"Use your voice. Let it be the key to your soul."

Where I'm From

Portfolio selection #1, 'Who Am I?'

I am from the portrait upon a mid-morning canvas.
from a case of sheared shades of graphite,
and passion projected onto a blank apparatus.

I am from the staves & sheets filled with melodic concepts,
and expressive motifs from the influence of virtuosic architects.

From novels may they be graphic or text,
filled with illustrations of horror, hurt
and an endless perseverance of a disciplined head.

I 'm from the disruptive digital design.
From an experience overflowing with innovation,
derived from the creative yet empathetic mind

I am from the afternoon push from the top of the playground slide
From the cusp of the unknown to the risks taken from the cast of the die.

I am from the dish served at the next Sunday brunch,
blessed with hollandaise on poached eggs, hash and greenery hunched.

From a candlelit dinner surrounded by eclectic entrees and casual wears,
I am from the gift of a blue rose to she who I hold most dear.

From the sensual sip from the glass of the chocolate martini
followed only by the gleeful bite of a sugar-spoiled pastry,
I 'm from the taste of strawberry lips to consensual ecstasy.

I am from the slow uprising of undercurrents and volcanic rock.
From the remnants of a neighbouring island upon mother nature's tireless clock

I am from pastel painted waters sweetly serenaded by a steel drum,
and from the pallid skin covered by liquid screens under the Caribbean sun

I am from the tiled tabletop, humbly decorated with the evening meal
From macaroni-pie to baked ham; potato salad and beverages popped with zeal.

I am from the song of independence sung by the progenies of slaves.
From the battering winds of September 's hurricanes,
and the seasonal burning of heaven-reaching sugarcane.

I am from the fondness of my family's hot Sunday morning drive,
against the breaking waves of the Atlantic along the eastern coast.

From between the loving arms of guardians whose overprotective abundance,
eclipsed the emotional needs which to me, mattered most.

I am from the carefully applied plasters hiding another day’s verbal scars,
inflicted by schoolyard words devoid of true intelligence and heart.

From a father whose plans for stability and security were meticulous at best,
His vision for my future blinded him from seeing my overarching stress.

From a mother, though whose life was ravaged by a cancerous force,
showed me how to live mine with pride, honour and superfluous remorse.

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The Voice

Portfolio selection #2, "Abstract Noun"

From the encampment of the womb, it was born
Grown from the blending of learnings once lorn
Its words without grammatical structure or form
Longing to express feelings of a nurtured scorn

A temperament tactfully taught to bury deep within
Absolution of thought seen as an unforgivable sin
The alienation through adolescence spread so thin
Freedom of youthful expression it could never win

Upon adulthood's first light, opportunity burned bright
The palette of choice came to be such a dazzling sight
Away from the land which spurred its unfathomable plight
Onto that where rascally rhetoric ruled the night

Unsurety and rejection made recluse its impassioned visions
A shallow sea of racial biases led to unconfident decisions
Suppressing further the thirst for positive proclamation
It hid behind curtains of self-induced isolation

Alas an awakening of awareness erupted from inside
Shattering social shackles that hindered its pride
Saliently Soaring the once treacherous mountainside
The voice found its reason to soar the limitless skies

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This jubilant moment, oh for how long have I waited?
Since before the midsummer's night when we first dated.
At a social gathering, surrounded by eloquence and elites
That night when you took me under your silk-laden sheets.
Upon these sweaty palms we are forever fated to be joined
Guided by a subtle script, purchased with father's coin.
As the clergyman prompts you the long-practiced question
My thoughts are adrift as to what led to this occasion

It was on that night under a full sapphire moon
My loins screamed as you thrust me into a swoon.
Your warmth enveloped my naked yet weakened frame
As I held your sculpture while moaning your name.
Though there were many advances to whom I reject
Yours was the only one that I could not neglect.
With your slick black mane reflecting the light
Dressed in designer garments, much to my delight

The months which followed were absolutely fabulous
The dinner parties, the events, a life so glamorous
The weekend getaways, the travels and 5-star escapes.
The endless selfies, such pleasures my friends forsake.
None more rewarding than the spread of our social pics
The envy in their words makes me yearn for your dick.
Ensuring our active lifestyle follows current trends
I aim to maintain my status, the desire of other men.

Having his children, oh what a wondrous event that shall be
Gazing upon the culmination of our genes fills me with glee.
The thought of having to settle for someone outside of my race
Daddy was right, I'm thankful to God that I never lost my place.
Remembering that morning after the anniversary of our 7th week
I glared and cringed at the sight residing degrees from my seat .
A pale-skinned child, flattened facial features and shortened neck
In this transport, let me be not seen with this parental regret.

