Earth ectched upon skin ancient soles

“My body the earths ground to etch upon skin the breath of ancient soles.” 

I held hands with the winds 
the moon dared me to 
dance with all that is unknown,  

my body 

borrowed of earth 

foreign 

and 

nameless  

to stone,

my flesh 

of dirt 

natures barren canvas 

earth will sketch upon skin 

secrets to lost mysteries

breathing through 

ancient soles. 

Youth and age 

“We do nothing more then await one another.” 

You are my youth 
holding the stillness of my face, 

    I

your age 

graciously these lines await you. 

Can you see the lines of your face speak as I can hear, 

youth will wait a lifetime to experience age,  

age will wait for death to experience youth.

Youth will beg and borrow from time for one more line to settle upon the hand, 

age will beg and borrow from time for one less. 

Can’t believe we still have to protest about this sh**

**I hesitate to post this due to Americas current racial climate. The accusations of me being racist will come and I will hear “your white! You have no right to write or say this!” I refuse to take part in a make shift revolution that doesn’t involve all who are systematically oppressed despite color. There is a dangerous push going on in this country fueled by the elitist(black and white).**
“I am convinced America has a love affair with the oppressor and hates the oppressed.” 
“What they have and are doing to the black community at night, they are doing to the white community during the day, but none see the oppressions that be. Two forms for both colors.” 
Humanities of today mimicking the humanity of yesterday 

past and present have held hands 

oppressions 

racisms 

hatreds 

still exist in skin

breaths lost in hollowed woods

have found a home in new skin. 

I see within black men and women the mind of white ideologies of hatred and racisms,

within white men and women the black mind and ideologies of guilt and submission held accountable for a history they did not create but yet forced to carry the burdens.
There will be no revolution in America 

rather a reversal of roles,

stories will be left untold. 

The pushers of a greater agenda will never tell you 

stories 

of the white skinned people

who lead many slaves through the underground rail ways to safety,

fought to end slavery 

only of those “whites” that enslaved.

Why? 

questions buried on the shores of kings and queens, 

none of us know the true colors of the ruling classes, they could be you as much as they could be me.
I will take no part in a revolution that doesn’t involve all that are 

systematically 

oppressed. 

Just because my oppressions don’t look like yours doesn’t mean they are any less oppressive,

wages

taxes 

healthcare

conformity 

educations 

drugs 

submissions to a two fold Uncle Tom. 

So we will fight each other for power, 

vengeance, 

retribution 

holding each other accountable, never touching the system that created us and Americas current hyper, and polarized state of collectivisms. 

Words of love on empty pages 

“Not all love sounds the same yet all hearts break in the same noise.” 

Many write of love 

yet all the pages are empty,  

heartbreak 

yet all the music is without lyric

and here on the empty pages 

lyric-less music 

all sounds are the same.

Maybe this is because our understanding of love is only in part and that is why the heart breaks itself, 

the heart fully shattered can only understand the greatness of love,  

it is then that poetry will have found her 

difference of sound placed on 

lyrical 

pages 

finally ending loves mystery.