Category: Audio Poem

Spinning

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An Audio Poem

1957.13.2 002
Head of a Negro Boy|Alice Pike Barney

I am not the heart beating in his chest
no sense of calm can make the storm
raging in him subside.
I say that I know his pain,
but truly, do I?

Am I walking the same path?
He has his hands raised above his
head permanently, a shell of a soul,
residing in a body beaten from the
very earth that struck it into being.

Dust upon dust,
dirt upon dirt.
He shows no form of mimicry — an exhausted
engine chugging towards an unknown
destination.

I am trying to learn about his
relentless past, how it hangs over him,
dangling like fresh meat.
He tells me that the damaging years
are far behind him and
I see truth glimmering in his eyes.

“We all have our demons, our battles.
You are fighting yours. I am fighting mine.
Are you willing to win because
I have no time for another loss.”
The way he holds his mouth,
terrified of uttering the truth,
makes me love him even more.

Makes me realize that
he has groundwork to lay and
the foundation of us may have
to be placed on hold.

The spinning web we have
weaved holds no sustenance.
Everything caught, must be
released.

Originally published in P.S. I Love You via Medium.

Steep (An Audio Poem)

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hot, decaffeinated tea…

Steep (An Audio Poem)

2 months coffee free, sober to
your antics, my eyes
open, the light is here.

no longer am I blind to your
cloak of disapproval.

bold and transparent, you are revealed.
I got out before you could
pen me in.
before my heart could break again
before I fell deeper than
the waves could carry me.

I won’t lie, there’s no need for it.
you still fill me up,
your scent, steeping in my skin–
the more I smell you,
the harder it is

to get clean.

Pressure An Audio Poem

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I believe that if we listen closely, we can hear God speaking. I find him mostly in the clouds. He hears what I have to say.

Pressure An Audio Poem

It is the pressing pulse
of a whisper that
knows no birth

the guise, cloaked in
nightlife, tucked in lies,
a play on little more than less
of what you had yesterday and
more than less of what you need
for tomorrow

your new adventure,
categorized in “Lifestyles”
only to be forgotten
next year

pressure–the underdog
and overweight extension
of a life you wish you
had, but know you
will never get

Tender (An Audio Poem)

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TreNubian
Eyes|Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Tender  An Audio Poem

I don’t know
more than words can say
of me.
I am simple.
I do not require much.

You disappear in the shadows
hiding from my eyes,
afraid of my smile.
I am trying to change,
trying to fit your mold.
But, I keep breaking.

It must be frustrating for an
artist to lose hold
of her masterpiece before
it can greet the world.
In a box, you keep my
fragrances stacked as memories
of better days
and I only seep out
when it’s safe to wander at night.

Cozy, cocooned, and carefully
placed at the crook
of your spine, my tongue
finds gold.
I strike it rich in you.
You, a well bursting
in my hands, the comfort
of your embrace after lingers
for hours.

You bite down on
a testament that no one
needs to hear, swallowing
confessions too broad in
description.
The tender pull of
my love lifts
you from your pedestal
of glory.

I am your rock of ages
crushing every wall
meant to keep me out.

Author’s Note: Eric Benet’s News For You was on repeat.

Mates, Soul… (An Audio Poem)

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amysheraldart
Courtesy of Amy Sherald


Mates, Soul… (An Audio Poem)

I could have been built
to last–a specimen of
honesty wispy in
airy ways,
yet, I floated back to
a place where my soul
melted into its flame.

It is said that a true
“soulmate is like a mirror,
reflecting back to you the
aspects within yourself.”
so why is it that
when I look at me,
I can no longer see
who I am,
who I was,

I can only see
you.

And in that moment of Me
seeing only You,
I know that the heart
has nothing to do
with reflection.
The soul designed
this birth centuries before
my knowing.

The soul delivered
without my consent.

I can only see 
you.

Fated in bloom,
wrapped into the soul of
another
that is mine
too.

I have been doing a bit of reading on soulmates and that’s what sparked this. Funny how learning about something that has been around for ages can get the brain working on an entirely different level–wanting, yearning to know more.

Blind Reality (An Audio Poem)

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lostloveart
Courtesy of Adrian Calin/Lost Love

Blind Reality (An Audio Poem)

as the dust gathers
in your eyes, you
flick it with the tip
of your finger,
pressing its grittiness onto
the bridge of your nose.

blinded by daybreak
a cause for concern
in the dank, deserted, and
dreaded domain of a
commoner’s heart, you
swim effortlessly,
milking the need.

once lost, now found–
a deluge of pain seeps in
reminding us that reality
is a dream and waits
patiently for its turn to
make an appearance.

and like magic
we abracadabra the honey-scented
calmness of a blazing breeze

drifting
drifting
drifting

like lost lovers do.