Poetry and art nourish the soul of the world with the flavor-filled substances of beauty, wisdom and truth.
A world without poetry and art would be too much like one without birds or flowers: bearable but a lot less enjoyable.
Love, Mercy, and Grace, sisters all, attend your wounds of silence and hope.
I place my fingers upon these keys typing 2,000 dreams per minute and naked of spirit dance forth my cosmic vortex upon this crucifix called language.
Millions of tears have fallen for black sons, brothers, lovers, and friends whose assailants took or maimed their lives and then simply went on their way.
Where humanity sowed faith, hope, and unity, joy’s garden blossomed.
A poet is a verb that blossoms light in gardens of dawn, or sometimes midnight.
Un-winged and naked, sorrow surrenders its crown to a throne called grace.
Quote words that affirm all men and women are your brothers and sisters.
Hearts rebuilt from hope resurrect dreams killed by hate.
Even when muddy your wings sparkle bright wonders that heal broken worlds.
Poetry, like jazz, is one of those dazzling diamonds of creative industry that help human beings make sense out of the comedies and tragedies that contextualize our lives.
With its leaves so rich and heavy with elation and its crimson face made brighter with visions of divinity the shadow of a certain rose looks just like an angel eating light.
Hope drowned in shadows emerges fiercely splendid–– boldly angelic.
At some point, a flash of sustained clarity reveals the difference between what someone would have you believe is true, and what you know from the depths of your own heart to the peaks of your soul to be true. What happens after that is up to you.
Before the thunderous clamor of political debate or war set loose in the world, love insisted on its promise for the possibility of human unity: between men and women, between blacks and whites, northerners and southerners, haves and have-have-nots, self and self.
The music of revelation announces itself to the reader in somber brooding tones or in melodies light as air and one is invited to dance with the most captivating of partners: poetry.
You are the hybrids of golden worlds and ages splendidly conceived.
The more sincere the soul, the heavier the cross endured.
Here are lips of flame eager to be extinguished by love’s liquid sigh.