Two Poems By Colin Thomas


We go now then, the five of us
Across the path stretched out across the green plain
Like a quilt-work blanket spread out for a picnic
We go now, through skies of gulls, and warm summer gusts
And quiet lusts
Past the shrill timbre of cellphones, and haptic feedback
And past team meetings, and Lunch and Learns; In pursuit
Of Serene Intent
With a question of why can’t you Dad, why can’t you Mom take
Time, and time to take now
We go now, we take now, we take now

Out in the big sky that can swallow you whole
We listen to the loud silence with our soul

With our chests full of light, beaming in
cheer and laughter we walk along the path,
with grit and mud, the baby chirps and birds
chirp, and wide-eyed and gleaming,
wonder twirls in her eyes like an
ever-changing kaleidoscope
Being newly created in each blink,
a folding beauty upon itself
And upon itself, dazzling and free
as neurons fire in synchronicity weaving
great webs of delight, I watch the delight and
in a moment, upon a moment
I am young again seeing it again and
a twinkling universe rises in my watery eye,
my hand holding hers as she looks up
To me

“Bird Song, Daddy!”

The Sun bakes us like shriveled dates
ripe with spirit and candy flesh
Our sandals scruff across the path in
metered cacophony like John Cage
Playing the beach path in discordant
swishes and tweaks, bonks, and bleeps
Up the hill, on the left a break in the path
yields an archaic sign with symbology that
Would make the Illuminati blush,
warnings of this and that but harkening to
Respect this fragile world, this fragile minute
with sweat running down our backs
And our children talking about
little hopes of dancing waves,
this chrysalis in time
Becoming a memory in their wide minds,
unfolding iridescent wings to stiffen in the open air
And give way to a flight on wind buffets
to dance merrily along future horizons

On the beach, bones of dead trees,
Bleached and dyed, their skeletal fingers
Playing in the surf, a Rhapsody in Blue
Flocks of gulls, sinuous and lithe,
float down the coast, patterns of
Organic energy (Wu Li) pulsing in tune to the
sky, moon, and earth
With the swaying fronds of the palmetto trees,
perfectly in unison, from the Conductor’s
Unseen hand

Categorized as poems

Fall’s Eve// {Natte = North Charleston} By Matthew (Tyler) Mccray

On the last day of summer, man, 1991

He was here/ Introducing Carolina’s rightful son/

Through the tears city shaking

Natte know they finally won

For whats to come

Many obstacles/

To prove that he’s the one/

Put him in the jungle/

Make the baby show us that he worth it/

Battle at the bottom

Make him fight and claw up to the surface

Make him mortal

Take his gifts

And put the power in his purpose/

Kill the truth/ until he search it/

Put the shame in all his choices

Stand strong as we stay hopeless

For the day/ that we Rejoice is/

When the visions at its peak/

When the visions fully focused/

When King and crown shall meet

Until then….

Vision Distorted/

Categorized as poems

“Breaths Rolling On The Shore” By David Mcclure

Slow breath in and slow breath out.
The sound it makes brings to mind;
The sound that waves make rolling on the shore.
For the sound it makes
Sets my heart at ease;
Calming me down and filling me with peace.

Categorized as poems

A poem by Sabrina

*We will never understand God’s plan,
we’re not ment too because it’s out of our hands.
*But before you leave today,
take a minute to hear our eulogy
*In everything we were going to be, unknowingly,
I craved the day that you destroy me,
*With all the petty games I played,
And all the hateful things you say’ed
*How could love treat us this way?
or grow the balls to up and walk away!
* But hey………………………….
*silly me……………………….……
*because now I see how its turned out to be.
* Though, just as the moon waxes and wanes
none of this pain is ill gotten gains…
*The drugs took the emotions away,
dam near rid them from us every day,
*As it despensed our reality in spurts
the ultimate divert is what caused our hurt to invert!
* But you never seen it coming….for I was taking all the blows,
Without weary remarks, while we stuffed our nose!
* and its ok, If you want to walk away,
just leave me with our debt to pay… I wouldnt have it any other way.
* The lessons you’ve taught me baby, are rarely sought,
unfortunately… for me, they were bought.
* I’ll cry as you leave with snot on my sleeve, Tho I soon will admit,
Im tired of your shit And for you to just leave, is somthing i need!
* Eventually, when all my pieces retract,
I will pray to God for you back.
*With the debth of the damage still yet to be known,
unprepared and unaware of the web that we’ve sewn
*My heart shoots pains deep down in my bones.
Still you’re the one who condones my moans’,
* Anyway,…. You’re ride’s here to take you away,…..
And it’s ok …….
There isn’t much of me left anyway.
Have a good day……….

