Letters of Love

Four years ago today, I set out to write my very first poem, A Stroll At Sunset. Over and over again, down through the years, I’ve been back at poetry writing. Even when I decided that I wasn’t going to write another poem, I still found myself writing a poem today 🙂 For the sake of completing my new website, I had to do a quiet release of my poetry book — Letters of Love — a few months back and I haven’t done much to promote it since then….

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Four Little Souls

Four little souls, Sitting in a row, Come, says Father, You will go thither. Will you be Black? Or will you be White? Will you be Asian? Or let chance decide? Oh, says the one, I’ve always been White, Grant me now this privilege To be Black for once. Thou knowest, Father, Says the other one, That being Black has never Helped me live the life. I could be Asian, Says yet another, But look here the mark, Where they hanged me on a mast. Thou art gracious, Father, Says…

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Civilization

What is this craze that I see? “Marvel not, my son, they call it ‘Civilization.’ As the hunter civilizes his dog and the charmer civilizes his serpent, so the god of this world has civilized the hearts of the sons of men.” What is this noise that I hear? “Wonder not, my child, that is the sound of desperation. For the people have abandoned the substance of their reality, and channeled their hearts after vain and imaginary things.” What is this foul thing that I smell? “That, my son, is…

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