Fresh Squeezed

E.R. Smith, 2018

Assaulted by youngsters in backpacks.

Backing in to unaccomodating spaces

Parents, glaring staring, shut your yap

Say nothing to my young, I’ll kill your village,

Don’t dare groom mine, they’re not fresh!

Polite is un-relevant, we’re here to pillage

Sharpened elbows at my sides, as you swipe

Focused squeezing, communicating with dark net

Grey heads shake at brute, who continues to type

Transit,  precarious microcosm of disdain

Populace on edge, shoving humanity

Bus and Train rumbles as brains drain

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mad graffiti

 

 

E. R. Smith, 2018

Throwed up the sour crux of the matter

Call me vandal, huh? Where’s your plan for me?

Infrastructure F–Ked up since my pop’s feet pattered

Demographics show me last on the list….maybe, we’ll see..

 

This battered wall, reminds of  vivid existence

Slapped woke, retaliating for unprovoked focused pain

This passive palette, path of least resistance

Styling a marching movement, more than for ihe slain

 

World  peep gifts possible in all!  Nourish satiate the multitudes

Burning bombs on the wall bleed, crimes of exclusion

Artists fists lash out; violent pigments glow, unchecked attitudes

Opportunities for the red blood born,  won’t suffer occlusion

 

 

 

Tea and Crackers Interrogation Method

E. R. Smith 2018

Tea and crackers my mother’s secret weapon to weaken our defenses.  We sipped Lipton,  and let loose a mouthful, fears, worried tears, confessions.  We sat in Big Chair in mom’s room.  Big Chair was mom’s ally; worn soft perfection.  Sit and spill.  As soon as she came in from school; mom called, ‘Lizzy you want tea?’  Mom knew something, but what?  She’d been careful to park her backpack in her bedroom chair, “as a habit so I don’t forget anything for school” , she told mom.  Oh…she wondered if her mom would check her backpack?  No, maybe not.  Hope Ms. Bee wasn’t over gossiping and confusing everyone’s business with her own.

Mom brought the tea and crackers straight into her room.  She didn’t ask if I wanted to follow her.  Everything is fine, follow, breathe, sit in Big.  “Did you hear that girl with the blond streaks is pregnant?  ‘Yep, Ms. Bee. ‘ “No, Ma I  didn’t know.”  ‘Wasn’t she your friend?’  “In elementary ma, that was years ago.”  Mom moves on.  How’d you do in school today?  I froze a bit.  “It was good.”  Did mom get a call from school?  The phone rings.  Joey picks it up, “Mom it’s for you.”  I sip tea, and press lips closed to swallow.  Snuggling in Big…  Practice keeping your own counsel, scolds my teen brain.  I can hear silly giggles; mom’s talking to Titi June.  Well, it won’t be long now. More probing after chats done.  I nibble a cracker and decide to fess up…

I tell you mom and her tea…nothing gets past them.

On the Birth of This Day

E.R. Smith 2018

Crack the Dawn shows me a mosaic

Almost a tapestry, the edges fray with light dust

A symphony of a life lived, striving strong, algebraic

Dense thick stubborn reaching fibers

Indomitable pattern; organic thread follows ancients

Linking from past weaving designers

Etching an art for present time; keeping relevant

Intricate paths sewn; with no apology

Dawn’ brings a bright appreciating testament

The Shape of a Woman

E. R. Smith 2018

Molded round, impervious; taking on weights and tolls

Angled sharp, quick, multifaceted

Stong straight throughout storms; raising barricades

Patented abilities,  unfragmented

Turns hexagon to rhombus, clearest diamond

Inspiring humanity with the feminine

Crafting both art and war; lovely siren

Feelings of Fear

©2017 E. R. Smith

A block of ice lays the head

Bites into the brain

Crams darkness like lead

Drives one insane

Evil is this blatant insanity

Fear the power consuming

Grave the battle, calamity

Heart-felt power dooming

Icy prickles spread down spine

Just in time to catch doubt

Killing hope of life divine

Leaving  bitter drought

My soul glistens when vaporized

Numb tears shed  its loss

Owning a head beaten traumatized

Phantom unseen touches toss

Quiet mind down and determine

Really, is it there?

Sane is it,  to house this vermin?

Tear now at angst’s snare

Unseat it from the crown

Visualize strength inside

Will Force to beat it sound

X-Gen worries easing stride

Years of prayers  Mighty pound

Zen reached  Love drowned sigh