Posted in Poetry

Stop Choosing Profit Over People

Some choose violence, some are chosen by it. Victims shot down in their prime. Lives snuffed out by others rage. No coming back from a choice that wasn’t theirs. 

Some people can stand against it, fight. No matter how many walls against their back. Some fall with the first, second, or third blows. Not able to withstand the trauma. 
Some people say-but that isn’t me, I would never do that, act that way. Some people say thank God it wasn’t me…this time. All while looking at the world filled with people who aren’t, who would never, who didn’t… 

But look at how many do. And who suffers for it? Those that matter least to society’s base feeling of superiority over others. That ingrained beast you never taught different. That you taught the opposite. That you taught you were the one that mattered most. 

Women, children, people of color. Entitlement was never theirs. It’s yours when you turn a blind eye to the violence they and others face every day. When you make excuses. When you forget their deaths. Their suffering. Not because they are victims. But because they are people. 

And they are people that are gone. Because they were chosen by violence. Because they could not stand against it. Because it came for them. And it will never stop. Not until those that feel superior stand up and say I am not the only one who deserves to live without fear. 

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There were times I looked at him in wonder and times I looked at him and wondered.

I looked at him in wonder always for the man he was. So capable and beautiful. So smart and assured.

I looked at him and wondered what the future held. If our love would hold true. What he saw in me.

There were times I looked at him in wonder and times I looked at him and wondered.

I looked at him in wonder for the way he worked, took care of those he loved and strived for the life he wanted.

I looked at him and wondered where I fit sometimes. What my role would be and how I could support him.

I looked at him with all the love I knew to give and some I didn’t know I possessed. And I had little hope of surviving it intact, but knew I wouldn’t let him go unless he asked.

It didn’t really matter anymore the timing of it all. I knew I’d survive. I was a born fighter even though people forgot that. I’d survived worse. I’d survive this if it came to it. But I’d never be the same. And he’d always own a piece of my heart and I would never be the same regardless of the end.

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Sweet Remembrance

My feet sinking into the sand.

The water lapping at my toes

The fierce waves crashing against the rocks.

The sound of children’s laughter floats all around me.

The spray of the ocean on my face.

The taste of salt on my lips.

The cool breeze whips through my hair.

The magnificent sun is starting to hide and it seems that the sky is alight with every color imaginable.


Everyone is leaving, but I stay to watch.

And as I stand there alone.

I think back to a time long forgotten.

To a time when I was a carefree child and the worries of the world had not yet hit me.

As I remembered a smiled played about my lips.

And as I watched summers end,

I realized something.

That although my carefree childhood days are over…

Life itself has only just begun.

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Present Day

The past is always clear.

The present is in the moment.

The future is an adventure waiting to happen.


I remember the past,

But I live in the present day.

I anticipate the adventure that tomorrow brings.


I do not dwell on the past.

I have made the decision to live in the present moment.

I look forward to the future of tomorrow.


I live one day at a time.

I don’t look back at what has already come to pass.

I have always lived in the day of today.

But I dream of what is to come.

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You spoke and I sank…

Deep into your words, they filled me from the ground up and I blossomed


I fell into your voice…

As if it were the last sound I’d ever hear and I couldn’t bear the thought of such despair


I drowned…

When I looked upon your masculinity, you flooded into me without reason and I choked on your beauty


I lost…

Myself in you, in the words you spoke, in the things you said, in the ways you made me vulnerable


I found…

Myself in you, in the words you spoke, in the things you said, no one treasures me better


I long…

For you to be pressed against me, your mouth, your skin, your soul


I crave…

Your affections, your arms around me, your




I desire…

You in the simplest and wickedest of ways, pressed close and all around me, until there is no end or beginning 


I was swept…

Away into your heart, as you are in mine, no words can define what you make me feel


I choose….

