home.
a bonus poem for the series Kameron
ink in my veins, i been lappin’ the page ink in my veins, i been pressin’ the pain till the pressure is done syntax stretchin’ the sentence till texture is spun every letter a lever i pull just- for the expectation to measure the sun mama read every poem i press into print every sentence i send she inspectin’ the sense sayin’ “baby, this your best one yet” with a proud grin like she sensed from the genesis beginning of the blessing within i been searchin’ this surge since the nerves of a kid when the words in the margins was the work that i hid now the purpose emerged and the verse finally fits like the first time your worth and your worship coexist sometimes i ride through the side where the signs used to fade just to sit in the chair where the lineups get shaved barber laugh, clippers chatter, conversation behave like the cadence of cousins who remember your name money different now — livin’ where the ceilings look vast glass in the windows, reflections of rivers that pass but the feeling get distant in the shimmer of class so i double back driftin’ where the memories last it smell like shea butter drifting through summer air scratch-off dust on the counter by the corner store stairs like rudy’s fried chicken in a grease-painted glare and the windows of an accord fogged from love in the rear feel like the love of my life in the hush of a room when the rush of her blush make the dust in me bloom like the moment her fingers fit the trust of a groom and the future feel sudden as the touch of “i do” birthday pull up where my granny once lived old frame house where the laughter once hid sold it off years ago but the passion still did have me back with a camera tryin’ to capture the kid snappin’ pictures of the porch where the stories would start where the mornings smelled like biscuits and the glory of God then a voice from the yard cut the warmth with a spark sayin’ “who is you, boy?” with a tool in the dark hand on the handle, the metal was aimed like the memory itself had been settled and claimed ten years gone and the texture done changed now the past got a password and a weapon for names stood frozen a second while the questions took shape how a place that once raised you erase you with hate how the frame of a home can be claimed by a gate so i drove off slow with the thought in my chest all the laps that i ran had me lost in the quest i thought the crown meant arrival but honestly— yet… i’m still searchin’ for the feelin’ of home.
The flow is immaculate! Happy to be back here and reading your work 👏
this one sat with me. home is a feeling you keep chasing 🖤