Just Keep Smiling

I. Burnout

I’m going to:
Wake up every morning smirking,
When I see my eyes from overworking.
’Cause my white-collar nine to five,
Has put me into fucking overdrive.

Then I’ll:
Do the dishes and make black coffee,
Pay my taxes and do the laundry.
’Cause I love this culture conformity,
God bless American society.

Driving down the I-94,
Empty bottles rattle on the floor,
In my wife’s white Ford Explorer,
When ahead… to my horror —

Was walking barefoot to the corner store
Cherry popsicles melting
down our arms. Staining
our denim shorts and our mouths
Hot, sticky, and bright red.

Sharing a tube of cherry lip gloss and giggling
at the high school boys who honk at us from
their pickup trucks, hanging
out of the windows like dogs,
drooling and panting.
The burning
July sun. Long hair sticking
to our tanned skin.

I salivate at the scent
of my great evergreen,
Tall and embraced
by the spring breeze

Their sap sparkles
in the sunlight,
begging for a taste
Sticky amber on my finger

Insects zip by my ear
with a loud bzzt
I put my finger in my mouth,
subtle sugar on my tongue

Beckoned by the call
of my grandmother’s
caffeinated tone
from the backyard

Newly sprouted greenery
It tastes like, smells
like mint, like Earth
Insects zip by my ear with a loud bzzt

It’s my turn
I step into a room, a dull white
I watch my brother on that bed
one channel then another
wires drape from his arm
I know white, we
know white, but not this shade
the white of our porch in the night
illuminating the grass it stood from
we run, chasing little sparkles
our hands becoming cages
for those tiny bugs of glow
the white of innocent and ignorance
From that bed
he turns his head looking up at me
I catch a glimpse of that white
The yellow would fly from our palms

I carry too many postage stamps with me—
everywhere I go, I have no regret of it
There could be a chance I stumble upon a post office
and I could write to you every time I do,
even with you right beside me
Intertwined in ink and evergreen’s sacrifice,
words could never dry up in my bleeding heart;
poised and pounding exclusively for you
I would pull out my ribcage and necessary bones
just to makeshift you a mailbox for my prose

I spend militant amounts of time
gnashing my inner-chimp to
Justify
Entrails sit in languid writing
Stuffed mindly, biding
Exceeding my own alchemy

Plaque upon the joints
Disjointed by
A lack of puppeteer
Spindle binded tightly
Nightly walking
waking with Head
inside the sink

Pore pretty girl
Hyena’s
Solo-raised girl
Woman by seven
Spread throughout the room

My mask falters
I am so aggravated
by tedious folds in my
mutant Birth

No Bible of yellow stars
could befit this tall order
I pander in this
shed-skin Bed

Steal weather from the
forecast
doppler tells me I am a
Typecast

Invisibility
a strange equine
at the petting zoo
Striped

Binary thought-maps
Trot twice
if you’re ready for the
Show

You make an excellently
melancholy Ball Buster
plead with Laughing eyes
through gash and gnashing

you didn’t hear our cries you didn’t see our dead you didn’t feel our pain

yet you hear our guns yet you see our rage yet you feel their pain

our homes destroyed our food wasted
our water tainted our women raped our children dead our men slaughtered

yet they cry out the wrong name free israel
free israel
free israel from what

dilute.
to make it thinner or weaker to make it digestible
dilute.
to make me thinner or weaker i want to be digestible

i look like a fool holding a diluted heart out to the masses begging for someone to consume me
but when they do, they never finish
they mustn’t spoil their appetite they tell me they’ve barely taken three bites.

How could one write about spring
without flirting with beehives
and sunburnt boys who makeout
with beer cans and raven eyed girls

Spring poems don’t exist
if you can’t rhyme sun
with sultry swim suits
that we bought on sale

When December’s pessimism was present
in our christmas letters and batter mixed with
too much egg and not enough eye contact

Y’know, the polka dotted suits sliced into two?
Yes! Those ones! The ones we slid into after school

A stranger’s eyes
dance with mine
as I’m handing him his cash.
But he and his ripped-back pocket
leave before we can exchange numbers.
Before ever getting to say “Hello”.
And like the arrival of time,
he comes as quickly as he goes.
My weary eyes follow him
as he exits through automatic doors
disappearing forever
leaving me behind with a curious heart.
And that’s how life is now.
My eyes dance with a worthy component
but never touching.
People making sure to stay
six feet apart from love,

In the lens of memories.
In Diaspora Palestine,
A photograph reveals-
An uncle with figs
and grapes in his gentle hands.
Amidst an orchard 53 years old.
Blooming with love-

Watered by tears,
of family labor,
in orchard cultivation-
under the sun's warm glow.
It was a haven, a cherished land.

But beyond the lens,
In life’s twisted fate.

