It’s in here somewhere, shaking, out of sight—
this gratitude I keep alive for me
that’s terrified by recognition’s light.

See!

It cowers, there. Don’t get too close; it bites,
a mangy mix of actuality
surviving off mere scraps of sacrifice,
resilience, sense, and stale tenacity.

My family gets first dibs on hearty foods.

I feed their inner praise with love-steeped roe,
exotic sprigs of righteousness in bloom,
and loaves of patience-risen sourdough,
ensuring that aplomb is absolute—
oh, look! My gratitude is nearly grown.

In the hall of college, where Arms strong rested across the chairs,
Students, done with classes came to see a show with time to spare,
“Testing, Testing. Y’all know what time it is. It’s Open Mic Night!”
I was just grabbing a burger and a friend met me mid-bite.

“Last call, last call! Is there another performer?”
“Hey, don’t you write? I saw poems in your class drawer.”
I winced and said “Yeah, but I don’t know for today-”
“Hey, he wants to go! He’s the Langston Hughes of today!”

I glared at my friend, but I took my notes and read,
Emotions flared, the students froze with their phones left unread,
At the end of the words, the hall rose and cheered,
To the friend that made this night possible?…. I still glared.
This kickstarted me to write poetry,
Oh, what a new world that’s opened up for me!

I stood on the corner with others in the cold
I grabbed what I could to feed the hungry & the old

They had nothing in their hands but dust & sores
Their shoes tattered and clothes with holes

“Do you have more? I need more they said”
Laying on the floor without a bed

“This is all I have, I’m so sorry.
I’ll do my best to come back in a hurry”

“Thank you, mam,” they all said.

“What do you need?” I said
“Socks and warm food, I’m cold.”

Down the street someone asleep as others walk over them
Sunburned, dried hair, and nothing to cover

Their cracked skin, no shelter, no water

I shed a well of tears that woke the earth
And shortly after I gave birth

To a drive inside to fight harder & to never hide
The power of my ferocious voice

My will of fire became unmatched
As I unleashed my skill & removed my mask

Beneath, a face of many
Two feet on the ground standing steady

I knew what I had to do
To turn the skies from grey to blue

I refused to let the fear make me believe
That there was no one like you and me

Who also cared about the world
And all the life that lived inside her

With debt on my back
I turned to others to help me lay a new track

A new path to justice
As we march ahead to help the many

Unafraid of what would come next
But we knew, we would stand together at our best

In a sober group on Facebook-
My friend Lynn had to say,
From a good report God gave…
“The Lord closed your last chapter,
He knew you deserved a better life.
Things happen for a good reason,
Never look back at that chapter,
It’s closed and should always remain closed.
Keep moving forward.
Your future will be fantastic!!!
God Bless”
Again this makes me cry inside,
Knowing people cared,
When all’s I did was hide.
But she’s right and I believe in her-
Words of wisdom for sure do merge…
My direction too where I’m going,
So much love from and for others-
God is surely showing!
My past is gone and the door is closed,
And thanks to her I’ll open it no more!
Creative excitement doing the right thing..
And the only indictment is to live great dreams!
Of course the good Lord is making life better-
For He cut the cords of my chains and feathers!
God gave so much in Bible, Church, and Prayer-
And His great recovery with you I will share!
A wife, a family, and a living society
God had all along, because He always loved me!
Jesus is the door of life and faith He gave is key!
For life is so beautiful, and almost too good to believe!
Therapy even to the young child within,
This mortal body who thought he’d never win!
But He’s made me a winner, and He’s made me free…
Breakfast at his table, lunch, and dinner He feeds!
He lets me go about and do good works…
Sharing with others that have doubt because of pain and hurt!
I get to go to jail and walk right back out,
Telling them of the God who cannot fail, so they can find His route!
I get to go to juvenile and teach them teens how-
To live this life before death bites, and they can see no way around!
Around the Bends that life throws at them-
They can walk straight through- on the path that mends…
Mercy and Truth leading all the straight way,
By God and for you-to see the light of day!
The same Light that guides, leading freedom-forgiving hearts…
To walk right alongside of great living and new starts!!!
… Friends and brethren, mothers, and fathers-and yes of course sisters too…
Go with the light of the right examples…
That God has shown them the way through!
And Yes, God- is Always with you!!!

