Sing for me August
Bang the dust
Get the moon up late
And let the cotton dance
Sing for me August
Bang the dust
Get the moon up late
And let the cotton dance
Quietly in the rain, I sit, wondering if she does the same.
I know you care
you didn’t want to lead me on
you’re a sweet girl
but I need a bitch
someone who’ll slap me
to wake me from these deepening dreams
these monstrous feelings
It’s a problem with a thousand heads
it has to be caged
deep in some forgotten dungeon
I may still hear their cries resonating off hollow chambers
but hopefully it will only be at night
at the precipice of sleep
I find myself once more on the precipice of disappointment and despair,
I know it’s coming now, surely as night follows day,
The dawn broke over the darkness and brought light briefly to my world,
But the polar day in winter lasts a heartbeat,
A single flutter of hope in my soul was all the light I saw,
I long for summer when the days stretch to weeks and years,And there’s nothing but light and joy for all there,
But I must soldier on through the winter, hoping to come out the other side.
I don’t believe easy,
But you convinced me,
With nerdy glasses,
And sideways glances,
I disassembled my shields,
Thought we were on an “even” playing field,
But my youth, and my sympathies,
Started turning ‘me’s into ‘we’s.
I dug deep, found what made you
Into the big-hearted nerd that I’d do
Anything to make feel complete.
Imagine the shock at my defeat:
Your half-truths and secrets
All began to fit
In this perfect maze
Of hearts you’ve played.
I might be young, as well as innocent,
But I’ve never been dumb.
You don’t know it yet
But feeling the repercussions is a sure bet.
I know you’re a young man,
But you should know:
He’ll hath no fury like an angry female.
You are the sun, never to rise again
And you are my eyes, never to see again
You are my words, bad English that is broken
You are the stars, unclear from all the clouds,
You are my favourite pair of shoes, covered in mud.
You are my memories, keeping me unwell
You are gone.
And it hurts like fucking hell.
in a meadow
he stands waiting
by the tree line
where the grass
his arms are open
and I run to him
but my feet
are made of lead
planted in the thick mud
who tells me to stay
why would you leave?
we’re under the sun
safe from all harm
and the sky’s always clear
i’m in the dark,
i’m not free
by all of your joys
and I can’t seem
to find mine
so i look at him
and his eyes are
the blue rings of saturn
of the world beyond
of a galaxy far away
and I know
that I will reach them
they hold patience
and they blink innocence
they wait for me
to join them
to take them
past the tree line
where the grass
Big bruises, strange lumps,
Worried mom, anxious dad
I feel fine.
I am not worried.
They will poke and prod to find a problem.
But I am fine.
Friendly nurses, painful scars,
PET Scans, results
Scary hospital, all alone,
PIC line, nausea
I feel sick.
I do not want to do this treatment.
They say it will only be six weeks.
But I feel sick.
Single room, breathing tubes,
I hear them talking.
I know that it is worse then they are telling me.
They say everything will be fine,
But I hear them talking.
Feeling better, staying calm,
Long hours, sick days,
I am trying to stay positive
I make friends with the other patients.
They say that I will be here for a while.
But I am trying to stay positive.
Friendly smiles, girly giggles,
Cheesy quotes, balding head,
I like this boy.
I know he is sick and probably doesn’t feel the same,
They tell us that it’s important to focus on our own battle.
But I like this boy.
Fourth floor, Go fish,
TV shows, sneaking out,
I finally feel normal.
I know there is a chance that it may come back.
They say to prepare for the worst.
But I finally feel normal.
Tumor check, big smiles,
New school, old friends,
I made it.
I can focus on school and friends.
They say I still need watch my health,
But I made it.
Dinner dates, growing up,
Graduation ceremony, Montana State
I will miss that boy.
I know I have to stay here.
They say he will be back in the summer.
But I will miss that boy.
Skype calls, text messages,
Far away, first fight,
I am excited for him to come home.
I know that summer will be here soon.
They said we wouldn’t make it this long,
But I am excited for him to come home.
Intense pain, home early,
Scary night, 911 calls,
I hope for the best.
I know that he is strong.
They say he is not well.
But I hope for the best.
White face, blue lips
Black eyes, cold feet,
I hope for one more day.
I know he can do this.
They say he may not come back this time.
But I hope for one more day.
