Day 6

 A part of me feels like I should be titling these pieces...but another part of me is too happy with the process.  So if you come across this like before I do a social media post, then great! But a video will be coming out here shortly.

....u do know that I do spoken word and play the sax right?? If not, c'mon I'm a fuckin' artist

Day 6

6th day,

6th time,

won’t go triple…

3rd eye blind 

We play cards given

never overplayin’ religion

or hands in the system

we protecin’ patience 

on the weekends 

while blowin’ woodwinds

feelin’ like 

a real musician

No mathematician 

for this historian

all glory be 

community, relativity

seein’ future dates 

on horizons

being silly

After the serious 

and curiosity hit

Let ‘em know 

we ten toes

in this (shhhh…)

 

This for the month

the mentality

& the poet who challenges 

us ….

musically

2nd spin

do your math

and add 

them multiples 

then begin again

My friends,

born of sin, ain’t stable 

but we keepin

notes and pens

raisin’ arms in victory—

you see

this is how we 

win

this 

is how

we win

Day 5

Great bonus for whoever comes across this....It's not been posted anywhere but here!  I wrote this on Easter, but never had a chance to post it.  But it has to count...c'mon, I'm workin' thangs out here! 

Day 5 4/5/26

The great 

Capitalist Holiday Compromise 

hadn’t been celebrated 

for several years

A #hand -off for 

holding mental health patients 

accountable

along with teens who thought 

Shark Tank & drop shipping

were viable career 

paths.

Yet here I sit

soul searching with 

young humans in 

facilities fitted for 

disorders associated with 

eating.

Happy Easter

Happy Capitalistic Holiday Compromise.

Day 4

ok, so I've been slackin'. i'll give you that. and this post will try and get us back on track. so if i hit you with like this and two others, don't be mad. this piece originally appeared on Bluesky for the #vss365 series. and bonus for you...you get both versions!!

First thought no lie

“These are the 

Days of Our Lives”

Yes I’m dated,

yes, I’m old.

I’m the generation 

w/plastic over 

the couch &

outside all day

drinkin’ from the hose

These greys will

get you one day, 

so pray–

like #sand through the 

hourglass

that your pass 

through this plane

will last as 

gracious & grand

as I have.

#vss365

______________

(version II)

First thought no lie

“These are the 

Days of Our Lives”

Yes I’m dated,

yes, I’m old.

The GenX

w/plastic over 

the couch &

outside drinkin’ 

from the hose

Greys will

get u 1day, 

so pray–

like #sand through the 

hourglass;

you pass 

through this plane

as

gracious & grand

as I have.

#vss365

 

Day 3 Choices

We got

choices,

Like carousels at 

carnivals

to be a carnivore

or not—

tying knots in 

intestines 

we test theories

with the best intentions 

hoping the end

ain’t a tent

under a bridge 

by the highway

Are the cars flying yet?

What was the number today?

You get that job yet,

take that trip overseas

see your dream take form

in the fashion 

of a finalized non profit or 

LLC?

When was the last time 

you saw he

or she?

Sea shells 

on sea shores…

Sometimes we don’t 

call for more,

it’s just cool to call

Freestyle poetry 

free to you,

& me 

as time was your 

currency spent,

cheaper than rent

or mortgage 

in the U.S or overseas—

going viral is cool

but I am still seen

In the neighborhood 

bar,

not far from

The Northside

or ATL

Questioning love, heaven

& hell…

on day 3…

    On Day 3….

jus….poetry

30 for 30 Day 2 #Pen

 4/2 number 2 #pen

More dominant than 

the thrust of a sword

More demanding than 

the moon at sunset

some write poetry

post Wednesday

with fine tipped #pen

and good intentions

Others stroke egos 

and line filthy bank accounts 

off the backs of the 

hardworking

The preferred tool 

of the power-hungry, the

persuasive prick

who gambles with the 

peoples pension,

with war crimes.

Fools perceive it 

as passionate patriotism

The riot in patriotism

forms lines at 

rallies, readily yielding to be 

imposed 

with the 

illusion of a demigod 

rather than

removing the pen

from grandpa’s 

palpitating hand.

Dissent rides high

in the street

Protestors and 

picket signs–

Frustration 

languished, and 

live streamed 

over border lines and 

border patrols

No caped crusader 

comes to save,

or salvage…

strayed and frayed 

freedom.

The people ponder 

how hard it is 

to pry the pen

from their so-

called 

cold, dead

hand~~