Though there were times I enjoyed our cool evening walks
Some were basked with unpleasantries, not always your fault.
Though you spoke of injustices and aiding those with less
I prefer evenings without thoughts of poverty's stress.
It is by luck to have met a being with such affluence
He who continues to widen his family's fame and influence.
The fear of laying beside those without hope or ambition
I must maintain my status, the conjurer of his decisions.

Our third valentine was met with such exuberance and ecstasy
Oh I was aghast at the depth your pockets bestowed on to me.
Candlelight dinner preceded by the gallop of twin horses
Your sheepskin embrace followed by wet interlocking forces.
My blind spot prevailed, an apparition guided by silver sails
Wrapped in cheap garments of wool; molded Legless and frail.
By handle and spoke, let the winds wallow this damaged joke
What woman would ever give herself to these disabled folks?

These memories, though not all precious, I continue to cherish
Our life together will be perfect, a love to be embellished.
It's the dream of every princess, though only few are achieved
Maintaining my happiness, from you, this is all I'll ever need.
As the radiance of his blues pierce my anxiously awaiting accord
His recent silence is broken by the jettison of a verbal sword.
And with these tears that break from the crevices of my eyes
I wonder, are these the tears of joy, or did I suddenly die?

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My Mind's Eye

In the midst of the twilight symphony that surrounds,
There is a feint familiarity among several simple sounds.
As gentle steps sweep the surface of ruptured ground,
A feeling once lost, has now been unexpectedly found.
As hypnotic rhythms echo from a closing heartbeat,
The aging pine ripples as she discreetly takes her seat.

The scent of sand, salt and sea fills the autumn breeze
While we silently sit under a cool shade of falling leaves.
There is a sweet blend of passion fruit nestling in her hair
She whispers arduous tones, as her body draws near.
Her strawberry smell beckons the blush on my cheeks
As my trembles tickle the tiny hairs along my cold feet.

Her tiny fingers slowly caress the wrinkles of my face
As my fear succumbs to the collapsing of empty space.
She invites me to touch the smoothness of her skin
Such innocence is beheld as I lose all sense of sin.
The wetness of her lips sends shivers up my spine
I'm caught in her embrace, as her fancy floods my mind.

Within this silence. I taste the sweet nectar of her kiss
A taste for so long denied to me; a taste I cannot resist.
The whistling winds proceed with unsolicited rasp
Her grip tightens; for how long shall this love lust last.
The winds grow colder as the curtains of the day lower
Dew drops tap our foreheads as the rains begin to shower.

Under a wooden structure, she seals me in velvet covers
Wiping away the clouds' tears, we cuddle like virgin lovers.
Her speech is serenity, with a scent of seductive surety
Never have I felt so comforted, a dream of absolute purity.
My senses are kind, I can see her beauty with my mind
In my heart, I believe, it was no curse that I was born blind.

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Watching the caterpillar crawling on its legs
Slow may be its journey, yet she need not beg
Slight as they are, her strength takes her far
Her purpose is stronger; fed only by her heart

A feint shadow clutches the chains to her past
Recoiling the spirt, dragging into a realm aghast
Tiny legs continue to push the desire for change
Letting not the voice of dismay lessen their range

Blanketing herself in a nest held by a secure hold
Allowing its silky silence to soothe her shaken soul
Memories try to protrude with their sinister intent
While her growth continues to shed the stains of lament

The time is nigh, as the dawn encapsulates the skies
Into a muddy recluse return the creatures of the night
While brightness blooms simple sounds escape her room
Embracing a new day's sun; emancipation from the cocoon

Here she takes flight, dancing on wings of obsidian delight
Eyes glistening as the new world is set upon her sight
Placing the memories of madness under careful lock and key
The heart of this butterfly now sheds tears of liberty

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To Be Human

"Towards A Spiritual Journey"

And this I bestow onto you; a future I'd hope you never knew
A future you shall own; one filled with endless showers of scorn.
You sit, you ponder, heed these cryptic words I bellow from yonder
What possibly could one mean, by this speech of rhetorical wonder?

Upon the day when your hazy eyes hasten to meet their first sun
You will learn what it's like to live a life devoid of fun.
Though between the loving embrace of strong arms you'll be kept
This, my child, will be the only sense of acceptance you'll get.

Let us speak of this more; a pleasant period you must endure
Remember these acts of nurturing; It shall be your source of lore.
Jealousy will always loom; it's shadow will stain your skin.
Cherish their teachings; continue to summon strength from within

While your mortal growth is preceded by flaking walls of learning
Your existence will be mocked by jester's jeers and boundless bullying.
You'll recede into a familiar darkness and let slip a silent cry
Attached to the security of home; delivering a daily desire to die.

