The Colors of Poetry

Photo by Craven Bing Jr. on Unsplash

dip me in chocolate-covered rhyme
like the color of my skin
a young woman once drowning now lives on the shores of truth
sweating similes from her pores
a fresh coat of passion that shines something like melanin
can I scorch you with radiance?
breathing inspiration like oxygen
singing compassion, smoking lyric
and sipping on rhythm slow like the stride of a black man
the crackling compasses beneath his footsteps
clutching couplets like purses confused
by the uncertainty of his smile
the sugarcoated twinkle in their eyes
or the question mark in her walk
her hips sway
like six children, no man, and give up
but I got this mouth full of simile
this fist full of irony
this metaphor-shaped voice in my throat
a delicate coating of poetry to wash away the broken
so let me cocoa butter your heart into the palms of my hands
be Vaseline to your ashy and together
we’ll bind the broken wings of peanut butter,
and vanilla
and milky way,
and dark-covered freedoms
like the colors of poetry
on my skin.

Advertisements

The PBS Blog Podcast – Ep 6 Be Gentle with Yourself

Today’s episode is about being patient and gentle with yourself. We already spoke about responsibility and discipline. If you set a goal and you didn’t meet that goal, don’t beat yourself over the head. We need time to grow physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and professionally in whatever we are doing. This is a process. It even takes time to heal. Give yourself that time. Don’t verbally abuse yourself and talk down to yourself. There are plenty of people in the world who will do that for you. Spare yourself the added abuse by being gentle with yourself.

Be sure to subscribe to my Soundcloud page for notification of new episodes.

Episode 6 – Be Gentle with Yourself

The PBS Blog Podcast Ep 2- Love without an Agenda

Another Episode of The PBS Blog Podcast has been uploaded. Today we are talking the importance of extending love to people without an agenda. The inspiration came from a quote to which I don’t know the author but it goes: “People grow when they are loved well. If you want to help people to heal, then love them without an agenda.”

Check it out below and be sure to subscribe for episode updates (as I have no set schedule for this. While I’ll update this blog at the notice of new episodes, you may want to subscribe just to be sure you don’t miss any).

Episode 2 – Love without an Agenda

No Whining Wednesday – Write It on Your Heart

Yup, it’s that time of the week again. First, if you’re new to this blog or this segment please check out the first post HERE for more information on what this is all about. In brief, this is the only day of the week where you do not get to Whine, Complain, or Criticize.

The No Whining Wednesday Badge

“Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year. He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety. Finish every day and be done with it. You have done what you could. This new day is too dear, with its hopes and invitations, to waste a moment on the yesterdays.”

 Ralph Waldo Emerson

Mat 6:25 “Because of this I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you shall eat or drink, or about your body, what you shall put on. Is not life more than the food and the body more than the clothing.”

If there is something that you need, write it on your heart and when the sun peaks through the sky to indicate a new day, do something small to help manifest that dream. Challenge yourself not to do too much. It is not necessary. One small, tiny action and one single leap of faith in the right direction every single day is all that you need. A year from now you will look up and see you are a different person and far more ahead than originally anticipated.

If every day is a new day, embrace it as if it is so. Yesterday’s problems do not exist here and tomorrows problems have not come as of yet. Today is fresh and exciting and ready to be appreciated and filled.

For Those Who Are Sad

Can I cradle you in the nook of my arms? If you were here, would you let me? Hold you I mean? I don’t just want a hug. I want to hold you so we cry together. Kiss the top of your forehead like a mother would. On the shoulder of comfort, let your tears drench my shirt and I will love you like an infant. Can these words hold your head up? I do not want the soft spot of your pain to blemish the fragile newness of the warrior you are becoming. Your critics will look at what you are, but I see what you can become. But you’ve got to let me do my job. Let me hold you. Cradle you in my arms. This is not a blog. Not today. Today this is air. This is breath. This is the permission to breathe. This is words wooing lullabies for the exhausted spirits of the broken.