You are white, enough
They cheered
Straighten my hair not for looks, and not for myself
But to blend in, be contained and quiet
Curly hair pinned and brushed beyond repair,
Sitting in the hairdressers while they lather concoctions to ‘keep those curls away, and to ‘tame the frizz’
Shunned from my aunties black owned hair salon

between cracks,
i have glimpsed pollinated red flowers
ablaze when illuminated.
i, on the other, a mold
in moisture of dark secluded space
hardly even seeing directly
the glow of mother star
maybe on some fortunate days
inches away, a light beam leaks through
like a thread of white-gold filament,
some stray might even say,
a strand of the sun goddess' hair
mesmerizing, yet still falls short
of badly needed warmth.

May my love pervade your sphere
Enrich and charge the brittle air
Enhance and not invade your space
Hearts beat truth, intentions clear