Category Archives: poetry
Essex Hemphill: Brother From Another Planet
The first time I heard Essex Hemphill‘s name was in the documentary Black Is… Black Ain’t by Marlon Riggs. His poetry was interwoven into the documentary beautifully. Hemphill began writing at age 14 and studied English at the University of … Continue reading
Starting Over: My journey as a writer
Maya Angelou Reading Still I Rise Reading Maya Angelou’s Still I Rise made me want to be a poet at 14. I wrote silly poems, kept in a 3-ring binder, and read them to anyone who listened. By the time … Continue reading
Filed under poetry, The Written Word
I’ve put down my beautiful cape: a poem
I’ve put down my beautiful cape the bulls can chase me through the streets carry me back home in gold and pink red cloth fogged what they saw a bearded man to flaunt I’ve put down my beautiful cape I’ve … Continue reading
happy endings and mic stands
hot java is a community coffee house in long beach’s gay ghetto at broadway and junipero. across the street from the coffee house is bixby park, a notorious park where gay men cruise (i accidentally found out it’s a cruising … Continue reading
Filed under poetry, save the date, The Written Word
The prostitute on Phillips Highway: a poem
Every car that passes She blows her, the car, a kiss Stop Just stop now She insists A kiss Equals a meal Some cigarettes She can almost taste the salt of him A white pickup passes She blows her, the … Continue reading
Sometimes how I find myself (in the media): a poem
flaming pink and blonde packaged more like Barbie not quite Ken in-between them an unexpectedness that makes good folk give him dirty looks
Filed under poetry
the metal dog: a poem
dog collars are to control black, something written on it, in silver he jumped up i picked him up men shouldn’t be so heavy
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alkebulan: a poem
(for Rodney) he poses in the bathroom mirror head tilted left benson and hedges cigarette pressed against dark lips white towel around his waist he smears foam shaving cream little strokes, cut memories of our mothers Related articles The prostitute … Continue reading
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the wink and the nod: a poem
I wait for it the wink and the nod hand to waist it’s dark enough for this to be ok come this way no come this way he walks his way if I walk his way we might be seen … Continue reading
Filed under poetry, The Written Word
