I write poems at the bar on Thursday nights

It only makes sense for me to start this post off with a long-awaited refined playlist of about 80-sum songs before we get into this poetry. The songs in this playlist embody fulfillment, love, the feeling of skinny dipping in the daytime and overall just romanticizing life. Life has a funny and silly way of making us feel insane. Only a few of us are crazy enough to admit that.

I must confess my admittance.

“Me & Your Mama” (scroll down and press play while reading)
the embers of a broken fire
enchant me as
i feel this beat and allow myself to float along
the river of this madness
that embodies me
and my anger
i try to express you freely
but you escape me
i try to dance with you
but you decline my offers
i allow you to keep me “sane”
but my sanity escapes when i’m
with you
can you hold me?
like my mother and my father?
can you build me up like a lover,
just to tear me down so
i can build myself stronger?
i feel afraid but you make me strong.
i hear your plea for expression,
will you hold me in your fire?
my charcoal insides create
a pathway home.

Archival Ash

Ocean Offering
through the oceans fire
i am submerged in your oneness
tempted by your waves
you swallow me in
my love for you
grows and spreads like the wings on my
i’ve longed for something so
to taste the love
beckoned by your kiss
a splash in the face
a whip of my tail
i play and laugh in
your name
in our name
through the fire in our ocean
call to us

Offering to fill the gaps follow-up

the tall houses laid up against the palm trees in oakland make me feel small in the moonlight. as i take my leisurely stroll at 8 pm up the sidewalk, i’m thinking about subjectivity, the crossroads, what makes a good poem and inhaling tobacco. i see two black cats and two black dogs and i walk toward a curve. a windy road that sparks flashes of accidents before i light my next flame. 

is this where i’m supposed to be? 

i notice for the first time, houses trimming with dollar-store decorative lights and i hear audacious laughter ahead of me. it’s dark out, but the streetlights engage my senses and the helicopter continues to roar above my head. i feel alive and hidden. i feel safe and untamed. 

i turn around to feel the breeze on my face.

as i step to the other side of the road, a little bit of resentment is tucked into the front pocket of my jacket because each house window i’ve peaked inside of seems to hold a white person. here in oakland. here on my block. where my people wander the streets looking for home. i turn my head. i receive side glances and tightness of energy projected my way. yeah they’re still afraid of Black people when they live in oakland claiming to be liberal. i don’t like the feeling of being watched by them. surveilled.  with every step, i take i forget. then i remember and the cycle continues. 

All poems up for open interpretation


Your Angel Ash 💌


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