I have tumbleweeds stuck to my lips.
Do you taste them?
They scrape and scratch my skin with
every new name.
The temptation is towards silence
but the noise always seems to win.
I yearn to empty my days of everything but you.
I’ll be burnt but I accept the scars.
See, morning is nothing without a dream to chase,
but while the waste of a generation fades
and days wait only for the moonlight,
my world illuminates in the dark,
where death is a spark,
a spike to the heart,
when all is unsaid,
and the hunger is fed
I contemplate greed
and the silence becomes nothing but a reason to bleed.
The ink is a seed
and everything chases the sun.
– Chris Eyes
Let’s make memories we can treasure.
Make me sigh with pleasure.
Make my toes curl.
Make my heart soar.
Kiss me senseless.
I just want you to kiss me breathless.
the exorcist of my demons
the water that puts out the fire in my mind
the surgeon that stitches the shredded pieces of my soul back together
the angel on my shoulder that keeps the devil from ruining me irrevocably
A garden filled with lovely red roses, I chose a white rose
I started to stare at it meticulously before light of the day goes.
I wondered how it never felt alone, never felt unwanted, never felt left out
I plucked it and its thorns cut through my skin how words do when humans shout.
Braids like Justice,
eyes like Iesha.
home late from
a war-riddled day.
first on the queue.
wine & Nayyirah Waheed.
::. Rico Lowe Jr (@panafrico) Continue reading Braids like Iesha | Rico Lowe Jr.
Abstract art is for me a way to think outside the norm, to let go of expectations and to try and see things a little differently, even if only for a moment. Abstract art defies terms or classification, is outside of borders or -isms, it exists merely because it can and does and the meaning is ambiguous, much like life itself.
if you come knocking at my door
turn the knob and enter
this time I won’t answer
I’m tired of rushing to greet only to get disappointed.
I’m sorry for giving up right on your turn
it’s unfair of me to judge you
based on the actions of the ones before
or their lack thereof.
it’s ok to make yourself at home
get acquainted with the lonely rooms
pay attention to where the shadows form
I’m tired of providing only sun
and blooming when there’s no one to care for.
if after all this you decide to stay
if despite all this you still want to make home
my heart is yours to tame
my soul is yours to love.
one last word of advice, though
beware of full moons.
The tides get high
and I’d hate to drown you too.
Here’s to fragile egos
falling like games of Jenga.
Watch it crumble.
Watch it crumble.
not really humble
a paranoid psycho
afraid to start a conversation—
but I walk a tightrope
cruising on fumes
running out of hope
that’s the saddest shit I ever wrote.
Photo Cred: Hamza Abdulilah