It’s not your fault, in anger, that she screamed
whenever boredom tempted, “screw the rules”
but break the cycle— count to ten and breathe.

Her parenting just followed grandma’s lead,
a single mom with seven in her brood.
It’s not your fault, in anger, that they screamed.

For years, repressed emotions build up steam
and beg release with adolescent moods,
but break the cycle— count to ten and breathe.

You raise a family, childhood unhealed,
without the aid of healthy guidance tools;
it’s not your fault, in anger, that you screamed.

Time tempers; quenched with knowledge, habits yield,
are tested through your grandson’s ones and twos;
you’ll break the cycle— count to ten and breathe.

On days so pure they dim your brightest dreams,
recall the short-fused tension of your youth—
it’s not your fault, in anger, that she screamed;
you broke the cycle so this boy can breathe.

The pandemic hit
I quit
All went south
Forever broken, I frown
Should have believed her
Setting the features

Your what drove her
I thought it was over
I gave up on trying
Day after day I lie here dying
This is my life
Just give me the knife
Trapped in a loup
Someone remove this Damn Hula Hoop

We move and move and moved again
Oh God, please tell me when
Strapped
I find myself trapped
Her world stolen
Lifeless in motion
Ripped from the streets
I will not be beat

I run and hide
This is no fun, she cried
Locked up
Corrupt
Confined
Is this what you had in mind
Stories over, the end
My life, where I shall spend

Never getting out
My veins a drought
Sweet and naive
Kidnapped, I believe
What right do you have
Attacked
Soon you will feel the impact

This insane world
Flipped and swirled
Pinned down
Should have never moved to this Godforsaken Town

Mother
I will not suffer
I will not die here with you
I know the truth
Forgotten
We shall not be in here rotting
Left behind
This is not what I designed
Unfound
I will rise from underground
Not a sound
Silence
My guidance
A protector
I Am Now the Director

I will scream and shout
Whale my hands and feet about
Bring the world down with me
Open your eyes you shall see
For you will pay too
Your time is due
I will show you well
Oh boy am I gonna tell

Who knew
The me that was me
I will forever be
This clock has awakened
Tick Tock Taken
My innocence
I am Magnificent
I will not bow
This is not allowed
My future scene
For I am Queen

