Festive Windows

Waterfalls and Hourglasses

In isolation,

time feels at rest,

like frozen waterfalls

and static hourglasses.

Under the veil of monotony,

we’ve become the oppressors

of our Freedom’s curfew;

in self-made prisons

slave to routines

and regimen.

In effort to remain

allegiant to world views,

we sacrifice our virtues

to build idols on touchscreens;

amour-propre erodes in sediment

In fact,

time is insufficient,

to pardon our passion

is like the raging of waterfalls

and the breaking of hourglasses.

Festive Windows

My hands lay firm on feverish glass.

I can taste my elation as it scatters along the aperture

impairing the mutual sight of windows

and the suitable lights of kinfolk.

Holiday is here,

another year revered.

Hearts cheer with festive cadence

cloaked in benevolent fragrance,

a timeless memento of festive crescendo.

Drifting Through Light Prisms

I

defy living.

My

mind is drifting 

through light prisms,  

and sinister skies 

that limit my eyes

to night vision. 

I see blighted souls

with righteous symptoms, 

Fighting for their life

in a bias system.  

They’re frightened by death,

victims of flesh;

however,  

dying isn’t as bad as not living .

Cherish the time that you have left; 

make the best of what god has given

Life.

Winter Embers

Embers fall upon my frigid skin.

My frigid skin; cold as Winter. 

This feeling is 

unfamiliar.

I’ve been numb for so long.

A nocturnal knight 

searching my whole life 

for modest light,  

Let it break the twilight sky 

in the early morn. 

Standing still on Earth’s axis, 

right my passage; 

the world is wrong. 

I can do what I want. 

The future, I own. 

Embers fall upon my frigid skin.

My frigid skin; cold as Winter.

This feeling is 

unfamiliar.

I’ve been numb for too long.

Drinking Emotions    

Empty bottles, 

no chasers follow, 

the room is spinning. 

Feeling hollow, 

it’s hard to swallow, 

we're all sinning.

No bravado

in modest tomorrows

with blurred vision.

Silence.

Get out. 

Cut the lights off,

I need a minute. 

As I battle with myself,

shadows can’t even witness.

Empty bottles, 

no chasers follow, 

the room is spinning.

Young, Black

Young black kid, head down, remain silent. 

Friends lie cold in the street. 

Hearts in constant riot. 

The mind told the heart, 

"Brother, don’t be defiant! 

You ain’t nothing but a cub,

better learn from the king lions! " 

In a world full of radical minds, 

killers and sinners divine. 

Courageous be the peace sign.

Deuce. 

Slave Be the Consumer

Slave be the consumers.

Producers chain us in jewelry. 

Money over life, 

the reason they ready to shoot at me. 

They tell me what I should be,

never what could I be. 

Battling with my heart,

lost the only part that was good in me. 

This isn't life.

This isn't right.

This is foolery. 

Me against the masses, 

born to fight the fight for the people; 

it's nothing new to me. 

I could care less about your complexion 

if we’re preaching the same message. 

We stay separate

only because we let it. 

Victims of ourselves, 

every culture is indebted

when love is a fetish 

bought on credit.

Damn.

Slave be the consumers, 

producers chain us in jewelry. 

Money over life, 

the reason they ...

Poetic Silhouettes

No conversations,

just contemplating

my disconnect.

My uncommon conscious constantly

leaves my flesh,

Searching the meta-physical, and 

trusting my visual less.

Faith is found between syllables,

blessed with every breath.

Eyes to the sky with no fear of death,

just taking steps,

Contradicted, no contest.

Opposition, I accept.

Searching for divinity in similes 

framed with poetic silhouettes,

stimulating aesthetic introspect.

Linear thoughts lay to rest.

I disconnect, 

then project.

Cause

and

effect.

No conversations,

just contemplating

my uncommon conscious

leaving my flesh. 

Hearts Over Minds