A letter to my father in Poetry

Father and son, Rob Marmion / Shutterstock.com Dear dad, I wonder if you have pictures of me, and reminisce on the times we used to play basketball in the park, Do you remember playing your PlayStation basketball game? and me watching right next to you trying to learn the controls, and getting frustrated that I…

Fear

Fear liquidates through the psyche and infuses itself within our minds, decimating rationality within an instant. Shredding any sentiments of desire to realize, That fear feels like pressure condensing your head and testing your ability to navigate through the challenge in front of you. We quiver in fear when the unknown is presented to us….

Black love

Love from the root, all the way to the treetop. The very feeling of Black love is in its core a natural phenomenon. The dedication to one another to grow, the need to fight oppression, the need to create, to love, to live, to learn There is something about black love that is so massive,…

A hopeless creative

I’m a hopeless creative because when I think that I’ve made it  I’m reminded by the world that I haven’t changed shit I’m a hopeless creative because when I get stuck in this mayhem  The universe aligns perfectly and spits out my new initiative I’m a hopeless creative because I can generate thoughts That birth…

Black art

You ever feel the flavor in black art? The wonderful magic that comes with collaborating style, Substance, pain, culture and pure raw energy? You ever see the coconut oil and curling creams emancipating themselves From hair, as it stands out in permeates good vibes into the air of a black person? Have you ever seen…

Doubt. Pt2

I can feel it creeping in… That darkness, the pure form of doubt I can feel it scratching at the walls of this layered house  I designed to keep it out, but the Clouds of doubt block the sun  And are creeping through every crevasse  Attempting to shroud my thoughts with pain and suffering Planning…

Dear basketball

The way that rubber ball hits the sleek hardwood floor… The sweet soliloquy of life The sheer symphony of the muse that devastates the room and leaves all watching in awe. There is nothing more sweet, nothing more present Nothing more magical than when that ball goes into the rim. That is life, that is…

Losses

I have a healing relationship with losing It’s funny right? The concept of having a good relationship with losing? Who does that? Most people hate losing, They hate the feeling They despise feeling like they hadn’t accomplished something Me, I’m a contrary nigga Losses an I are best friends We play, we chill, we know…