10 Odd Truths

I was loved once.

Held close and tight

Heard all the rhythms of my mother’s heart

The ebbs of her life

The flows of her infinite embrace

And I was loved

Enclosed in a symphony of warmth

Wrapped up in the feelings family saves for special days

And this thing called love belonged to me.


I find myself searching old hallways and corridors now

Searching for that which belonged to me

Finding other things I mistake for it along the way

My quest for love leads me to dungeons.

Flanked by other men, questing for the same


And so I come to find myself rising at 4am

Untangling myself from the four limbs that kept me bound

Brown braided man

I am women in the street crying to be heard over the parade of lunatics

Mothers in windows peaking through blinds

Half open curtains

Shades and cloth

Junkies dancing on coke cans

Black children looking at ceilings

Sinners shaking the jook joint

Ministers on soap boxes


I am lost.

Clinging to a torn up piece of something I found in my pocket

Put there long ago for safe keeping

A little note I wrote to myself

White paper with just four words:

“They will hunt us”


My reflection in the mirror tells me 10 odd truths:

1. The lines on my face are dried tear trails

2. Not all weapons are seen

3. Black is a nation

4. Sometimes backs become bridges to salvation for all but their owners

5. A long time ago I killed that small boy crying to understand

6. Mother’s hands were hard from work

7. The sun’s emerging glow is ironic in this room

8. Being gay is a metaphysical dilemma I have not even begun to understand

9.You can spend all you life waiting for a stranger to be the man who will leave marks as you miss the familiar face doing the same


10. I was loved once.

11 thoughts on “10 Odd Truths

  1. Ah. Beautiful.
    You had me at the first stanza, “Enclosed in a symphony of warmth//Wrapped up in the feelings families save for special days.”

  2. made me cry real tears. i love you soooooo much. you are seriously a brilliant poet. i am going to read your poems in a published book and some young man is going to carry them around the way you carry that book of poems around. i swear.

  3. “Being gay is a metaphysical dilemma I have not even begun to understand.”

    And let the Church say AMEN.

    And yet, the truth is, IF I were able to *choose* my sexual orientation, AND gender, today…..I would *choose* to be a Gay Black female, with all the complexities and Beauty of such a life.

    The entire post is but another stellar example of your incredible talent!

    And so…keep writing and I’ll keep reading.

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