I am the winner of the poetry priz… I am special in your eyes, Looking up to me you see, Potential & a place in history, Winner of the prize...
I love to wear pretty pink panties, Under my dress, The fact that I’m a man underneat… Could be anyone’s guess;
The only relationship We need to be of concern, Is the one we have with God, The others are reflections, Chances to learn,
New poets struggle with the weight Of the world, New poets feel invisable, They curl up in a ball & feel like giving up all;
He came, He left, Again & again, He operated by stealth, He did not call me by name
What is the latest news? What is the weather? What’s new in the world Does knowing it make me Better for having the knowledge
Seek God the Lord Not from without But from within, The Temple Holy of Holies Resides in you,
Why is blood the color red? Is it because our Creator wants Us to notice it when shed? Like taking in a blood-red sunset, Or when we are alarmed
Our sickness, illness disease Our stumbling blocks, Our unrest, Is God’s method His test Our souls are both
“Willie’s in the corner!” My mother lets me know, Willie wants to get out, Or so he thinks so, “Willie don’t bite the curtains”
I live to weave my thoughts Into words, My word into phrases, My phrases jump to life On paper;
True communicate is not Attained with the body, But with the mind, The body can be wanting affection, Wanting intersection...
Hopeless? Ship wreck? Destitute? Mutiny Or land in sight? I must assault the senses I will…
Seek God among the ditch-diggers, The shoe-shiners the porters & the fishers of the sea, Seek God with your heart, Not your eyes of Pomposity,
We are born Not for ourselves But for each other, Brother for sister, Daughter for father,