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Showing posts from March, 2018

The Tree Holding Back the Sea (Barry Sons - Berwick, LA)

I am the tree holding back the sea. Could you find in your hearts to stand with me? The last defense I am, for the marsh around my feet.
Stop the building. Stop rerouting waters flow. Stop the levees, let them go.
What kills me? If the river is not silting, it’s eroding. Ignorance, greed, the quick buck, arrogance, levees, spillways, damns, too much salt water is killing me.
The physics plain and simple, more marsh less catastrophe. I am the tree holding back the sea; stand together and fight with me. I give you life, give back, I plea. I am the tree holding back the sea.

My Destiny (Annette Redmond Walters - Lafayette, LA)

Fighting for my life In a world you cannot see; In my hand I hold a knife And wait for what’s to be; Like the man who beats his wife, My anger held inside of me; Living with the strife, Is this to be my destiny?
Trapped behind the wall, Solemn as I’ll ever be; Listening for that call, The one that sets me free; Hoping not to fall, Climbing for eternity; To climb this wall so tall, I know will be my destiny.

Isolation (Brandon Granger - Parks, LA)

Naked and afraid the darkness penetrates my Orifice with a sting of delight. I've become entranced by the mystery of the darkness and my Body has been devoured by its essence. This sensation is devoid of real happiness and has bewitched my Mind into seeking momentary pleasure. My identity has been lost and my path unclear. Crystal cocks have blotted from my soul the essence that was once Me. I'm left with mystery, misery, and myself to blame. The darkness has stripped me bare, standing silent and pained with Pleasure, to no avail.

I Pray (Faerie - Lafayette, LA)

For divinity I pray, as the iniquitous ones play their games. Insatiably I lay, wanting only to indulge in frequence. Their eyes, so perverse, are burning into my desires. Indignantly, I repress those maudlin ones as each tear they shed within causes me to disappear. You ogle at my martyr soul yet refuse to sacrifice in the name of passion. Insidiously, I walk a destined path as the corrupted ones perish in the wake of their proprietor.

The Fool (Blake Bumpus - Lafayette, LA)

Breaking the speed limit two or three times over. Stay on step, I’m only a muscle twitch from grievous injury or death.
A sudden movement, the snap of a serpent, inhaling deeply I try to trust my reason and my intuition.
I was veering on old mountain roads trying to not be distracted by the glowing stars and the shining snow so I kept my eyes on the flowing road, all I could think of was “Don’t lose control.”
I may be a fool, but I’m no dead man.
I may be a fool, but at least I’m no hanged man. I may be a fool, oh I may be a fool.

A Mutt Like Me (Louis Toliver Jr - Swartz, Louis)

No one is looking at me right now I can tuck away who I think they want me to be Here in this poem lies a remnants of me
Scattered in this grey abyss called life I am addicted to the anxiety of failure Could a mutt like me possibly ever be pure?
Tough questions on my soulless brain Or am I just tired of playing Hamlet My father died a long time ago to alcohol Is it wrong that this makes me happy? He use to beat me with hate in his eyes
Tough questions on my soulless brain Or am I just tired of playing dumb I want to be a white billionaire like Trump I hate the fact that I’m a Black mutt I don’t know what my heritage means Maybe I’m smarter than I think I am
My actual self these remnants of me

Betsy Ross, The American Flag, and Me (Louis Toliver Jr - Swartz, LA)

Aren’t you proud to be in a country where a woman’s creativity made one of the most empowering symbols in the world? The American Flag. I am.  I wonder what it would be like to go back in time and sit down and talk, while our great American Flag was being made by that creative seamstress, Betsy Ross. 
I imagine myself coming from the future in a time machine to Betsy.  I’d be eager to tell her about what America was like today. We would sit and talk about all those great lives that would die for the piece of fabric she was stitching together: Native Americans, European exiles, Confederate and Union slaves, patriotic men, working women, gay families, patriotic veterans, and devoted immigrants all with that American Flag-twinkle in their eye. Once I was done telling her about all the different fights for freedom, I imagine she’d ask, “When will we ever stop fighting for freedom?” I would say, “I don’t know.” There would be a short silence; hesitation and fear mixed with inevitability.
Whe…

Billy Lost His Gun (Louis Toliver Jr - Swartz, LA)

Poor Billy lost his gun ‘Cause he lost his gun The NRA was pissed Threw Billy out of the USofA
 His gun led him everywhere With no gun, or friends with guns
Billy wasn't a man no more
If Billy hadn’t lost his gun He’d still be a real man Get him a woman and a child Maybe even become President
Poor Billy can’t start over Billy don’t know right from wrong ‘Less he’s got the right gun
Billy can’t afford a new gun Billy ain’t got nowheres to go Billy don’t know how to use his brain Billy’s life just ain’t worth living

Sin (Faerie - Lafayette, LA)

Burning from within,
My sin
Is rubbing out on you;
Twisting coils
That scratch desire,
My eyes
Are haunting you beneath
My caressing lust;
My savage soul tears away
Your inhibition;
Come to me my sadist,
Lick my pain
And free my thirst;
I kneel for you to take for good
My innocence.

You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me (Louis Toliver Jr - Swartz, LA)

It’s ingrained in her brain. Your eyes glued. To my beautiful, manly ass. Which you’re never going to get. Little coward. You have to grow into a man first. Tell your poor girlfriend you like cock. Mine specifically. On any given day. You know every detail. Every inch. This isn’t cruelty. This is realism.
But wait. Lets back track. I’m no home wrecker. You came to me out of curiosity And I gave you knowledge Your girlfriend must hate me. But you came into my home. Talking love and all that silly shit. So, I just fucked you to shut you up Now, you’re hooked like a fish. If your girl only knew it’s wasn’t her fault. But like a coward. You have her thinking she’s the flaw.
As she suffers, I mostly lay in my hammock. Swaying like the wind. Reading poetry by Walt Whitman. Some of the time, you bring me snacks. Most of the time, you just want sex. I want to laugh, but it’s pretty sad. Another day. Another hetero goes homo. Face it. Your girlfriend will never be hot like me. She knows it. I know it. And, straight boy, you…