#AmericanWriters
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running
There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win
The night has been long, The wound has been deep, The pit has been dark, And the walls have been steep. Under a dead blue sky on a distant…
When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the stre… Young men sharp as mustard. See them. Men are always
Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a
We wear the mask that grins and li… It shades our cheeks and hides our… This debt we pay to human guile With torn and bleeding hearts… We smile and mouth the myriad subt…
Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you?
Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.
Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water
Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.
Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Mark the mastodon. The dinosaur, who left dry tokens Of their sojourn here
They went home and told their wive… that never once in all their lives… had they known a girl like me, But... They went home. They said my house was licking cle…