Bird-cherry juice angel energy devouring damn age insistence survival
frustration post-colonial future destiny ecstasy heavenly supplication
confessions injustice internal external solution hope forgiveness
stubbornness waves of emotion lyrical connotation light ray miracles
life puzzle mystery dialectic elite energy accessibility love disgust
disaster miracle giving each other solace Oprah united poverty
disdain disgust empathy salvation
Transmitter Part II
Loving life emotion that is rife with scars beauty solace river running through it
Brad Pitt celebrity marriage consumerism Hollywood dream machine
connected politician elected diverse dialectic my mom says don't give up
my sister says live it up racism sexism we survived haven't we? Interrogation
Iraq heart attack McDonald's documentary Eli colour fantasy reality I'm lovin' it
neo-liberalism big composition being undone on the run conclusions
poetry.com poetry in motion contest delivert defiance Malcolm X
Martin Luther King What is it? Spike Lee music movies love radiation
hurricane Katrina the awful ravages of racism, classism, sociology society
scientists numbers common sense observation truth vs. facts
interaction internet love dating the millenium circuitous Sexiness Madonna
power children's books complications interpretations destination
White Sands Island:
In The MALDIVES...
A Dock--not unlike the one Otis Redding sat on: Pondering
Doubts, In The Midst Of
Surrounded By The Waves...Sausalito...
In a place there's the Freezing of Time, Space, A Musical Snapshot,
Notes That Trigger A Photographic Memory...
Sitting on a Dock At The Bay,'Frisco, Wasting--
Cerulean Washing All Around Him...
Not unlike the same Shade, that was used
To Dye Denim...Indigo, symbol of
Plantation Oppression, Commerce, and African Culture...Dungarees then had a high price - Blood Money Oozing Rivulets Of Blue...African Livelihood, Ability, Now A Yoke - Gasping, Gasping...
But the scene looks so calm: Lady Cerulean takes a bow--
An Aquatic Kingdom..She - Takes - A Bow, but Then...It looks so peaceful, restful, serene, and Otis Redding must have felt that way - the only harmony that he could experience, while Racial Violence and Injustice Ravaged Its Way through America...Sitting On A Dock At The Bay, Wasting--But Was He?
Recording beauty yet melancholy with a voice, music, and a whistle...Contemplating his Future As A Black Man...I think, I wonder, the Scenic Scene Iridescent, Colours Intricate and Fine, not unlike the Fallout From Racism, The Riots, Detroit...Is Otis Also Thinking Of These Things? Indigo - Indigo - Slavery Encapsulated in a Violet-Blue...Why these thoughts? Looking at An Island in The Maldives, An Island of White, Sands Glowing, Running through your fingers, looking like White Gold...Island Of - The Tragedy with The Beauty, The Darkness With The Light, Is It Inescapable? I reach for the lid -