Blessings Fam! Thank you, editors of Midway Journal, for publishing my poem, “A Completed Work.” I hope this brings reflection.
#MiDWaYjournal #brokensleepbooks #spaldingmfa #amwriting #poetrylife #poetry #poet #StickHookandaPileofYarn
midwayjournal.com/a-completed-...
@bsky.app Blessings Fam! Thank you, editors of Midway Journal, for publishing my poem, “A Completed Work.” I hope this brings reflection
#MiDWaYjournal #brokensleepbooks #spaldingmfa #amwriting #poetrylife #poetry #poet #StickHookandaPileofYarn
midwayjournal.com/a-completed-...
Hallo! Giving thanks to the editors of Frazzled Lit, out of Ireland, for publishing my pantoum poem, “My Mind Channels,” in Issue 4 of their journal.
#frazzledlit #brokensleepbooks #spaldingmfa #amwriting #poetrylife #poetry #poet #StickHookandaPileofYarn
www.frazzledlit.com/p/my-mind-ch...
Blessings! I want to give thanks to the editors of Neologism Poetry Journal, Issue #102, for publishing my poem “Our Eclipse of Sunset.”
#NeologismPoetry #brokensleepbooks #spaldingmfa #amwriting #poetrylife #poetry #poet #StickHookandaPileofYarn
@highlight
www.neologismpoetry.com/November-202...
If We Remember In a South London elderly home, the residents had finished their midday meal, now marionettes with strings unstressed, sunken into each puffed red lazy chair around the room. Our uncle was wide-eyed, shifting in his ninety-seventh loop around the sun. His now and memories are dancing, fleeting memories selfish for attention in his mind. Then, I shifted time selfishly, the marionettes latched me to a summer between college years, working with my mum, watching her with seasoned residents, a lead bee swiftly hopping within a hive, bringing care, communicating, coaxing, carrying those with frail tree branches, frames waving in the wind. The sound of the domino box ting on the table, jolted me back with our uncle, his eyes shining as I swirled the domino cards, as we Jamaicans called them. Touching the dominoes, uncle was tethered to this instant, seventies Abba songs filling the room from the television blending with domino card clacks, the staccato coughs and moans from those in their time-locked slumber around us, great-uncle, niece, great-nephew gathered around a serving table, being present, taking videos to slow down the string of time racing through fingers, holding on to the moment he said domino.
I am thankful to the editors of Loud Coffee Press for publishing this poem, “If We Remember.”
Link: (Page 8)
www.loudcoffeepress.com/lcp-issue-20
#loudcoffeepress #brokensleepbooks #spaldingmfa #amwriting #poetrylife #poetry #poet #StickHookandaPileofYarn
In the kaleidoscope of autumn leaves Mervyn Seivwright I look for light, the harmonizing glow, the fiery feeling, yet the leaves flash to brittle browning more hastily this year. I wish to greet each set of eyes locked with my energy this day, the gift of breath seems an embrace enough with icons falling as age-old oak trees once on fertile, now gritty frail ground. I need to be the lighthouse, the fog thicker, the rocks sharper, the sea, an unrestricted unrest. I seek to be a space, listening, tender bliss enough for that moment, cheerfulness harvests a smile in return and even when it’s too cold to snow joyful tears can still warm cheeks to chin. If I could crack the egg layers of anxiety we hyper sow from the ones and zeroes slinging our eyes across screen projecting successive voices in an alley cat yard peeling skin from each end of the compass, I could be the sun, a torch for the heart of shared accepted teddy bear hugs, forest green moss breathing life in lungs, be the instant when hope encompasses us. I would know when the shadows compress with darkening cracks, a pinhole of acute light would find a way.
Hi #BlueSky!
Sharing a #poem just #published about my way to move forward in this social #climate. “In the kaleidoscope of autumn leaves.”
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#thebrokenspine #brokensleepbooks #spaldingmfa #amwriting #poetrylife #poetry #poet #StickHookandaPileofYarn
Blessings #Blueesky! Today, I share my first publication of the year from the editors of The Basilisk Tree, my poem, “My Echoed Instants.
#Basilisktree #brokensleepbooks #spaldingmfa #amwriting #poetrylife #poetry #poet #StickHookandaPileofYarn #poetrylife
basilisktree.com/-v3i1-mervyn...
Manhood's Gambit We do not choose the parents who birthed us. My father asked me if I wanted to stay in England. His voice echoed between mountains with great canyons, fading, remembering his face from two pictures, hardly, remembering the Cadbury Chocolate Roses, the aftertaste. No loving calls, nor weekly, monthly visits recalled ever. No proclivity for me to be rooted to his tree or spring buds. My stepfather was presence, postured to parent us with anger instead of teaching math, football, manhood. Feeling empty for a patriarch-guide, providing stories of life. My mummy scraping for our emotional needs; his loving touch missing, given to glasses of stiff drink. My adolescence welcomed advisement from a man, arms wide, my friend’s father, pseudo-father role teaching me the mechanics of cars, life, to touch a woman with respect, kind voice, a smile, willing to laugh with sincere heart. I played the three-shell game, guessing after a green pea, finding stale affinity in these fathers, strangers, to explain my hairs growing, leaving reeking odors when not cared for—my teenage feelings, my unraveling when seized on by riotous peers, those tempting serpents that a father or real male mentor could have deflected.
QR code to my book
The cover to my book Stick, Hook, and a Pile of Yarn with a Chameleon on cover.
Blessings #Bluesky.
I am sharing a feature #poem published by #AGNI, from my collection, Stick, Hook, and a Pile of Yarn. Part of my #poetry journal.
#brokensleepbooks #poetrycommunity #amwriting
#stickhookandapileofyarn
Raggedy Rusted Fifteen-Year Old Red Car How many young black men should be on their knees each night? Outside our window in a suburban neighborhood, a sea of middle to upper class fenced homes see a red car. Two o’clock in the morning, a raggedy rusted fifteen-year old car is revving in our neighborhood with four black men waking good white folks. This neighborhood, with only two black families. How many young black men should be on their knees each night? One raggedy rusted fifteen-year old red car with four black men; red and blue lights, a single siren rings from three saving sheriff department cars, surrounding them, demanding the four black men out of the car with hands interlocked behind their head and dropping to their knees. Raggedy Rusted Fifteen-Year Old Red Car How many young black men should be on their knees each night? Late night concert ends during rare Floridian cold night finds us stopping in an upscale suburban neighborhood to warm up this raggedy rusted fifteen-year old red car. Just traveling home, delayed by red and blue lights, single siren ring from three surrounding police cars. Would I ever get home this night? Flashlights bright enough to blur faces, voices demanding us out the raggedy rusted fifteen-year old red car with arms raised, palms showing, fingers interlocked, screaming BOY in our ears, pushing us hard to knees, scraping pants to drips of blood, smelling road oil, grit in my mouth. My praying position seeking deliverance
Blessings sharing a #poem from my collection, "Stick, Hook, and a Pile of Yarn."
#poetry #blacksky
#bluesky #stickhookandapileofyarn #poetrycommunity
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