When A Girl Is Pretty.

img-20180519-wa0000202107031.jpgWhen a girl is pretty and she knows

you’ll know it that she knows.

It’s in her feet
the way she carries her feet
as if they’re made of rare porcelain.

It’s in her eyes
that aware look in her eyes
sultry, beckoning, yet saying
‘stand at bay’.

It’s in her neck
the slight upward tilt of her neck
accompanied by that pout
delicately embossed
into a glossy corner of her lips.

It’s in her fingers
soft fingers no more counting
how much she hears it daily.

So they pat slowly through her hair
as she sashays down the street
pretending not to notice
the whole street is watching.

But we know, we really know
nobody walks like that
except they also know
the whole street is watching.

a. s


The Moon and the Sea

If there is something that the sea,
Has taught to me,
It is the fact
That one can be loved from a distance,
Just as the sea loves the moon,
And shows off for her just as soon
As she peaks her silver head,
Over the mountain stead,
Though she is millions of miles away,
His love for her never falters or sways,
He simply reaches for her with his waves,
Faithfully following her trails.

And just as the sea can love the moon,
Who is so far away,
I, too, can love you,
Just the same,
Because although I can’t love you,
The way I want to,
Loving you from afar,
Is better than not loving you at all.


If I could love but one thing about you,
What would it be? Contrary to today’s myth,
I would not say “looks” which although
Important, would rank no higher than number
Ten on my list.

Before that, numbers
Six through nine would be filled with things like,
Your sensitivity, your intelligence,
Your compatibility and its corollary,
Attraction – that immutable force drawing
Me to you like blood to a beating heart,
Flowing through my veins with the full flush
Of desire and amour.

Numbers five, four and three would be shared
Equally by your personality – how
You reveal yourself to your world with all
Those distinctive characteristics that make you
You, your generosity of spirit and your
Devotion to life from all its insipid, boring
Details through all its manifestations as you move
Through time and space on your singular orbit
Giving incessantly and unfailingly
Of you. No, not even this would be enough.
For transcending them all like any true
Hierarchy is the complex creation
Whose sum is you – the quintessential
Embodiment of being
For whom life is conceived as a series
Of precious moments, each one as pure
As the next and each an open door to any
Who would share in the creation of its memory.


When you’re gay
dating is just the same
as if you were straight.

instead of holding hands,
you walk behind him
to avoid being harassed.

instead of gazing deeply into his eyes,
you make sure no stranger is staring
when you go in for a kiss.

instead of enjoying the bliss
of a loving embrace,
you protect yourselves
from the man with bulging eyes
who repeatedly shouts
at the top of his lungs:
“The bible says,
one man and one woman,
one man and one woman!”

Then, you spend the rest
of your evening
calming down your date
who no longer feels safe
being held in your arms.


I can feel her in every beat of my heart.
the thump thump thump
spells her name in morse code.

The plastic stars on my bedroom ceiling, draw a picture of her face.
and the bumps on my skin are a map leading straight to her.

She is ingrained in my being,
fitted in my existence,
embedded in my brain,
and sentenced to my heart.

She runs through my veins,
and seeps through my tears.
she frolics in my laughs,
and breathes in my lungs.

she takes.
and she takes and she takes,
and she takes,
i give,
and i give and i give
and I give.

Because her soul is a mountain,
i am destined to climb,
and only to happy
to plummet from.


Don’t fall in love with people like me..
Honestly I wont swim the ocean full of sharks for you..

I wont take a bullet either, whats the point? Ain’t that a little bit selfish of you,
I mean being shot and after my burial you’ll forget like nothing ever happened.

Keep away from people like me; romance is never our language..
There is no day you will come home and find the hallway and the bed covered with rose petals, not even candle dinners – well unless there is power outages…

Keep your distance from likes of me..
I will make you hate your willingness to live…
I will kiss you in the park, take you to all the beautiful places that you so much love and kiss every single air out of you…
Just so when you will be coming back to these places you will never forget to feel my presence!!


If, as you say, you are blind to the color of skin,
Does the glare of privilege
Obscure racism’s past, present and future?

If, as you say, you are blind to the color of skin,
Are you deaf to howls that scales of justice
Be balanced in black and white?

If, as you say, you are blind to the color of skin,
Can you feel earth tremble with rumblings of marching feet
Thundering to a drummer’s beat for equality?

If, as you say, you are blind to the color of skin,
Do you recognize hunger steeped in poverty,
Slavery’s legacy served up cold on empty plates?

If, as you say, you are blind to the color of skin,
Are you numb to searing pain pouring
From gaping wounds of bigotry?

If, as you say, you are blind to the color of skin,
May your eyes see privilege in living color;
May your ears hear cries for justice in stereo sound.

If, as you say, you are blind to the color of skin,
May your body shake with vibrations of equality
And be cut open by sharp blades of bigotry.

If, as you say, you are blind to the color of skin,
May your heart become as tallow
That flames you to a living truth.