I have a light, a poem.

I have a light,
I carry it within me.

But all I see is unfamiliar.

I’m sudduced by them,
Forgetting myself,
Only to wake in
confusion.

Then I remembered that
I can close my eyes
to see.

Little cowardly men….a poem.

Men of little hearts,
fearful, greedy, spineless,
throw bibles from
bushes in Balboa Park,
Dark in Supreme Court dresses
at women they can’t have
Or be.

Their country pulling away,
No matter how the cowardly
pull at the people.

I say,
In my Betty Boop
shorty shorts,
‘you’re fake,
Let there be War….’

They pull
their robes up and
run away.

04.25.2022

I wish slavery had never been a thing.

Because some fetishes shouldn’t exist.

Remembering history has a way of ruining a date or one night stand.

M0aybe I’m too conservative, (naw, it doesn’t fit me at all, but “conservative”, will do).

Sexualizing slavery doesn’t do it for me, and it upsets me with some of the white guys I’ve been with.

It’s an immediate turn off.

This world is all f$&ked up.

04.16.2022

I have to admit, that I’m somewhat an ogre.

Before I knew myself, I thought ogres were not real, just the thing of fairy tales.

But it costs to have self knowledge.

I found that there were few ogres to date, let alone a community, or friendships.

Gradually I’m coming to terms with that.

It has, although lonely, allowed me to practice my spirituality as a spirituality of one.

And that makes me complete.

never….

Hit in violence
the one you love,
….even in self defense
but walk away.

Don’t run,
(unless there be bullets),
hold your head up
high,
back straight
into the
night….

Because violence corrupts.

Moma’s son, a poem.

Just a whore from Woodward….

I got around,
And
that what momma
said was true:

‘If ya’ gonna give it
away free, do it with your
head held high,
even
while on your knees.’

So I wonder about abortion rights,
and why some have
sold their souls.

10 Foot Pole Rule, prose

Hard to be alone,
but I am.

True uniqueness means
you’re alone.
No one to learn from.
No one to love.

It’s not a bad life, really.

No conversations that leads
to argument or bloodshed.

The freedom to walk your path.

No more heartaches or distrust.

I will learn and love
Myself, by myself.

And if I have any friends left,
I will only touch them with a
ten foot pole….

Nuclear fusion, a poem

Laid out
on a rack,

Bound

Naked

They sexed
Me

I would not give in
So they sexed me some more.

Energies built,

Until I became the Sun….

My Achilles’ Heels, poem.

Achilles Heels:

I’m too easy to get in bed.

I’m a person out of place.
I was born here, but I have no
tribe here.

I lack
cultural wisdom
and I take everyone’s word
as truth.

I worry too much and
nothing gets done.

Is there anyone out there like me?
Where is my tribe?

Why am I alone?

There’s no such thing as truth? A poem.

The sky isn’t blue
in a purple haze.

Does god has a race
or color?

Not that I care,
I just want to know
if he gives go head.

If atheists believed there’re
right, why do they only
see
a white bearded guy?

Slavery now comes
in the wages or
brains on a string,
everyone has pasted
smiles
with bad glue.

Billionaires cries because
found the chests
empty
at the mountain tops.

I continue to wear rags.