01/22:POC

Empty Canvas

This page is my blank canvas to paint Brushed with my stories of tainted love and pain Strokes remember better than me Where I’ve been, who I’ve loved, what I’ve seen Recycled relationships Recycled heart Life has a way of naturally creating art I look at my canvas Filled with rhythmic notes of jazz Images dance before my very eyes Reminding me of how I once lived my life But back then I was but…

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01/22:POC

Broken Down Bird

I was meant to fly free like the birds I used to see Through the glass cases at the ROM Trapped, for my enjoyment I know now how they feel The ROM was my escape room Soothing my wounds Masterpieces on the wall Many dynasties did fall Yet paintings of a bygone era lives on But there’s no art Not any more Now I’m a bird Encased behind a closed door Waiting for the world…

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01/22:POC

Art Walk

The ROM was my favourite happy place Where I could trace Ancient majestic and royal faces Of Egyptians, Romans and Greeks I’d listen as busts and sculptures speak Their stories sublime Rich of this aura of renaissance history And Nefertiti’s magic kiss I used to walk in great mens shoes Down the road at the Bata muse But this year was filled with virtual virtuosity And images of reminisce The winter sunrise is picturesque Lake…

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01/22:POC

My prose Speaks Because… My Name

Angry and tired Of America Being in America For this version of America We are dying because of skin color Privilege Watching murderers get away with murder How many times? How many ways? Hands up, hands down Hands that pull triggers Everyone is vulnerable, capable Shot up Justice, Lady Liberty and Humanity What do my peers have? Those tents don’t count Those liars asking for a recount Those scheming are sell outs Who will blink…

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01/22:POC

My prose Speaks Because… Emergency

Assault and battery No judgment needed No protection against indifference Civil disturbance No payment instituted No inspection of those neighborhoods Burglary Now you are a Porch Pirate So you are too lazy to be decent Fire Now we burn our dreams to ashes So we learn from the aftermath Toxic fumes Need to rid society of this smell Need to send messages that tell My spirit is broken into pieces My psyche is drowning in…

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01/22:POC

My prose Speaks because… Truth

I try to laugh To keep from crying Neighborhood streets Reconstructed as third world countries I drive, I walk, I see Is all this necessary? Really I try to reason To ask those to help Once they arrive They forgot about the other side Money made as intelligence spent On getting to space or Star Trek I try to educate To better my community Offering Healing & Hope Most could care less until it effects…

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01/22:POC

The Questions

Good evening How are you doing? How are you feeling today? Tell me what kind of emotions have you experienced today? What brought about these emotions that you experienced? What were your automatic thoughts to these emotions? How often do you have these kinds of thoughts? What kind of evidence do you have to support these thoughts? Now take a deep breath Now I ask you how are you feeling today? – Bre’yon Williams

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01/22:POC

I love you Elijah

It’s Sunday evening. 55° F degrees outside with a slight breeze in the air. Sitting at a table and watching you enjoy a blueberry muffin with a bottle cold milk, while I’m sipping on a sweety/spicy Latte. Every time I look at you, I can’t help but smile. Every time I look in your eyes, I realize how you make my world complete. Your charming personality, and irresistible smile brings joy to everybody that walks…

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01/22:POC

The Storyteller

Her voice sounds warm like a fire without the crackle, like wood without knots and grains that flow out from the heartwood in gentle waves like rolling hills. She speaks while the radio crackles and the warbled voices stumble about in the blue background of warm noise. She speaks in a language I can’t understand Or don’t understand, or just don’t feel like understanding. All the better to simply listen to the music of her…

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01/22:POC

Snowfall

Snow falls heavy on my shoulders these nights, I feel (if I can say) Like a frozen Atlas shivering at the top of the world Bearing the weight of a thousand clouds, A thousand tears, None warm. Snow falls heavy on my head these nights, I feel (if I should say) As though I wear a crown cast in ice, Or just some weight in the shape of a crown, Without plating or pearls, Only…

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