if I were blind you would be the braille
and i’d read between the lines
part the lines between heaven,
earth and hell
where we exist beyond existence
and I’m convinced that God must be a poet
creating a work of art
of which I can peel back the layers
to your inner most beauty
written in your DNA, a genetic poetic composition of double helix strands
infinite in its meaning, an undying flame
licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Pain & Joy, the intersection of rhymes split open like a C-Section rib caged in paper clouds birthing a masterpiece of exposed flesh & heart
Insecure Perfection - Trigga Api
Change is constant but there’s nothing new under the sun, so i guess change is a cycle, where are you in the circle?
"The Trauma of Being…"
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
“Still Life with Police Sirens” - Zora Howard and Joshua Bennett
Tell them we kept it real, tell them our tongues were pistols and that (our) words were hollow tipped bullets aimed at your heart, and we pulled the triggers, tell them that we were kings and queens, and when we spit God manifested in the sound of our voices and the depth of breaths, the depth of our emotions that were too deep to take measurement