I've been working diligently on some poetry focused on my family's history and 'Heritage' is what came from one old picture I found in my aunts closet. Enjoy!~ Check out my two poems in the San Diego Reader. Source: He dips down, a lion, drinking in her nectar
Category: poetry
Cotton in My Ears, Chains on My Feet
By M. Parrish Depression is heartless and anxiety is stone cold. Together they encase what little I’ve saved of myself and hide it away. Depression and anxiety—you’re fighting yourself and they know all your demons by name—anxiety gives them speed—they know just where to hit—how hard but they never stop hitting. They leave you malnourished […] … Continue reading Cotton in My Ears, Chains on My Feet
Single Thespian
Language ain’t shit When I was young I was told Not to look Not to speak Not to be Like them Those who do not speak The normal vernacular And what a word to use… Vernacular in three different spaces I’ve three different faces This kind of separation is not painless So when I went … Continue reading Single Thespian
Asystole
I saved your life. It was my fist punching through your thin brown skin and chemically straightened split ends Poking and pushing through your almost stagnant neurons, slow with reversed thought I looked around and saw too many webs to sweep So spilled gasoline, so flicked the match, so set it on fire I saved … Continue reading Asystole
Calling In Black
By M. Parrish Hands up! An ache above my ass for a century old curse against the name of my skin, Black. Shot up! Black, Black, Black, Black to blend into the night, to bleed back into the earth, to be invisible, but Black doesn’t work. STOP LOOKING AT ME! Hands up! Fists up! Shot […] … Continue reading Calling In Black
Liberty Spits Fire
"Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" - Emma Lazarus I have known rivers deep, shallow Filled with silt and debris Clouded by a doctrine, I can’t … Continue reading Liberty Spits Fire
New York Times Top 100
Passion is beautiful Magical success A genius formed from the clay of time A lie Passion is a ferocious abyss, skeleton teeth Hissing acid He is a Mass’a Cracking his whip high and low On naked back and thighs He flashes words behind my eyes like A broken stop light Rolling neon scriptures People spring … Continue reading New York Times Top 100