For you do I weep, as an elder's wisdom is forced onto your soul
Watching as children craft curses under a racially charged mould.
Influenced by those who proclaim that morals and values are a must
With such a serpent's tongue, however, could I inspire you to trust.

Your neighbours will be like vultures; they'll pick and they'll gnaw
Ripping apart your imperfections, your insecurities, and your flaws.
Best not retaliate, your impulses will be overthrown by man's laws
Knowing that eventually, suppression will come from malicious maws.

Your model for women will derive from those who calmed your heart
Let it not waiver, though constantly crushed by prejudiced remarks.
Rejection and ridicule, their scathing scars you shan't soon forget
Let not an eruption of anger lead to a judgement you'll regret.

As your growing desire for intimacy is tempted by feline scents
Their duplicitous words will give birth to an automatic defense.
Repeated will be their actions, pretentious will be their gaze
Loneliness will be your lover, are you prepared for that phase?

It's a shame, whence briskly walking between the crowded streets
Shrill and sunken be your posture, knowing you will never be at peace.
Engaged in meager tasks, a privilege, justly given to those who ask
While their ghastly glares deliver despair to your wanting path.
And in those moments of sulphur and silence, you'll dream of suicide
your emotions, like a recklessly wrapped web slowly severing inside.
Aghast as others succumb to the urge; their lives alone they purge
Do you think it long before you'll be a spectator to the inevitable dirge?

Despite your trials or tribulations, ambition towers over frustration
It's admirable how you forge a resolve filled with such adulation.
Though man's politics will deny you the freedom to express your vision
Let no man deny you the omnipotence of your dreams and your decisions.

And after these images, thoughts and ideas are planted in your head
tell me my child, on to this corrupted earth do you dare to tread?
Due to a genetic lack of color, not unique, but surely peculiar to others
Will you accept my gift; a tormented life born from this seeded mother?

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Passion, honesty, and intelligence
An honourable person at best.
Beckoning for deep conversation
Laying all false judgement to rest.

Let the cold winter winds whistle
As it animates her black velvet hair.
Show me a pure and gentle smile
With lucid eyes, into my soul she stares.

Caring, self-respectful shall she be
A true lady, roaming gallantly and free.
Without regrets she has always lived
An eternal warmth, to me, shall she give.

Let her be cooled by rains of ambition
Assured are her values and decisions.
By embracing her contours of emotions
Her steps are as grandiose as her devotions.

Underneath cloudless moonlit covers
Shall we bare our souls to each other?
To love thineself for whom you are
Her will shall soar like a falling star.

The materialistic heart she will do without
Her bond with the earth will forgo any doubt.
The seer is the believer. her mind is a gem
In my eyes she is my root, and I am the stem.

By the words exchanged on every page
Will she reveal the beauty beyond the stage?
Leaving behind the conditioning of her past
Creating memories that are meant to last.

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For My Mother

"In Loving Memory..."

She left us today, in the year of twenty fifth-teen, January 16
Not without warning, though I hid the pain under a pretentious sheen
Strapped within a jet-fueled precipice; anxiously awaiting to be by her side
Ignorant, as her salient soul set sail while the body slowly died.

Aghast was I when exposed to juxtaposed tales of family squabbles
Bred in jealously, two generations raised in a carefully crafted bubble
What should have been an assemblage of compassion and support,
Was nothing more than a catalyst for a broken heart buried in dirt.

Upon my arrival to the isle where she delivered me onto the earth
Chills were bestowed upon me; a tempo of chaos preluded the hurt
Before me, he stood; standing steadily, just like I knew he would
That tunnel of silence between us, spoke the words he never could.

Several weeks prior, on a wet November night unlike any other
I received a late evening's call; praying it was my mother
After his solemn hello, father slowly passed her the receiver
The deathly state of her voice, instilled in me a sudden fever.

Never once in my years, have I experienced such a towering fear
Without thought, I hastened to leave the turmoil of my career
For after the following day's sun had succumbed to its regress
On that eve, I beheld a pale shadow riling in pain and sweat.

Just under a fortnight I stood aghast as many a miracle ensued
Gazing upon a metamorphosis, from the jaws of death to a soul in bloom
Many a night, like a cretinous coward, in the darkness I sank to my knees
Raising my hands up to moonlit skies, as I beckoned to God for her release.

His reply delivered onto me a slither of hope amidst the cloudy skies
For what my unbelieving eyes saw, was a woman who retained her pride
Refusing to accept any physical purchases which would bring her aid
On skeletal legs she stood, while walking towards a farewell silently bade.

What followed was the display of love & loyalty for a husband confined to bed
Who contracted an island wide virus which brought a lightness to his head
Though I accepted the challenge to return the loving care bestowed onto me
With those aids once shunned, by his weakened side, did she not force to be?

