Stacking Rocks

I've been told to stop
stacking rocks
to let what nature does
do nature's will

so here I write
and stack another rock
the chasm of my heart
its left to fill

because I know
these stones don't
stack here
perfect

because I know
the past turns red
to blue

I will not let
the weight of
all that's worth it

tell falsehoods
that are waiting
to be true

So when I'm stacking rocks
atop these pages,
don't think of all the nature
left disturbed

remember how I laid
them for the ages,
this path was well-warn
once, then not returned.

Black Pearly Gates

As if the pains of my dear freedom's master
could be forgotten with a paper slip,
like wounds and scars, so cast in fleshy plaster,
would wash away like blood flung from the whip,

So when you beat back ghosts of the land's burden
remember who still benefits, who lacks;
when trumpets play, when pearly gates do open,
the whip, the chains, the rope, the scars, the crack

because to work does not entail title
the land that was once yours is yours again
like horses lead on leadened bite and bridal,
it smothers bodies but it calls us "friend."

Oh, Now my flesh is gone; in death, I'm free
and Peter blesses all in Ebony.

One Poem Away

We are all one poem away from greatness
because many of the great poets that we know
only have one great work to speak of

We are all one poem away from greatness
for when we read the works of masters,
we soar among clouds, in the pillows of whiteness
between the letters on the page

We are all one poem away from greatness
the psalms and songs of ourselves only
come to life when we wake them with
your pressing eyes and pressing lips,
the beauty's kiss of cognition.