riptide in her eyes

*for brownin*

we have had times
where it would seem as if
you’ve lost me
seeing me flail about in the undertow
life sometimes brings
looking as if i’m drowning
as you stand onshore
and i have learned to swim good
in these troubled waters
because seeing you there
means i’m closer
to joy and lasting peace
blanketed in the salt sea air

east 29th street, 7:20 p.m.

their eyes
cut comparisons and attempt
to make me bleed inwardly
as i stroll down the avenue
Black blight on a balmy day
interrupting their outdoor supper
no different than the ones
who hawk pleas for change
outside of the Buy Rite
i usually like to make them more nervous
by staring at them
like the zoo specimens
privilege and money has made them
along East 29th street


don’t want to sink
your spirit does not want to utter cries
in waves of despair and regret
over what was when you had it all
when your laughs matched
the lapping of waves
claim outwardly
that you are sinking
and you need no captain
to pass below the waves with you
just stay a fortnight
and be gone with the morning’s mist
but as your soul moans
when coldness and the brine
of nights alone without care
bob in front of your eyes
so far from a shore you need
will you admit
you need help mending your sails
before you painfully list?

quarter past three

quarter past three
is that edge of night
that knows dawn approaches
and still beckons you to stay awake
where demons come calling
with luggage you thought thrown away
and wants your company

this edge of night
waits like butterfly knives
breathing at the chance to draw something out
and sleep stands by
only until the first wound appears
to lend crimson and fatigue
to the morning’s gold and promise of new days