Sweet peas: A poem

Person sitting on a hill with flowers
Alexander Hong/Staff

Violet — I always thought it smelled like hope. Fuchsia — I always thought it tasted like rose hip tea. Pink — I always thought it felt like satin.   And all these colors intermingle Obscenely intertwining on the petals Of sweet peas twisting along the pavement Twining between my
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Shel Silverstein's Where the Sidewalk Ends with bulldozer pushing animals and plants off the edge

Where Civilization Ends: A poem

Disclaimer: The following poem is a parody of Shel Silverstein’s “Where the Sidewalk Ends.”   There is a place where civilization ends And the hills no longer roll, only streets that sting, And there the cement suffocates sweet wild And the sun seeks revenge with scorching revile And there is
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Silhouette of a person in a dress walking by a body of water during the sunset.

Moving Forward: A poem

We were raised in one home, We were whole within it     Together   It was ours We felt a sense of ownership, of constancy It was familiar, comforting, infinite   I never thought of leaving, Of saying goodbye To the memories To the pieces of me held inside  
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solstice: A haiku series

the sun and the moon: comrades of light, partners in temporary death.   the sun graces us, brings the hopeful morning and warms our skin and bones.   sunset — burns brighter, cotton candy, kerosene: day is laid to rest.   the moon protects us, keeps safe our whispered wishes,
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Notebook, pencil, and pencil sharpener

Dry spell: A poem

Write, rewrite, tap tap the shallow keys, scratch the paper, scratch out your last ten words, leave two. Is it still writing if you erase more than you put down? Wordsworth wrote “Tintern Abbey” in his head, changed not one of those 162 lines when he wrote it down —
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I Sea: A poem

Flow ocean — Wash away the shards of glass in my eyes And take with you the garnet currents gurgling out of my soul. So that I can finally find solace in slumber Without seeing his face looking back at me Me Me Who pushes past men and women dressed
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Garden bodies: A poem

I’m a redhead down there too. It’s coarse, curly and gleams golden and copper in the right light. Just the right length, overcrowded and protective. I thought it was beautiful until the world told me it wasn’t. So I brought an axe to the forest. No… more like the maple
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Plaid tablecloth with heart shapes

The Fabric of Love: A poem

The Cosmos woven together Fabric of strings unseen Binding force knits the in-between Love is the Fabric of Life Interspersed in most everything This quite fascinating thing A verb, seldom a noun — never stands still! By thought, deed and action Just present in everything Love showered by Nature Upon
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Black Girl Magic

I see it in my sister’s face, when she smiles with that quiet grace I see it when I’m with my friends, and their supply that never ends   I see it in a stranger’s stare, attempting to find out precisely where It’s like they’re trying to figure out the
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san andreas: A poem

Tonight is a beautiful night to open old wounds. Re-examine the scars that have long since healed — barely visible, but still there, old haunts. They permeate like fault lines, quiet and unassuming until they’re not. Until one wrong move, one shift of the tectonic plates deep inside you, shakes
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