Blue Dreams

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Colors of blue variations enter into intimate spaces.
Dark blue flows through, leaving light blue traces.
Ultramarine blue lips on a goddess, leaves the mark of a celestial kiss.
Chelsea blue, covering New York City in the warmth of spring is almost ethereal;
Midnight blue, contrasting against an ivory backdrop is beautiful.
Majorelle blue silk, brushing against soft cream colored quilts is next to sensual.
A blue sapphire shinning in its clarity is a wondrous thing of mystery;
On a golden throne, indigo stands alone, but together with ivory
It is an empyrean beauty for the eyes to see.
Navy blue and cream, should never go unseen.
Egyptian blue, approached me subtly
With white chocolate dipped strawberries
And kissed me in an erotic dream.

The Gathering (Part 2)

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You who suffer, you who are misunderstood,
and you who were unloved since childhood—
gather your hearts together, for there is comfort in unity, and a shelter.
Cry no more, for the abandonment of your fathers
or for the death of your beautiful mothers,
but let the soul that is within you,
strengthen you and strengthen others.
Raise your swords ye valiant men and women,
and with your battle cry, cut through the darkness;
spare nothing, and do not be merciful,
lest the darkness recovers in the void
and comes back to attack you in your slumber.
All ye mighty generals, that conquered and died in battle
lend us your resolute hearts,
that we may raise our banners of war in silent march.
We will carry on, even in the bitter cold of winter,
until the darkness is slayed and our swords rest upon its cursed grave—
but if there is nothing left of us, ye who come after us,
with our swords and armor bury us—
but do not weep for us when our bones return to dust.
Gather up your own hearts, sharpen your swords,
and let not there be frailty in the arms that wield the bow
or in the resonance of your words.
Before warfare, test the worthiness of your armor,
and in battle, strike your enemy with violent anger,
searing even the sinew, to strike down the darkness
that would steal your happiness
and snatch the light that is within you.

Passionate Movements

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We dance intimately in a grand ballroom, just you and I;
you kiss me, and I am yours completely.
You stun in a formal white dress, chandelier earrings, and a diamond necklace.
Strappy heels add to your appeal, and I am immersed in your rapture;
I spin you around as we dance if beautiful synchrony.
Tonight, whisper your heart’s sincerity — and capture the depths of me.
Reveal secrets to me, and know in your heart that you can trust my confidentiality.
Again, kiss me deeply, and know that I love you with everything that I have in me.
As we dance slowly, let me be lost in the comfort of your femininity.
Seductive utterances are not enough; hold onto the essence of my being,
and know that I could never live without you.
Another spin, and from behind is how I hold you—
With loving arms around you, we rock from side to side in sweet caress.
You place your hands on top of mine, and what I feel…
What I feel in this very moment, I can’t describe.
Right here and right now, I dance with a goddess in my eyes;
You tilt your head back, and your hair becomes a gloriously flowing waterfall;
I love you; you move me deeply — without saying anything at all.




Diary of the Dead

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Witness the depths of his agony; hear his weeping.
See him immersed in the throes of his suffering.
Feel the warmth, that he so desperately wished could comfort him.
Touch the tears that fell on his torn adornments.
Write down the utterances that he conveyed in listless moments.
See the illegibility of his handwriting in his last moments,
because he hadn’t slept in days — and was so tired.
Hear him speak of his plight, and how hard he had tried.
Take notice of the dark curtains in the cold room he cried.
Read the torment of the unfinished notes he wrote —
strewn on the bed where he lied.
Witness the gradual stillness of his body
and the stark motionlessness of his eyes.
Hear the piercing screams later that night,
and the constant whispers of why.
See the favorite picture he left on the dresser, of happier times.
Feel the cold raindrops, as he is carried outside.
Speak to the ones who really loved him,
and hear the echoing of his pain in their cries.
See the black veils, and feel the chill of the winds that wail
at the place where he lies.


Reckoning of Terror

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I stumble,
the cross I carry falls away from me;
the weight of its heaviness cracking the foundation.
In agony my breaths are labored.
Eyes that gaze see beauty and devastation.
Duality tears me asunder;
I am filled with love, but a timid boy no longer;
to survive, I confront the terror
with a merciless heart, and weapons of war and armor.
Many battles have hardened my once soft exterior
and have made me stronger.
I weep no more because of the abandonment of my father,
and in my weariness, I remember the love of my mother.
I lean on my mighty sword to steady myself when the blood runs
and strike the terror again with fearless rage and precision.
One day the terror came and deeply wounded the boy with the bright smile,
so the terror must face its reckoning from the rage of a broken child.
He is not merciful, nor will he hear the terror when it cries;
He will continue to strike with fury, even after the terror dies.
He will slay the terror — and the terror’s lies,
to revive the soul of the boy that once brightly smiled.




Beautiful Release

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For so long I held on,
my tightened grip—
a surety that I would not slip.
You came and held onto me as I wept,
and talked to me with love,
through gentle breaths.
To convince me to release,
you guided me step by step;
in my apprehension
I feared my descension,
but you promised to be my protection.
The torment of my soul
was my vulnerability,
still, I closed my eyes and let go;
you caught me,
and I finally breathed deeply.
In my descent into your loving arms, I fell freely.
In my release, you became my peace.
I kept falling—
and love is what I fell in.

See Her

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She is a goddess, once broken.
Celestial stars crown her in twilight;
The fire of her passion illuminates the naked night.
Through the vehemence of her eyes, see her.
The delicateness of her is unchanged;
Though strong winds blow against her,
Her scepter and crown remain.


Ethereal Beauty

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Standing in front of the mirror,
for a long time, she stared at herself
and began to remove the facade—
slowly peeling off all of the layers;
at the foundation she made a breathtaking revelation
as she wept, beholding a being
that was a divine creation,
exuding magnificence and
angelic light with every breath.


They Whisper Our Names

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If we should fall, tell the world of our exploits,
the pain in our hearts, and how for so long we survived the dark nights.
Tell them of what we’ve endured here,
the tears, the weeping, for so many years.
Tell them that we’ve loved and have been loved,
but by the third season our hearts were shattered
and the remnants of our loving hearts, scattered.
Tell them of the injustice we have endured here, and of our martyrs.
Tell them of the blood that runs every summer
and the crying voices that hope to conquer;
Tell them of the beauty of our mothers
and the quiet strength of our fathers.
Tell them that we weep and suffer,
but somehow we still survive the coldest winters.
Tell them that twelve judge us with prejudice,
and the color of our skin condemns us.
Tell them of apathetic eyes that watch us with hatred and bias
and the system set up to destroy us.
Tell them of our ancestors who came over on ships
to be enslaved for generations—
In tears, raped, separated and whipped.
Tell them that, at our breaking point we didn’t give a shit,
and we were not afraid of death in our final moments.
Tell them that their bullshit sentiments are meaningless
and they walk around as empty husks, soulless.
Tell them that we gave it everything we had,
and faced our fates with tears of resolve—and boldness.