DRIED PAINT ~BY ANGELINA ROLSTON
He clings to his rusty wheelchair,
As he clings to his dirty brushes.
Poems
“I” ~BY ANGELINA ROLSTON
A rose will bloom,
A child is born,
While they leave their mother’s womb.
I WAS THE LAST WORD ~BY ANGELINA ROLSTON
As you inhaled your final breath,
no longer clinging to health,
you spoke a vivid memory of me
DEMON’S DEN ~BY POETICIA
Do you remember me from your dreams?
Silent grips on the back of your neck
YOU CHOSE COLD, I CHOSE CLOSURE ~BY KERRY OKEYO
Once I was the quiet flame,
Burning for a name never called.
THE FALLEN KNIGHT ~BY TESS MARIA BINU
Who would have thought, he would be a fallen knight,
BECAUSE I COULD NOT STOP FOR DEATH ~BY EMILY DICKINSON
The Chariot [ Because I could not stop for Death ]
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
IF ~BY RUDYARD KIPLING
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
INCIDENT ~BY COUNTEE CULLEN
INCIDENT Once riding in old Baltimore,Heart-filled, head-filled with glee;I saw a BaltimoreanKeep looking straight at me. Now I was eight and very small,And he was no whit bigger,And so I smiled, but he poked outHis tongue, and called me, “Nigger.” I saw the whole of BaltimoreFrom May until December;Of all the things that happened thereThat’s…