Wednesday, May 04, 2005


clouds bitter poison
inert darkened rain

my back is dampened,
moist like the lips of my mama
like the eyelids of my papa


a new word, a new mindset
to view myself, my kids
my parents and wife
to be known this way

i worked my way

to enter this place
to be received this way

clouds bite the chosen
insert darkened rain

now things dry down
die down in this deserted town
lie down for the taking and the raping


shout from the rooftops
the roof’s torn down
taking it to the streets
the mean old way

clouds choose to give life
i choose to stay inside


  1. ....

    (that's to show my AWE after reading this piece)

    This one hit my gut. Also did a detour through my skin, capillaries and veins and pumped right to my heart.

    My ancestry is built in the skeleton of this poem. It's phenomenal. Everyone who's an immigrant (or comes from an immigrant family, like me) can relate to this.

    Cesaire would call this piece 'creating a universal fraternity'...because it's hard to speak in someone else's voice, yet still be personal. And you did. I don't even feel the icky slime of politics emanating from it.

    I think it's time to pull out the *swoon.* For I swoon your poetry.

  2. wow.

    thanks jadon. thanks miss volt.

    no pressure, eh?

    "tomorrow i WON'T fail, i WON'T fail, i WON'T sail, i Won't... D'OH!"


Be kind. Rewind.