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



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




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

Exposure My Heart


Source: Exposure My Heart


Opened much too soon to a lovely face

that erased me as soon as my utterings were done,

Opened myself to a grace

disinterested in being mine,

Skin so lovely my tongue wanted a taste

of that casing only so deep,

Next time I won’t be beguiled

by style and symmetry,

Next time I love, it will be

passionate poetry,

Exposing my soul to a stranger,

strangled my faith in the next.

By Michael Cleaves aka bronxbeyondborders


Party Girls Why Do You Hate Me?

©2017 E. R. Smith

Party girls why do you hate me?

You dated early choice boys who forsook me

Always invited to the party or to club

Me? Home studying how to live above

How do I move from welfare to fairing well?

Well, I missed the parties, the boys, your circle of love

Party girls why do you hate me, I adore your pretty babies?

Stopped by every shower to shower you with a first paycheck gift

Left wondering at the ousted feeling on my skin,  a bad whiff

Why do you hate me? I wondered at the choices of mates you mated!

Jealous of the choice boys you sampled in the community

Wanting to be held, but more held above other women, highly rated

I waited….a    long    time.   Saw you all from time to time; raising families

Jealous of the love surrounding you, wandering where mine lay hiding

Graduated BS, MSEd., good job, okay looking lady seeking family

God sent him and then my dearest daughter’s love, abiding

Married black family rare and true, but I’ve done nothing to you

So, why do you hate me, when’ve I’ve only envied how God blessed you?