And though that pressing period with her was nearing its unfortunate end
I recall a statement so simple yet symbolic; how could I have missed it then?
"If I can't bathe, clean or feed myself; to your father, I no longer wish to be a burden."
Only from she who carried such strength, did dignity rise like a morning's curtain.

Reliving the journey from the comfort of cotton sheets to a cold x-ray bed
Upon which I placed her wilting body as my fingers soothed her sunken head
Wrapping her trembling arms around me with all the strength she could muster
Her screams bellowed gratitude to he who she raised and never once left her.

These memories I carried with me as loved ones prepared to lay her to rest
They, amongst others, flood my mind as I sat in the house, she lovingly dressed
What was once filled with endless laughter and counsel to neighboring friends
Is now shrouded in tales constantly replayed to soothe grief's unwelcomed trend.

On the day of the funeral where a candid tribute was delivered to a saddened lot
I repressed my tears, and stood proud to honor the years in which she fought
And as I watched her coffin covered corpse, wheeled between walls of dancing flames
I stood beside him, as a collected pile of cooling ash was impressed upon her name.

As time trickles by and words of acceptance continue to echo from my lips
A hefty cardboard box retains the essence of all that she was and eternally is
Until a place of prestige is procured in which these ashes will forever reside
Under this wood-framed cotton sheet cover, will they be cherished until I die.

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The sun is setting, the day has cooled
The evening winds begin to howl
While the city's children return from school

Linens are laid, microwaved meals are spread
Homebound kisses are shared
While young mothers prepare our beds

Pages are turned, enchanted tales are read
The gentle words of our bearers soothes us
As we are tucked under cotton-weaved threads

Into vivid dreamscapes, enchanted and bold
Wrapped in the arms of a loving embrace
Just to feel the warmth of our mothers' soul

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Within this crumbling tower of moss and stone
Do I solemnly lay in this darkened corner alone?
In a fetal recluse, the chills clench my bones
Cuddled in pity, inviting the darkness to my home

Following the insatiable need is a sense of apathy
To deny is to suffer the desertion of its ecstasy
Too long have I not felt it course through my veins
Like bittersweet nectar, only it can relieve my pain

Shards of Victorian design reflect what once was
A pallid shadow, chapped lips, frizzled and fuzzed
An aristocrat's attire, torn and burnt by fire
Just one taste, an injection to sooth my desire

The shakes get stronger, I won't last much longer
Only it can heal the scars of this villainous monger
Scratching at the sunken skin under weeping eyes
Blood tears flow as the whispers retake the skies

Madness takes hold as the faceless enters my abode
With skeletal fingers, they approach like goads
Chaotically clawing at the wounds upon my flesh
This insatiable need continues to escape my breath

A timeless thirst, see how it mocks me at my worst
The immortal journey, onto me has delivered its curse
Like a withering Chrysanthemums, I succumb to decay
Without blood, my morning ashes shall simply drift away

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Winter's Bane

Beyond my brow, lies the endless sea of winter white
Writhing winds enmesh me as they deny evening's light.
The soles of my feet step wearily into icy pits of snow
The pain in their gaping wounds no one will ever know.

Behind me, the haunting hounds of Nordic night reside
By strength of will, my fading spirit continually strives.
Their constant howls agitate the bitter chill in my bones
How I do so long for the wooden warmth of my home.

The hellish huffs of their breath gradually become clearer
As the strong scent of blood, draws them ever so nearer.
Such cunning hunters, tormenting me whilst I flee in fright
The crimson glow in their eyes gleams in absolute delight.

Employing a sense of urgency, as this body turns blue
Hopeless are my efforts as I tempt the inevitable doom.
An adagio of chattering teeth; the answer to my sins
In agony I scream, as they pierce the surface of my skin.

For mercy I beg, but my feint bellows course in vain
These heartless beasts, know they not of my pain?
This colorless canvas, now stained with chunks of flesh
Will He hear the prayers from this man's dying breath?

They rip, and gnaw as they approach my beating heart
I have nothing left to give, please take my soul apart.
In absolute horror I gaze, as they plunge into my gut
Tearing at the liver, as they revel at such a patulous cut.

Onto the sparkling floor, I vomit forth fountains of blood
A putrid scene hidden by towering layers of winter scud.
Crystalline clustered falls cover the furs of black and gray
Even in death, there is irony shining brightly with disdain.

With jagged edged claws, they gash deep into my chest
Forced lacerations release the meat beneath my breast.
The bitter cold pierces the blackened fingers on my hands
A ragged doll resides where once stood an assiduous man.

Ravenous totems of terror, their fangs viciously dive deep
Severing the arteries, in aghast, I slowly succumb to sleep.
Under the pale moonlight I am prey to this fiendish game
Alone do I lie; another casualty buried under winter's bane.

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