Untitled [What King Should Be Revered]

What king should be revered!

Patchwork grins on that park bench,

A dolman to his liking.

He, clad in tattered robes

Of indigo and deep purple and

Crown donned with shining thorns,

Is worshipped by clean cheeks,

And passersby send

gifts of averted eyes.

Forgotten Black Woman

Chrysanthemum stitched dress

Warm color contrasting cool skin

Blue-black and swishing, she rocks,

Swinging arms.

Ardent tremors take over

That soft body. Dirt boulevard

Uninvitedly kisses her cheek.

Shackled and steeled, face

Printed and plowed; pedal

After pedal passed by her eye and

Salted water met that street.

Untitled [Blue hued dew comes through when I seek you]

Blue hued dew comes through when I seek you,
And shine a ring of thorns upon your crown.
Stumbling quietly into your lair,
I bring the Ancient with an accidental purpose
To meet an indifferent eye.