This crisis
These jeans feel
So i let them sag
But now i waddle
And then I stumble
And now I’m

With the club promoter
With the lord of the land
At the words landlord
At the thought of injustice
At the REALITY that is ours
And hours I spend
And now my fist are sweaty
Because they’re held so

Are the bonds that bind us
We should hold our loved one(s)
Carefully to  that hope
To a better future
precluded by this dub of a wash
Twists & erratic turns today
But tomorrow’s fresh braids
map out zig zag paths
communities up on head
Tightly knit
resiliently weaved
Vibrant fatigues

An Umbrella through the Mist

An umbrella through the mist 
Is useless 
unless the handle is reinforced by aramids
or fibers weaved of carbon
Till then
The rain discolors our hairlines,
Sends promissory notes to our freckles
" one day we will return the color we stole" 
But for now
Acid hits
Silver jumpsuit, 
bust out the sturdy shades 😎 
of fibers weaved of carbon
Reinforced by an imaginative design
where burgeoning lands are dense
with death and disconnect
but our Bluto* arms and burro** ways
reassure hope has a sturdy back
on which to ride
We are together in this
Under the seemingly broken beak of this
water repellent thing 
Once fragile, now ferocious 
Reinforced by aramids 
Cutting through the bleak
Stopping the wet 
Useful in the mist 

Bluto:  A character from the Popeye cartoon series & movies
Burro(Esp.): Donkey
Paragua (Esp.): Umbrella

Not for Debate

Off the dome
steadily separating the ruckus discourse 
One hand also
Through the recessed cuff
Waving fingers of Sugar-mapled experience
that nullify the arguments
that you can't be touched;
That progress can't be reached
In our lifetimes
Words ringing through the stirring
Of a reverberating pinky 
but most certainly through the directness 
of mind
That is commonly known, 
Seldom accepted, woefully Feared  
But secretly admired
These Master plans
 and their benefits
Clearly enunciated
To let the living ,
 Live Longer;
 The mind 
 retain balance;
 And the sick,
 override the limits of ailment 
 All in exchange
 only for the sake
 Of respect
 That others may live
 In their own paradise
 That equity through sovereignty and amnesty 
 Be known and acknowledged
  For it is their right
 Without costing you
 A portion of occupied comfort
 With no need for a gram of worked land,
 nor a grain of sand leisured  

An Amethyst Aesthetic

Between the red and blue
Is it two on the nose?
On the branching path under beholden
Mood lit dance to persuade,
That dirt thrown in haste
The sediment
of mud-layered
Set outside 3 to 4 point 0 extremes 
the building blocks
of an amethyst aesthetic
Doing what you want with what you have
As long as the process is fun
The end result
what you want
The outcome
close to your hopes

Drinks Tainted with Finagled Intents

Windshield wipers exert their best
Holding out hope past the dusk,
Rigid steering holds course
 the wills wield the wheels grounding club
Rolling ambitions for the floor,
Where the choice be the bar at the roof
Topped by soft respite in the callous breeze
Carrying amber notes through the concrete roots
Reverberating Bass burgeon OOo000s
That vertically engulf & hula hoop
 the shimmering shoulders and vivacious hips
Tiki-taki swaying like island trees
Dance fevers pitch escalates
Sweat beads on fabrics
Fresh salt wicking away
Melanin illuminated
The temperature is simmering 
Over on the glass stove
A row of potent remedies
The handles elaborate
A hand Strone from the emptiness
Demanding attention
Between awaiting patrons
with a card and a smirk
Asserting on the amicable ambience
Ordering a drink for two,
One un-be-knowingly glassed,
for you
purveyor of the parched
The bar is wet
The potion slides to your grip
But was it water or slime on which it slid?
And do you have the first sip?
Wink, enjoy, groove to the payee’s insistent patronage
Question the abrupt thoughts of an empty stomach
Elbow pardon your way to the water closet (W.C.)
Hold your head,
Wonder if the last one
Was tainted with finagled intents?