System we endure
Unknowingly put in place long before
Systematic oppression
Praised by impoverished as a blessin
Single mother you're qualified
Except one thing
Child's Fathers name you have to hide
So you obey and abide
By the rules
This income serves as substitution
As easy way out
Not a permanent solution
Called benefits yet you suffer
Ruled by desperation
Stagnant nation
Ran by the administration
So you fill out hundreds of applications
all lined up early morning
Lines wrapped around the blocks
Like ants in an ant farm
Clawing at a piece of this decaying pie
Content with subpar conditions
This entitled mentality
Contradicted by begging and pleading
For continuation and no sanctions
It's not up to you
Your own fate
Realizations for many come too late
Hour glass once filled with sand now empty
Contributing to your own demise
You lay stagnant
Reluctant to advance
For some they never had a chance
Wednesday, December 6, 2017
Tuesday, December 5, 2017
Poem VI Part II
The trains glide so cleverly
The conductors must be magicians
Two trains meet at the track
All while not crashing into one another
Tracks laid down like puzzle pieces
Carefully placed, calculating every single space
Graffiti lines the walls, brands and tags
Of this Underground museum
Art on display
Artists of the jungle
Underground world hidden beneath the surface
Hobos seek refuge from the brutality outside
Riding carts become cubbies
Wooden benches their mattresses
Stations their rooms
Subway maps their wallpaper
Train announcements their alarm clocks
“Stand clear of the closing doors please”
“The next stop is…”
This house constantly moves
The inhabitants nomads
Awakened by the sudden jerking motion
Gliding over land, and sea
Connected by bridges to each borough
Transport requires such coordination
Yet elevators still reek of urination
The Result Small Revisions Poem 6
My eyeballs fixate on the wall across from me
Tick, tock, tick, tock
As the Little hand
chases behind the big one
Minute hand,
hour hand
Isn’t it time yet?
I think to myself.
On the wall once white now stained with hints of brown
The foam from the seat I’m seated in
Spills out of the cushion
Exposed like my naked body was the nights before
My Heartbeat fast like the Congo drum
My hands clammy, slips and slides
Softens the calluses that line my palms
They slide like butter now against each other
Sweat droplets gather in my dark moist crevice
My vaginal cave filled with his stalagmite
Back in the room
Our Feet and thighs shake
We all sit here lined up,
brave souls await their fates
“Next!”
The nurse’s voice blares like police sirens
Painful, startling like nails dragging across a chalkboard
The pungent smell of alcohol swabs and hand sanitizer burns
through the hairs in our nostrils
with each swing open of the door
My stomach churns and bubbles
Finally,
she walks over to me
I wonder who will be next
Curiosity
like duck, duck goose
Duck she walks past
Duck she walks past another
Goose! I am chosen
She hands me a white paper
It’s folded over
My fate on the other side
My mind revisits the question
“What will you do if it comes back positive?”
Suddenly my mind ponders to all the “one night stands”
Passion turned horror film
When I allowed strangers deep inside my most vulnerable
places
Exchange of saliva as our lips part
Our tongues dance
As we Desperately race to “come”
Exchange of bodily fluids as he
prods and pokes at my
interior
he unloads in me, fills my emptiness
Pubic hairs tough like brillo pads rubbing against grease lined
dishes
My cavity his sink
I bathe in him
I envision the seminal fluid swimming in my womb
Vibrant and full of life
Their goal conception
Their destination the egg
Navigating through my cervix
Circling my ovaries
Our act like Russian roulette
But was the gun loaded or empty that night?
Only this paper will tell
The Result Poem 6
My eyeballs fixated on
The hands of the clock ticking almost deafens me
Tick, tock, tick, tock
Little hand chases behind the big one
Minute hand, hour hand
How much time has passed?!
Isn’t it time yet?
I think to myself.
On the wall once white now stained with hints of brown
The foam from the seat I’m seated in
Spilling out of the cushion
Exposed like my naked body was the nights before
Heart beating fast like the Congo drum
My hands clammy, slipping and sliding
Softening the calluses that line my palms
They slide like butter now against each other
Sweat droplets gather in dark moist crevices
Like stalagmites dripping from caves
Feet and thighs shaking
We all sit here lined up,
brave souls awaiting their fates
“Next!”
The nurse’s voice echoes in our ears like sirens
Painful, startling like nails dragging across a chalkboard
The pungent smell of alcohol swabs and hand sanitizer burns through the hairs in my nostrils
My stomach churns and bubbles with each swing open of the door
Finally, she walks over to me
Wondering who will be next
Curiosity like duck, duck goose
Duck she walks past
Duck she walks past another
Goose! I am chosen
She hands me a white paper
It’s folded over
My fate underneath on the other side
My mind revisits the question
“What will you do if it comes back positive?”
My mind ponders to all the “one night stands”
I allowed strangers deep inside my most vulnerable places
Exchange of saliva as our lips part
Our tongues dance
Desperately racing to “come”
Exchange of bodily fluids as he
prods and pokes at my interior
Unloading in me, filling my emptiness
Pubic hairs tough like brillo pads rubbing against each other’s sweat soaked groins
I envisioned the seminal fluid still full of life swimming in my womb
Their goal conception
Their destination the egg
Navigating through my cervix
Our act like Russian roulette
Was the gun loaded or empty that night?
Only this paper will tell
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