Dear Unsealed,
As a young child I was diagnosed with what they called a “lazy eye.” I was only three or 4 or 5. Those toddler Esotropia runs in families and usually requires surgery to correct. Acquired esotropia occurs in children usually between the ages of 2 and 5. Eyeglasses can usually correct it. seem to conjugate into one perimeter of I was too young to begin wearing glasses.
My mom had surgery on her eye, not mine. I found out later in life when my mom was alive. She explained to me that she could not deal with it, so she had surgery instead of me. I was deeply hurt as I was young and dealing with bullying not her as a grown woman. I loved my mom and always will but that hurt deeply. I learned to forgive her and move on without anger and buy more frames to accompany my wardrobe.
I told my mom I could not see well and was embarrassed about my left eye because the kids were making fun of my disability. My mom was incredibly sad as she had the same eye ailment. We can see but need glasses.
At three, four, and five I was a gregarious spontaneous combustion running around the house, playing with my Kachina dolls, my baby dolls, my mudpies and least of all of these was pretending that the toads were my friends. I was an adventurous child of sorts, and my glasses were in the way, but what was really in the way was I could not see well without my glasses. So, my glasses became a part of my wardrobe, and I had to learn to fit my glasses into my daily routine of trees, toads, and Kachina dolls.
The truth is that the significance of learning to respect and wear my glasses taught me survival and how cruel young toddlers can be. My favorite little boy on the block in our 1950s neighborhood was accepting of my disability. Back in those days people who wore glasses were called four eyes. That is a debilitating bigotry condition of certain types of personalities of certain human beings. I learned to go with the flow. My grandpa Boss was with me teaching me to read and write and music.
Those days are gone now.
I remember a little girl who was so sweet.
I remember a little girl who was so neat.
I remember a little girl who was me,
To be
Grown one day,
Along the way
As I was now a 21-year-old young lady growing up in the crazy seventies entering college after nursing school at age 19. I had a pair of frames to match every outfit in my closet.
Later I began to wear contacts mixing it up with different frames and lots of sunshades.
Now at 75, I am wearing contacts again mixing them up with different frames and reading glasses and computer glasses.
Old habits are a positive virtue in the case of a young toddler beginning to wear glasses to see carrying on to an elder age.
I now look back.
React,
To my younger self of creative play.
Today
I still suffer from lazy left eye syndrome, strabismus, astigmatism, and far-sightedness but hey folks I am human, and we are all with disabilities of some kind. We are human.
As an artist, writer, lyricist and elder I thank the Universe for supplying me with perseverance, longevity, patience, and intellectual capabilities that have helped me continue walk my life path.
To someone else reading this who might say it is no big deal, it is a big deal to a toddler and to humanity that has given humans the ability and ambition to overcome obstacles as they walk their path in their life.
My glasses and contacts are woven together into a web of sight and creativity overcoming the obstacles of a toddler in the 1950s era of bigotry and judgmental style cultures of America at that time.
The learning concave ability of learning to live with strabismus or “crossed eyes”. I had one crossed eye, and I grew up overcoming my disability by wearing many different frames. However, the stigma of bullying that was present in those days has left a scar inside my intellect that I still have to work through with my therapist.
However, I am over the four eyes syndrome bullying. I love my glasses and can shop online and offline looking at cool frames to offset my wardrobe.

So I’m a veteran now..
Help me open this
C & P exam notification.
Look at that,
a winner has been selected
for my mental health’s raffle.
Combat activity report card reads as follows:
2 deployments for me
&
93% on the subject of
American history.

I felt the ghosts
of our heroes
let their tears fall
over my shoulder,
because the heaviest pen in
the planet struggled to check the box that was applicable to me.

I’ve been feeling decently
until recently,
when I was notified,
that everything
that I try to hide
in the tombs of my psyche,
will be –
resurrected,
dissected,
&
placed under
a microscope.
Picture my ptsd..
As a protozoa in a petri dish,
just small enough that I will never
feel whole (fill hole)
unless I open up,
I will never heal my soul…

Or maybe a telescope,

for everytime I’ve
spaced
out.

There’s a dissonance
in the distance that
slightly resembles the terror that
holds my happiness hostage.
“Incoming,”
Incoming,
Incoming!

any alarm
& this action movie
shapeshifts
into the horror genre,

Michael Bay
transforms into
Stephen King.

“It” is
“The Pet Semetery”
Where
“Cujo”
Is buried,
alarms also make me feel like
Jon Coffee walking
“The Green Mile.”

The Doha Accord was signed on
29 Feb, 2020.

Despite this alleged “armistice,”
the mirage in the dark was the target of many armaments..

12 bombs…I think?

like scalping your enemy,
i’ve tried to sever
that memory from my head,
but try as I might,
it hangs on by a thread,
how could I ever forget
the bomb that knocked me out of my bed?

& the subsequent phone call
to my parents..
telling them how
f*cking scared I was.

Oh, the heartbreak harbored in their eyes,
for only a handful of times,
have they seen their son cry,
but anytime I heard
Incoming, incoming, incoming..
It was at least possible
I might die.

I genuflect to inspect
These 17 coins I have earned,
Jaded-
I helped pack the grave dirt of far to many urns.
The petri begins denting from the inside.

Still Sealed by the gravity
That re-wrote history:
the fat man who crashed
bockscar in
Nagasaki.

Or
the little boy birthed
from enola gay
in Hiroshima.

