Which (originally written 10/30/14)

I'm on the edge, looking down
Up to the sky or down to the ground
Because I'm one more weight from falling
And I'm one less weight from flying
Mama says to just spread my wings
But gravity pulls down everything
Straight faced, but I'm one more tear from crying
I'm just one more joke to smiling
It's easy for me to pretend
That I can make it to the very end
But I'm one more hope to winning
One more choke to beginning
The end
I could be a sail or an anchor
So which way will it be?

E-Feelings (originally written 7/5/14)

I'm just a few words on your smartphone screen
Good for a few laughs
Something like a dream
No, more like an illusion
Trying to talk myself out of this confusion
That my mind seems to create
Every time I see a picture of your face
And the sad thing is
I'm not naive
I wholeheartedly don't believe
In this fantastic happy place
That I have built
So I'm waiting fro the wrecking crew of reality
To tear this bitch down
Because unfortunately
I don't have the heart.

Maya

It’s crazy to me

How your words are my concrete

A foundation on which I can build my story

Yet my words

Became useless when I got the news

You leaving this world

Knocked my world off its axis

Reduced to sitting silently in disbelief

While time passed indifferently around me

Warning of my potential lateness to work

Although I vehemently assert

That you are the reason I write poetry

Your prose drew me

Excerpts in school textbooks

Pointed me to the library

To check out every book I could find

That told of your life

My girlish eyes grew bright

From documentation of life

Of love

Of empowerment

You taught me that everyone had a story

And everyone’s stories are important

My story is important

Who better to write it but me?

I wore all black to work today

Like my own mother, grandmother or aunt

I never thought you’d leave

We always think our parents and elders are immortal

Your words may ease the pain

Your immortal legacy remains

I never met you

But your words and ideas knew me

They spoke to me

Spoke of what I am and could become

Only one

Regret that I have

Is this might be poetic injustice

I am thankful for your life

I am thankful for your love

I am thankful for your words

I am thankful for your wisdom

Mostly I am thankful for you

Mirror

My glasses are hipster
My hips stir
Conversation
With I do that do that that there
My eyes may be small
But they don't miss much
Nah I'm not pretty
I don't want to turn heads
I am not sure I want to be
THAT girl
I'd rather turn minds
Turn thoughts
A mirror can break
But ideas
Are stronger that glass

Toma's Bucket List

I have never been one
For a list of bucket
More likely to say fuck it
And live my own dreams
If I make enough daily lists
And wish upon wish
I will have lived my purpose
By that one Judgment Day
Thoughts constantly fill my brain
Like the smell of wetness after rain
And sometimes I don't have the privilege
Of writing everything down
But friends often come around
And make you rethink things
My bucket list is simple
I'd just like to live before I die
Full of passion and compassion
To not hesitate to try
Live my own life as my own woman
Fall in love one good time
To travel this whole wide world
To always defend what is mine
I think that sums it all up
The rest isn't up to me
Above all when I meet the Creator
I should be satisfied to have lived faithfully free

Poet-ing

Poet-ing

Is now a thing

My thing

So watch me bring

My thing

Doing my poet thing

With the poet-ting

Alas I’m a woman

So I’m poetess-ing

Make these words sing

With the rhythm of my life

Beat the drum

With the cacophony of injustice

My compassionate minds fails to fathom

Random

Like the dots I connect

To be correct

As a poet.

I could easily bore

You with simile and metaphor

Just for the sake of rhyme

To take time

Just to razzle and dazzle

But I turned the tassel

To graduate

I shall commence to serious poet-ing

Transcribing my human experience

Drawing parallel lines

And giving fines

To those who don’t pay attention

Wake up world!

Earth is turning beneath you!

As the seasons pass, so will you.

Poet-ing

Is the poet-thing

That gives me life

On this side of heaven

After my last breath

So I shall write to my death

Knowing these characters

Convey my substance

My passion

Compassion, belief and love

Poet-ing

Not just an arbitrary verb

But a purposeful lifestyle.

Chicago