A simple goodbye, a rule we defy,
A faith that we keep and the ones we let die,
A knock on the door from a friend or a foe…


A promise returned, a secret we learn,
An unsuitable turn into places we don’t want to go,
When the wheels of fortune spin out of control…


A kind word tattooed on the marrow of our bone,
An ugly retort forever on loan,
All the things that we say, and the things that we don’t…


A birthright, a snakebite, a phone call at night,
A lottery ticket, a vicious gunfight,
A dream that we work for, and those we let burn…


I Came Here To Move

This old record’s skipping,
there’s dust in the groove.
Well, not by the soles
of my new dancing shoes.

Side B’s got a track
that I love, so I flip it.
I came here to move
and be moved by the music.

My blues didn’t sound
Like a meaningful song.
The sweet-talking sorrow
Did not turn me on.

But Funk’s got
the same shade
As gold Tourmaline
That begs me to move
and be moved by the music.

I turn down the lights,
And I swallow the sound.
Sway to the licks, and I
float off the ground.

It’s magic that flows
Through my body.
It’s quick.

I came here to move
And be moved by the music.


A man takes strides
To pave the way
for the future –

But his yesterday
as a butcher
rears its bloody head
as a tumor

That wants to
see him

There’s a humor to it
When all is said and done,

He’s the loser
In the spiderweb
he spun.

It’s a suture
On a fested wound
That’s sprung

When the rooster
That he thought
he killed one dawn

one morning:

“Now…I come for YOU.”

Taming My Tongue

It’s hard to write a love song
When my heart is caving in.

I think of you
and all I wanna do
Is eat my pen.

Oh, one thing I can do
Is give it straight
But then again –

An angry tongue
Commands no passion
It goes too far with them.

Your storms unearth
old shipwrecks in me.

I’ve sailed these seas before.

For what, I can’t recall.
I guess it’s time I hit the shores.

I’m heavy with some loaded words
That won’t see light of day

The Obamas say
“If they go low, we go high.”

I go away.

This Love Is…

I wake up to the view of a sleepy city,
Morning skies of pink and purple.
Snow is blue, and orange lights are pretty.
I taste the air of waking up with you…

Like cinnamon on coffee, cream, and sugar
Too hot to swallow but I won’t spit you out.
Burn my tongue on my new favorite flavor.
Love is pain and sweet, without a doubt.

Wide awake, I hear the sound of Tuesday.
Morning skies give way to the midday sun.
City loud, like a hammer on a railway.
I taste you in the booming and the hum.

Like Green tea, milk and honey stirred so tender…
Too hot to swallow, but I won’t spit you out.
Burn my tongue on my new favorite flavor.
Love is pain and sweet, without a doubt.

Just An Opinion

It’s just an opinion
With no basis in fact
A mind-numbing view
Of a book, you’ve not read
You can share all your theories
With your friends and your pets.
They’ll just be opinions
With no basis in fact.

I believe in my actions,
Not the words of a foe.
I believe in the reaping
Of the seeds that I sow.

I believe in the motion
Of the wheels of my mind.
I believe in the power
Of my hustle and grind.

When it comes to opinions
You’re entitled to yours.
The best thing about them:
They can sometimes be false.

So believe in whatever.
I’ll believe in myself.
Have a nice day, so long
And be well.

My Cold Heart & Its Tender Centre

My cold heart and its tender center
Gets me through all kinds of weather.
It gets me through the sunshine and rain.

It picks me up when I am down
It turns my smile into a frown
It beats so loud, I cannot hear my brain.

It waxes and it wanes, and then,
builds my house, and burns it down
It’s not a friend and the best damn confidante.

It wakes me up, it snoozes me,
It pumps me pain and ecstasy,
It keeps me warm and freezes my hell over.

It brings the troubles, smooths the sand,
Punches me and lends a hand,
It fucks me up and fucks me good,
And then…

It lies to me and spits the truth,
So refined until uncouth,
It does until it doesn’t do
And then…

It opens doors and slams them shut.
It knows jack shit and knows what’s what.
It knows I’m good as gold and dark as sin.

All the bad I’ll ever do,
Will be on purpose, no excuses.
Only reasons here, and good ones too.

All the good I’ll ever do
Will be on purpose, no excuses.
Only reasons – bad and foolish too.

It knows me, and I know it well.
It gives me light and gives me hell.
It stirs the pot and keeps the peace,
And, well…

It beats the rhythm I adhere to,
The only rhythm that I hear.
My dear heart, thank you so, my sweet.
Also, heart – Fuck you.