By the force of a bomb.
In a land oppressed by those
who believe it’s their right,

Sitting alone with lingering thoughts keeping me company
and a restless feeling that plagues my core.
Springing alive only to torture me.
Drowning my heart in its fluid,
ringing in my ears
till I’m deaf with its sound
and leaves me numb with nothing but
my thoughts and this cursed feeling.
I try to drown it out, plugging tunes in my eardrums.
Getting lost in the melodies but somehow
it finds its way back into my soul.
I try blinding my eyes to its presence
and yet when I wake, it's all that I can see,

Hands.
Brown hands.
Gigantic hands.
Hands that made words fly.
Hands that made the earth quiver in fear
yet, so soft they eased my pain.
And gently carried me like the moon in the sky.
Hands that rocked me to the rhythm of his heart.
Hands that soothed dancing nerves
and comforted a restless mind.
Hands that watched stubby little legs
dance in green fields.
Hands that were stained with joy
and wiped lonely crumbs from a crooked smile,
but continued to eat anyways.
Hands that tanned in the sun

It calls for me, like the moon calling out to the night.
Like the wind howling for the leaves to dance to its every command. Obedient.
I feel its crooked breath as it clings to my neck.
Plaguing my mind as my eyes begin to fade.
Falling slowly into its poisonous hymns.
I can feel the noose tighten as it wraps around my neck, and I begin
to remember the little girl, bearing her trophy.
I try hard to resist. Remembering what it feels like to smile.
The sun kissed my brown skin.
The gentle wind pecks my cheeks till I chuckled.

I’ve got strings in my hands and a mask on my face like Covid 19
All this shit going on, gotta self-quarantine till I get it together
I’m spiraling out of control
I'm tethered to us,
tethered to love,
emotions like drugs
The hardest pill to swallow is I'm addicted
I need it, without you, I'm livid
reliving my worst decisions

I’m 21 years young, but I know more than I should about hard times.
My clock was built with the same sticks and stones that broke my spine.
I long peace of mind. This is a moment in time I desperately need it.
How do I find peace of mind when my mind is in pieces?

They paved a whole section
of road outside my apartment
in less than a day.
I am grateful,
but I am not fooled.

Black is my afro
Black is my grandma’s sweet tea
Black is my Nina
Black is the past
My ancestors were called Negros
Black is reminding whites that they cant say Nigga
In 2023
And them acting triggered
Black is pain
But black is beauty and gain
Breaking the chains
Black is my change
Black is my Usains
Speaking of running
They wonder why we run
When we are
Judged by 5-0 because our skin
Being treated differently because of our
Oppressors sins
Staring at the ocean

Run from America
Hide from the Shooters
Fight the Government
Losing count
Thinking of all the rounds
They fire
Into the classrooms
Kids not knowing
Their typical Monday will be filled with doom
So many lives lost by senseless shooters
I can name a few
Nikolas Cruz
Seung-Hui Cho
Adam Lanza
Schools telling you to
Run from Cruz
Hide from Cho
Fight Lanza
How?
When the sounds of bullets are flying
Hearts are racing
Schools used to be a safe haven

As the Waves roar
You can’t drown out my voice
Working your 9-5
But I’m what’s on your mind
Fall deeper
I’m singing your song
Greek mythology
Turned into real life
Sitting by the waters
Luring you in
Come closer
Pushed by love and sin
This will be an experience
The depths of my mental
Or the waves
Which one will drown you?
My shyness but my confidence
Will be sure to confuse you
So slip beneath the waves
Where you’ll be swept up
By my sweet curse

My body, a slave to a pipe that births nothing but sweet lies.
I inhale her perfume till my dreams and reality are one and the same.
Injecting myself into false promises.
Breathing in lies till my lungs recognize what's real.
Maybe get full off television till I’m drunk with fiction.
But my eyes want more.
They crave an instant fix.
My body desires anything that takes the pain away.
Slays reality.
So I consume more lies.
With each ounce, my stomach grows and my lungs beg for more.
I am what I eat.

Hands. Extending. Anticipating.
Like the sun ready to kiss the moon.
Like the stars beckoning to dance with the sky.
Though night is destined to come,
my hands rise to the sun, knowing they'll be touched.
My heart growls.
Wanting to devour the sweet taste of life.
Savor the crisp of its bite and the warmth of its broth.
But nothing comes.
No stars dance across the bare sky.
No sun warms the cheeks of the moon.
And my hands continue to reach for its savior,
but the sky seems farther away.

Poems about Love and the Lack Thereof
Babe
I’m falling for you
Like a narcoleptic
Down a flight of stairs
Like a dog seizing
From too many stab wounds
I froth at the mouth and quake
Only for your lovin’s sake

Shoot me up one last time
Tap the twisted vein
That starts at my heart
And drowns my bleedin’ brain

Enough of those stupid romance words
You stole from a dime store shelf
Love me in sum
And save up your ten cent plagiarisms
For my downpour

My
brown eyes
glow in wonder
at this porcelain beauty.
I run
stubby fingers across
her tiny frame.
Admiring the
porcelain beauty
before my
big eyes.
And I smile
ear to ear.
Her swirling curls
dancing like stars on a quiet night.
Landing softly.
Each strand
wondrously
made her more beautiful.
Frazzled
dark coils never seem to take light.
Foolishly,
they’re no stranger to me.
No freckle on her powdered face.
No frivolous lines