please forgive the oversight…

sorry for the oversight

right now
some
pseudo-intellectual
writing professor
is plagiarizing
your poems
word for word
to be used
in
his
upcoming book
which will assure
his tenure
don’t mind
that
he
doesn’t write
to
thank you
for
your contributions
to his
long-term
academic success
and
ascension
to the
faculty chair position
but
he’s busy
signing autographs
of
his
old book
just full
of
your words

conflict classroom…

conflict classroom

war
is to teach
the young
that they
should
keep their eyes down
focused on
blood soaked ground
a slave master’s lesson
where
youths
are taught
to assume
the submissive posture
a posture
that reflects
a level of control
where the soul is emptied
of all life
leaving
a hollow body
to be filled
with fear
and
terror
or
hate
that’s
what
war
teaches

by the numbers…

by the numbers

seeing
a slight altercation
down the block
near my
parked car
i headed
that way
but
was stopped
by
the brown bag prophet’s
booming baritone voice
saying
fool
have you
lost your mind
see
the man
in blue
he ain’t thinking ’bout
your car
all he’s gonna see
is a black man
headed
towards him fast
you do
understand
there’s
traffic-related deaths
alcohol-related deaths
and
when it comes
to blacks
police-related deaths

background music…

background music

there are
small voices
that go
unheard
songs lost
within the clutter
of our thoughts
our
routines movements
those
weighted steps
throughout the day
that mask
sweet melodies
so as
day ends
we bemoan
how
life
was wasted away
but we
did not choose
to hear
the music
of the soul