You, today and all of my tomorrows, you are my conscious choice

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Beauty and the Soul

Beauty and the Soul

She was beauty itself, she wore her sexuality like a cloak of the finest silk that everyone wanted to touch.
She brushed against many, teasing, taunting in her loveliness but few would know the bliss of her embrace, her lips and hands on them.
Many tried to grasp at her, tried to tear at her being and essence, but all failed, for it was as I said.
Her sexuality was merely a cloak that hid the magnificence of her soul, a soul the world would never be fully ready for.
I had never witnessed someone like her, and I never would again. She burned like the brightest of fires, but was a gentle caress of the sweetest nature.
One day she will remove her cloak, still fully intact from the greedy hands and eyes around her and give herself to the one that always saw what it was.
One day, someone will finally be worthy of a queen…
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Caged from Within

I am trapped in a cage.

I can see my freedom,

I am free…aren’t I?



Why can’t I leave?

Why is the way blocked?

It’s as if a thin veil of steel,

Hinders my escape.


I can see the sun in the morning,

Feel its warmth upon me.

At night the moon burns bright,

And it soothes me…


And again I feel free,

But when I wake and I reach for suns warmth,

Again the veil is back,

No longer masked by the moons infinite beauty.


This time I fight,

I beat against the veil,

That appears as if it is air.

I rage against it!

But it is entrenched as if it blocks,

Blocks my very soul…from the freedom it craves.


I feel raw,

So exposed,

Vulnerable, as if I have been ripped open.

It fills me with terror.

Why must it always be this way?

Why must I bleed for my freedom?

Why, why must I reveal the most intimate parts of myself,

To escape this hell that pretends to be free.


I am broken,

I collapse to the ground, exhausted,

Exhausted, beyond any words that are known to me.

And then I feel it begin…

A cleansing fire burns throughout,

It is agony, as if all of my demons are there at once!

And at once, gone.

Laid to rest,



Years may have passed…


But when it is over,

I lift my head,

The warmth of the sun reaches out,

And it dries the tears on my face…

And that is when I know,

That the demons of my past,

The fear and pain they bred into my essence,

Are gone, and I am once again…

Free, allowed to fly from my cage,

Because I alone hold the key.


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In Motion

I look in the mirror and all I see, is who I am determined to become,

Not what I was yesterday,

Or even who I am today.

Only what I hope,


What I will be.

Some people think that you best serve yourself, by focusing on the present.

But I say that by looking at your future, and what it is you desire to become.

Are you not more driven to live in the present?

To live in the moments that will come to define your future,

For no matter what has been said, the past, in all its chaotic glory, affects the present.

In a much as the present affects the future.

The past.

The present.

The future.

They are all moments that define who we ate, they are the moments that shape our characters.

The only difference between these 3 pieces of time, is that I have the potential power to change,

Only one.


The future.

Whether that future be an hour from now,

A day,

A month,

A year,

Or an entire lifetime,

Is still yet unknown to me.

It is a heady, yet incredibly daunting thing to be aware of.

That the choices of yesterday,

The good and the bad,

And the choices of today,

That are already fading to a thing of the past.

Will come to decide my fate in life.


The future of my life is clouded,

And yet the greatest desires I hold are held within its hands.

In this manner,

The beauty of the future, lies in its greatest flaw.

The ability it has to remain unchanged.


I will never truly know the future, for once it is upon me,

Has it not already become a thing of the present, and then the past?

The future will always remain elusive and one step ahead of me.

Yet the same trait that it holds,

Is what drives me to attain it.

For each moment I live, I collect yet another piece of my future,

And become prepared for the next that is already in motion.

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Silent tears stream down a face, only to be caught by the ground

Upon which a person kneels. Unnoticed by all who see, but cannot truly see.


The pieces of a life are shattered on the ground; a person kneels amidst them, trying to collect them all.

Only to find that each time they pick a piece up another fills it place.


Silent tears stream down a face and softly hit the ground,

Upon which a person kneels; again they go unnoticed by all who hear,

But cannot truly hear.


A million pieces of a life, wait impatiently, in agonizing pain, to finally be picked up

And put back together again.

Each time a person passes by they start to hope, think, and maybe even pray that today will be the day.


That today will be the day that someone stops to help them collect the million pieces of their life,

Shattered on the ground.


Each time a person passes by, a little piece of hope inside them dies.

Each time they go unnoticed, they feel a little more unloved, a little less wanted and a little less worthy.


Unnoticed by all who see, but cannot truly see, by all who hear, but cannot truly hear.


Silent tears stream down a face and softly hit the ground.