The Lesser of 2

Sometimes the distance between

The evil and its lesser is so great

That more harm would come

From a decision of omission.

Life's Little Lessons

An accident can lead to injury.

An injury can lead to separation.

Separation can be painful.

It will make you reminisce of the good times-

How you took each other for granted.

The pain of separation will ebb

And lead to acceptance.

That will make way for healing.

In healing there is rebirth.

In rebirth there is strength.

Both of you are now stronger than you were before the pain.

The scar is a testament to your unity.


These are the lessons from the loss of a toenail.

(Life is always teaching us about ourselves and our connections to one another. We would grow wise if we take a moment to listen).

Fish

So much to write,
And still I grasp for words.

They slip through my hands 
Like fish in a pond.

A Soul to Bare

She wrote her lovely story down
In pretty words that shined,
And people clapped as well as I
For baring is divine.

And bare she did her soul to me
I promised not to chide.
Inspired by her endless toil
I wrote my soul upon a rhyme.

I scribbled a battered story down
In clumsy words on lines,
Enwrapped in somber silence now...
She did not clap for mine.

This World That We Live In

Images of villains pillaging villages/

Imminent apocalypse, capitalism killin it/

This world that I live in/

Time is limited/

Rhymes is infinite/

Mind is ridiculous/

My knowledge is intimate/

While theirs frivolous/

Folded like molded tissue/

I incorporate focus issues/

Pen with a fine tip/

Jedi with the mind tricks/

To sever your pleasure/

Kamakazis like the nebakanezer/

Plus I’m a feminist/

Met women who storm and control all the elements/

This world that I live in/

Destruction of Eve/

Corruption and greed/

Spreading the seed/

Ground is fertile/

Mos said it landed somewhere between Broadway and Myrtle/

I don’t embellish, we too selfish/

We too hellish, they say fuck it/

Kids starve to increase military budgets/

Don’t touch it, don’t change it/

Too few change agents/

We change faces like trading places/

We are now the slave masters/

But fuck it, we enjoy the fragrance/

I see your shackles and I’m trying to tell you/

They trying to sell you/

“You ain’t free, you well behaved/”

Don’t let them say/

Araminta could have freed you,

If you only knew
You were a slave/

Sunkiss

When you walk by 
The sun hides behind the moon,
Urging her to introduce him.

Your smile makes the sun blush.
He gets embarrassed 
So he tiptoes over the horizon,
Stealing one last stare 
Before setting.

You make boys 
Of great men.

We Be

We be early mornings still awake
Cafesito en el campo
Media noche que traga rio
Liberated dreams of enslaved people


We be deep
Inundated in consciousness
Joy in humility
We be subtle rebellions


1 on 1 off the clock
After school at the park
No where to go 
We be home.


-The Peace Poets 2012