At the edge of madness you howl diamonds and pearls.
Your pain is a school unto itself–– and your joy a lovely temple.
A poet is a verb that blossoms light in gardens of dawn, or sometimes midnight.
History dressed up in the glow of love’s kiss turned grief into beauty.
In a world gushing blood day and night, you never stop mopping up pain.
We can cry for years but sometimes gotta smile too.
Where humanitysowed faith, hope, and unity, joy’s garden blossomed.
The issue, perhaps, boils down to one of how perceptions or misperceptions of racial difference impact various individuals’, or groups of individuals’, experience of freedom in America. Some would argue that it goes beyond hampering...
Love, Mercy, and Grace, sisters all, attend your wounds of silence and hope.
Even when muddy your wings sparkle bright wonders that heal broken worlds.
You are the hybrids of golden worlds and ages splendidly conceived.
Within the universe of the extraordinary, those qualities we designate to human concepts of gender are often shared, exchanged, or even completely obliterated. Because of this mixture of traits, these twins called Genius and Madness...
On either side of a potentially violent conflict, an opportunity exists to exercise compassion and diminish fear based on recognition of each other’s humanity. Without such recognition, fear fueled by uninformed assumptions, cultural prejudice, desperation...
What a lover’s heart knows let no man’s brain dispute.
Death wins nothing here,gnawing wings that amputate––then spread, lift up, fly.
Human beings, in a sense, may be thought of as multidimensional creatures composed of such poetic considerations as the individual need for self-realization, subdued passions for overwhelming beauty, and a hunger for meaning beyond the...
Dreams dress us carefully in the colors of power and faith.