carillon & hornswoggled without consent

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Two poems written on Substack notes

AI-Generated Image: A Black woman with braids sitting at a desk with a sad expression on her face.

carillon

her voice, to me, is
like a carillon, played
at the right moment
to dazzle my heart
and strengthen my
mind.

I miss our daily conversations,
our intent on
building, bonding, and brewing
through words.

a funk came and
she’s been under it,
in it, for over a month,
and now it feels like she won’t
get through it, and
my heart sobs for
the woman I once knew.

but I know how
important it is to
best our demons,
and there’s no timeline for this.
I’m here whenever,
if ever she
reappears.

AI-Generated Image: Birds singing while on the rooftop of an apartment building, just as the sun rises.

hornswoggled without consent

morning comes out of the blue, and I
feel like I’ve been hornswoggled into
daytime without consent.

the birds’ church has been open since
0430, and I have no clue who the
minister is, but I am now holding
them responsible for the ruckus the
choir is making. although in perfect
harmony, as always, I would have loved
fifteen more minutes of deep sleep.

but when nature lives right outside
your window, you’ll either call it peace
or chaos, and currently,
I’m on the fence. so, I’m naming it
peaceful chaos until further notice.

Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?

I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.

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