Categorized as poems

“Noah” By Matthew Mccray

I wonder; how Noah must’ve felt for those 40 nights

40 foot waves crashing in.. with no help in site

I wonder how it felt when the rain kept pouring down

Wonder how they felt when he left them em all…. on the ground

Was he a visionary;? Doing God’s work for Better man

Or was he the monster carrying out a vindictive plan

I wonder for Noah’s life who was the scribe

I wonder when I die; Will they do the same for I

Forget the flaws, write my legacy in awe

Like aw man he wasn’t just another man

With a choice; with a voice; Like he didn’t rejoice

every sun he saw those forty nights

What if my legacy goes the same way

I hope the book of me,inspires your inner rage

Will your Arc end above the waves


Would you have drowned

Saving all ….. before you sailed away

Turn the page

Choose your own way.. Nephew..

Categorized as poems

“No Mystery” By Mindwater

let me down easy
into the slender morning perfect

catch my ripples with a telescope/
a photograph of pastfuture

that everlasting fleeting goodbye
ringing in my favorite sunglasses
keeps me coming back
to the spot where we
forgot about Jupiter falling

there’s no mystery
in the moon’s jaws

there’s no shining
language unlocking
your window breeze

just let me down
into every cool crystal moment

Categorized as poems

“Immegration” By Francisco Douglass

Without immigration you wouldn’t have me
and I’m a pretty cool dude
whether or not you agree—

yea I’m US born
but take a look at my family tree,
the make up of a Puerto Rican has a spectrum of values and saturation’s that run deep- rich.
found out I have Egyptian roots
makes sense, cuz I like Egyptian food.
nah, ain’t gonna start reppin’ Arabs,
Puerto Rican all day, with coquito in hand.

yes, I love diversity in my city
well, what it could be—
Charleston thinks that
black-n-white are colors
yet, there’s something missing—

Fractals of HD like iPhone backgrounds
Vivid images, faces, hues of divine fingerprints
Like God painted with His finger these immigrants
using clay, mahogany
cherry wood, brown sugar.
Terra-cotta red tints and red tones
red notes, red shades and tanned overlays

you know like the tannins of wine skinned keepers we hold the beauty of those kissed
by the sun
caramel baby and bronze—
coffee, black teas.


without it you wouldn’t have me

Categorized as poems

“They” by C Ward

In the shadows
of the morning
he and she did look
each upon the other
face to face
love to love
fingers tracing cheeks.

he whispered
aching for her alone
-there was none besides her
she was she

she traced her fingers
along the shadowed creases
of his jaw and chin
‘my beloved’
as into him

she melted.

eyes to eyes
finger tips to finger tips
each the other
each the other

Categorized as poems

“Remember” By Jamela M.

Don’t you remember why I made u smile
Don’t you remember how I made you feel when you felt like no one had your back
Please remember I’m just stating facts
Do you remember my kisses
My hands placed on your face
In my heart for you nothing but love and your grace
Sometimes I wish I didn’t remember

Categorized as poems

A Monologue By Stormy Williams

The father-

He is the first man a girl learns to love. He protects and holds his daughter from hurt and pain, but what if he is the source of her pain. The restless night she lays awake wondering if in his befuddled state will he yell at her worse. School days she covers the scars, but what about the words, what about the internal scars. She seeks numbness in older boys longing to escape the pain of the source. School days she hears the whispers and she sees the looks, she gives it all up. If only he had protected her instead of being the source of her pain. Maybe that girl would be alive today.

Categorized as poems