Skip to main content

Walk signal

The blackened sky promises more than just rain. 

The promise of complete destruction knocks on a frail, weathered door. 

Open door

Close door

Open door

Half way 

Door falling of the hinges, fresh paint covering the mildew. 

Strange hands gripping the handle, almost loosening the last rusting screw. 

The blackened sky promises more than just rain. 

Syncing with the troubled wind, secretly hoping for the rain.

Still

The unknown, blackened sky promises more than just rain. 

Trust the wind, trust the promise of rain. 

Trust. 

Blue skies painted black with false hope and broken hearts. 

Misguided, falling for the promise of rain. 

Was it wrong to hope, for a little bit of rain? 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I am the Sun

I am the sun. I rise, strong I stand,  stronger  with a purpose to shine.  I am the sun.  I set subtly and with power leaving behind a day’s worth of pain. A day’s worth of joy. A day worth remembering for a lifetime.  I am the sun.

Black Magic

Blackness has no off days. We don't get to pick which day we don't show up black. With everything that's going on we don't even get to call out black.  It doesn't matter if your a chocolate, caramel, coconut, coffee and cream mixed with honey black; still black. It doesn't matter if you're Deep South, New York made, straight out of Africa or a West Indian black; still black. It doesn't matter how hard they try to limit us, blackness prevails!  There is an ongoing revolution and this generation has been charged with making the foundation proud. The revolution has been televised, publicisized, spoken about emphatically. The black magic that spews from lyrics and the dash of paint on canvas that screams black liberation and pride. The revolution is ongoing.  The revolution is strong. Full black, army fatigue with the sweat and blood of our ancestors streaming down our faces.  Shackled but free!  Singing songs from the Akan tribe!  Upright, steadfast, and in formation.…

Some Friend

It's all good and dandy when I'm smiling and being everybody's favorite friend. Let me fall off and then everything and whatever becomes an "issue". I remember when I was being strong; strength was failing but I hung on to that rope.  The rope broke, I fell. I fell so deep, deeper than I've ever been.  It took a while and so much work to get out.  But,  Apparently being down isn't cool when and I couldn't be there to listen; when I wasn't smiling and pretend that everything was ok with me.  It's not cool when I shut down because I got were cold shoulders and abrupt responses when I needed a friend.  Apparently, It's not cool and I  become the villain because someone asked how I've been.  Someone who didn't judge my absence and was genuinely concerned but that wasn't the problem. The problem was the I wasn't there to hear your whining because I was in too much pain.  The pain you didn't see and pain you didn't care to see. But, …