Blue beanie, black tux,
Empty hands, hurting heart,
Self hatredBred fed beginning from slaverySteal my language from meSeparate me from my kinAnd KKK my propertyBred hatred into meWhen all I needed was a piece of bread to help me get through the dayCotton fieldsRed sunThe south was always too hot on meBurningsHangingsThis is how you raise meAmericaMy country tis of theeSweet land of inequalityHypocrisy your historyPresentWith no jobs you present meTeen pregnancyIncarcerations of the 3/5thsI see means nothing to youYou won’t understandUntil you know Afro bluesTwenty first centuryAs I celebrate my 21stI realize there ain’t nothing to celebrateAs I see ignorance halo the minds of the black folkThat once made you bluesThat once created jazz for youAnd made gospel have soulJesus Christ wouldn’t have been Christ without African Americans’ pastAmerica wouldn’t be so rica without black sweats in the cotton fieldsAnd your little girls would have been nothing without CoraAmericaThe place of the immigrantsYet why is it whites don’t mention another continent before youWhile the Americans you once considered 3/5thsHave toAmericaSelf hatred you brew'Oh those blacks, good riddance'When past are children’s livesSouth side Chicago crimesAlways on my mindYou gave me propsYou gave me the videos on TVYou have me on drugsAll sorts of distractionsAnd you distructed meAmerica home of the imprisoned freeTake away my historyWhipe away my identityScold me when I do wrongWhen I can’t find the disciplineYou once took away from meWhen you took me from my kinAnd KKK’ed my identityCross burningsYou claimed Jesus loved you moreFor getting rid of meAmericaHome of the freeAmerica-Close public schools downAnd open new ones across gang territoriesWhen it comes to the poor kidsOur budget is a bit tightFinancial crisis occurs to banksAnd we bail them outAmericaHome of the richAmericaWhat can you do for the poor?What can you do to right your wrongs?Your racismAs ears are closed to the hundreds and hundreds of lives lost in Chicago’s southAs eyes don’t mindThe hundreds and hundreds of lives lost in Chicago’s westWould you have reacted the same if she was NorthIf she was East?Self hatered you bred into meKinky hairAin’t good enoughRelax it immediatelyA history of single mother homesDismantled familiesTell me how you’re surprised that our current president might be the only one who grew up without a dadDoes it surprise you lessIf I told you he is blackAmerica-Judge meScold meBut you ain’t do nothing for meTill you educate meCreate a better future for meStop making me beThe dealer of your drugsWhile you accumulate your richesI’m in prisonVainly awaiting you to bail meAmerica you home to no one like meAmerica you discriminateThe black culture you cultivatedNow you scoldSingle parent homesClaiming our black men aren ‘t good enoughFit your stereotype that black is badNo sense of education in our youthYou complain of our ignoranceWhile ‘don’t teach them how to read’Was once your Jim Crow lawI’m sick of hearing negative comments about my peopleEverywhere I go'They're too lazy,They just get by,Fathers don’t raise their sons right,And mom she’s on drugs’I hear ‘em complain about blacksAs if black was noting humanJust a fraction3/5ths3/5thsAre we even 3/5ths of a person?People care more about their dogs than a black man’s sonTrayvon Martin'They made us hate ourselvesAnd love their wealth…’Kanye westSecond class citizensWhen it was us who made her a citizenThe riches of the cotton fieldsWas watered by our sweats andPlowed with our bloodThere would have been no ElvisWithout such ‘second class’ citizensThere would have been no civil rights for womenHad it not been for the black civiliansWho demanded America to step up to her own constitutional lawsYet our peopleThey’re considered less smartAnd a black student always has to prove her selfBecause she is always watchedAmericaDon’t you ever give me those negative comments about the citizens you consider 3/5thsWithout offering a tangible solutionTo the problems you yourself createdIn the times of slaveryWhen you never thought there’d be a timeWhen you’d have to be considered equal to those you once enslavedIt was never your planTo integrateBut since segregationIs no longer dejuroYou figure your second option is to discriminateThis is all your workingsso don’t have the nerve to talk to meAbout the problem you’re having with your 3/5thsUntil you talk to meGeneounlyAbout the citizensWho should have been considered your 5/3rds…"Men talk of the Negro problem. There is no Negro problem. The problem is whether the American people have honesty enough, loyalty enough, honor enough, patriotism enough to live u to their own Constitution" -Fredrick Douglas (Schiff, 32)
Her touch washes over me
Invading every crevice of my being
She melts me with a finger
Like a chocolate bar, gone without eating
Her gaze is like a gush of wind
The relief has come and passed
Her eyes shine like a coin in the fountain
Come end of the night I wish to see them last
Her mind is an open field
I’m lost and not trying to be found
I’m not aware of where I want to reach
Amazed, I keep turning around and around
Her hair flows like waves of auburn grain
Swaying back and forth in the wind
Soft on my fingers, on my hands, on my face
I could never escape after she let me in
Her laugh is like a sweet, sweet tune
That I play over and over again
I close my eyes and hear her giggle
It washes away the pain
Her smile is a ray of sun
That can wash away the bad
It blocks out all but her
She’s the one I wish I had
Her body is like a sculpture
A temple of pure divinity
Curves honest like the coast line
Goddess of the holy trinity
Her sadness destroys me
Like a dilapidated shack
I want her to feel happy
Always try to bring the smile back
Her voice is soft and quiet
Open like the ocean deep
I lay my head down to rest
Hoping I’ll hear it while I’m asleep
Her touch is warm and friendly
But it turns me straight to ice
I freeze when I try to talk with her
Is this what love feels like?