Humble Mouths

Raw Perspectives! Wordplay from active minds and humble mouths.

Archive for the tag “togetherness”

Black in White

OK so…
Picture a neck and it’s attached to a rope
All the strands and fibers are the opposite of hope.
The knot is compassion, no matter how it seems because I threw my whole life at it and I’ll pay double to breathe.
Beams of pressure, relative to the mass of my weight under the stature of my stress.
Never thought I’d be aloft on a rope with Depression bouncing on my shoulders like a crazy 3 yr-old, thighs locked around my throat.
He gloats and the smell of a** at the back of my neck is revolting.
Tears fall out the pockets of my soul onto my cheeks.
Fear waves anxiously at me from a neighboring tree.
I kick, I kick, I swim…
Trying to displace enough air to lift my future out of this noose.
My hands go stiff, pre embalmed no more blood to claw at the hemp strands. They sink into my respiratory… my pulmonary, my spirituality and stop.

My tears subside and the viewing smiles lose their place in convulsions.
Pale faces, same faces that made aged faces sing amazing graces because of disgraces and segregated races boy I bet you wouldn’t wanna trade places!
This tree, almost companion less now knows me best and all of my carbon traces.
My pupils black and filled with death, face drained of light, left in fright, world once greens and reds and beautiful blues of all vertical shades and horizontal hues is only; white…

But it was born black?

***This is a direct response to the countless lives altered by the perpetuated hate of race or religion. #coexist ***


Let Them Talk

People tend to talk; almost like we be the trending topic.
I’ve got it!
Let’s get matching dog collars, spike our hair after black nail polish and go gothic,
Atleast then they’ll be entertained, although they won’t refrain from holding onto to us, like a drink in the hand of an alcoholic.

So what you’re into me like I’m into you!
Isn’t that what lover’s do?
Celebrate love like no tommorrow,
boast about love like no tommorrow,
Treat it tender incase there’s no tomorrow.
Who the fuck even said there would be a…
Tomorrow’s coming baby I gotta kiss you for during the intermissions I’ll be missing you,
Wishing you, wouldn’t care so much about the hot air bad breaths be spewing about us.
I can’t let you tolerate them, they and those.
I shouldn’t and wouldn’t.
Though its more of them than I,
Moreover we are more alive,
In the sense that you are my life.
In the sense that you oughta be my wife.

And we’ll do wedding bells and specific cakes,
ceremonial dress and petals near a lake,
And even then they’ll be talking.
So let’s do them the honors and bid them farewells until its good morning.

A Lover’s Draft


Dear You,

Wet oral parts greet foreheads, instead of the creases that come from tight eye brows, frowns, worry or sadness.
Kisses overweight, sporting love handles like grab this,
Smooches pop like 1st down wrist snaps during Super Bowl madness.
Romance for the sheiks, tongues wrap around each other like constrictor snakes,
Your face wears mine like Mac cosmetics…
PYT, D-I-Y, love opens regions no superstition,
Not just jean zippers, its the truth; True Religion!
Hands were meant to be held, roses were meant for you…
And love letters,
And park walks,
And movie nights accompanied by dinner, cuddles and dim lights
accompanied by moscato, blankets and thumb fights.
Followed by me making breakfast, you making faces enjoying the bacon,
toasts, eggs, waffles, fruit and butter bring Simply joy flavored orange like the juices,
Pulp-free or with, makes no difference to the next kiss,
True love draws True Blood and that embeds this:
Laying in the bed again, sheets doing the dress code, battle cries dumbed down to grunts and groans,
Your heels from Bakers playing audience to the repetitious tones.
Amen they’re tone deaf, but not the neighbors!
Are they even home yet?
We’re all adults, so love doesn’t need a cloak, a hoodie or trench coat, unless its a surprise and you’re Sir’s prize…

Sincerely Yours,

P.S. – “At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet” – Plato

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