“Do alarms really bother you?”
“Yes, it’s my heart beat playing hide and seek,”
“Is it getting any better?”
“Not really,
Every time I try & get some sleep
I hear the floorboards creak,”
“Isn’t it just another noise?”

“No.

It’s every thought I’ve ever had against my life,
The Grim Reaper’s sychte felt so cold upon my cheek…”

Im thankful for all of the help
that I have seeked,
for the last 4.5 years
I have my good days &
bad days,
& I’m hopeful that
one day,
it will be
Just Another Noise.
But until then,
I hope you see everyone is different after they’ve deployed.

Life has a funny way of showing you
That everything your family told you growing up
Is mostly true
Our stubbornness
Our hesitation
Our lack of paying attention
Often has us wondering
Once we get older
That the words we once heard
Now echo
As they become clearer
“You can’t please everybody”
Even when I try
I often only end up hurting myself
As a people pleaser
You fail at balancing
The very moment you don’t say yes
You are painted as such a bad person
No is definitely a part of the dictionary
But when you are so used to not saying it
It crushes someone’s spirit
Yet it feels so good
I am free to say no and not feel guilty
Not feel ashamed
Not feel the need to explain
It took a long time to get here
I’m not looking back
I deserve to own my decisions
I choose to not live with regret
I have self respect
How can I please everyone without suffering?
Simple
I can’t
I choose me
And if you can’t understand that
You are not meant to be in my life
Sorry if this offends anyone
But I’m taking my power back
I choose me first
And pleasing everyone is no longer my concern!

I breathe in anxiety.
I breathe out peace.
I hide from society.
I have no release.
My feet halts in its tracks
Because confidence I lack.
My belief system is faulty,
I don’t belong in this party.
I open my voice to speak,
But suddenly my words become meek.
They lodge in my throat;
This pain that I tote;
My voice is gone
And I can’t go on.
My non-belief inflicts pain,
And my anxiety drives me insane.
I breathe in doubt.
I breathe out peace.
I scream and shout.
I have no release.
Succeeding is my desire
Writing is my fire.
Though sometimes I get stuck
Because I feel like no one gives a f**k.
It’s hard to believe in me,
When nonchalance is all I see.
“Why you wanna do that?”
They say as we chat.
No uplifting words for me;
Then wants my money for free.
Their words is invading,
Scared my goals will begin fading.
I am held hostage in my mind
And it’s all because of my family line.
So on bended knee I pray,
To believe in myself today.
As I weep and I sit
A voice says Just Do It.

If beautiful was printed from a negative it would be the silhouette of a rose
Because roses are sculpted from the hands of immorality
Breathed from the marble no one saw as a flower
Every petal flaunts the gorgeous of galaxies
Positively Divine
The eyes of roses are ocean deep and sky blue
They see life the way we’re supposed to live
Balanced in duality, Life and Death
A marriage with as many anniversaries as time
The two need to become one so fear may bloom into confidence
A rose might be one of the few things to achieve perfection on earth the way its attraction reflects the heavens
The way it’s smile ages like the innocence of a child until its aroma becomes the wine from 35′
The way it freezes death into a Picasso Dali Esque piece of painted poetry
A rose understands the heartbeat of death and the silence of life in humility
That’s why they are used during and after life
Have you ever seen such grace command hell ?
Roses make the marble soft, the concrete cry, and anxiety strong
And that is why I say, “you remind me of a rose, an absolute rose.” (Daisy Buchanan)
You are and can be everything you want to achieve
p.s. it’s never too late to sculpt your rose…

This quote from The Great Gatsby has inspired me since my high school years. As a passionate admirer of flowers, particularly roses, I aspire to embody the metaphor of sculpting my rose from concrete. Life presents various challenges, and I have faced significant mental health hurdles along the way. However, this quote serves as a powerful reminder to embrace the strength that can emerge from pain and success. I am committed to personal growth and believe in my capacity to improve each day. That is what I wish to communicate in this poem and inspire others on their own journey.