Category Archives: Poetry: Tears Of A Poet

A King Amongst Men

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It does not take a crown, a throne or a bloodline of royalty to become a king; it takes the heart of a man and the sweat of a warrior. A man does not become a man until he unlocks himself from the grasps of fear and rise above the barb wired barricades of challenge. […]

Mama Said There Would Be Days Like These

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Blues-670

  Somethin’  was a knockin’ at the door this morn’ I said somethin’ sad was a knockin’ at the door this morn’ and I didn’t want to get up to see what was a knockin’ at that door because I was feelin’ kinda down you see; yes I was feelin’ down and dreary and I […]

Sunset Road

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Road_Trip_by_Dynnnad

A poet’s mind never sleeps; you can hear it crying through tears when the soul weeps and even inside the journey of a dream it lays awake, roaming off into fields of imagination where summer leaps. Sometimes, often…as I look off into the sunset, I find myself asleep with open eyes standing off to the […]

Portrait Of A Poet

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I once stood unknowing, unaffected, untouched and uninspired by their brilliance:  words sprinkled on a canvas abstract in their meaning and obsolete in their influence.   I had no connection to their worth as they were strangers to my intelligence. To be honest, I found them quiet boring and to me they were just whoring […]

DOB

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black-boy-street-art-Copy

The Thirty-Ninth Song             Written April 27, 2015   Time only pauses but for one day and it is during this stillness of life that I take the time to find my own reflection  through the shadows of yesterday,  It is during this hesitance that I log my thoughts into the journals of tomorrow.   […]

I Heard The Blues In Her Eyes

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I-heard-the-blues-in-her-eyes

Her tears only dripped when my eyes closed. I pretended not to hear them but I listened, I listened to the clutch of her heart whisper an apology asking for the forgiveness/of my hunger. I wasn’t mad at mama, she was younger; younger than most mother’s. Twenty-one years of age standing in welfare lines reaching […]

One Of Many

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man-in-crowd-Raymond-Zrike

I am just one of many experiments who stand alone in rehearsed crowds lost in a maze of widowed daydreams trying to find tomorrow with transient eyes shut to the reality of yesterday. It is when I open my mind that I – not only see – but recognize that I am just one of […]

Yesterday’s Past

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yesterdays-Past

Sometimes you can forget where you came from, but that somewhere will never forget you. Memories triggered by glimpses of familiar faces. Smiles I once knew and eyes I once recognized repainted a portrait of childhood over twenty years aged, but never faded on the canvas of yesterday’s past. They were reminders of who I […]

The Daily Acts Of Living

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manhattan-bridge-tower-in-brooklyn-framed-through-nearby-buildings

There are times I stand in the traffic of life naked with nothing on but the clothing of my own mind. I watch faces that barely breathe and eyes that deceive those who hope, dream and believe that our streets can exist without the propaganda of intellectual thieves; I watch strangers become categories; nameless figures […]

Fourteen

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writing

Fourteen A moment of greatness is when one recognizes his own identity.  I was just a young boy, barely fourteen years of age staring down at a blank piece of yellow lined paper with a pencil twirling in my right hand. There were so many things to write but my mind couldn’t find the voice […]