Tag: poem

Posted on

Buses and Trains

I have an intimate, back and forth type of relationship


With the way I go back and forth with bus stops and train stations, it’s,


A hallmark of a city kid, having your favorite bus seat and preferred type of train car,


Or knowing which doors to pick, so when the train opens up and you head toward the stairs you don’t have to walk that far.


As the sirens blare, and loud music purveys, and other harmonious, natural city sounds emanate,


I find my own rhythm, it doesn’t take long,
getting into the groove with buses and trains is how I sing a city’s song. – RSM

Posted on

Periwinkle Skies; A Sign

A light purple, if you will,

So trill, the hue of royalty hangs itself above the ever-moving metropolis,

it’s a shade that flirts with blue, purple, and grey – every so often, this, horizon

glows above us, quietly, yet proudly.

Not unlike the dusk that follows, it wanes into darker times, yet reminding us to be not afraid of the night. – RSM

Posted on

An Ode To ‘New Blue Sun’ by André 3000

Such perfect simplicity rings through my ears.

A far cry from the past, such a serene set of sounds salivates my synapses

as I type away my thoughts.

Brain candy, but the healthy kind.

Rewind nearly twenty years back and the same man had Caroline’s roses

and the whole world shakin’ it like a Polaroid picture, but Ow!

how it hurts how much the world has changed since then.

I appreciate every kind detail, every minute little sonic that crafts a wordless tale.

Knuckles bared, shoulders squared, wherever this new blue sun is rising, I’m there.

Keep evolving, 3 Stacks, keep evolving. – RSM

Posted on

Hypothetically Yes, Theoretically Forever

What if we met on a whim at a random little house party in Harlem


What if we went on a few cute little dates


What if your curls and smile reminded me of sunlight, cuz I couldn’t get enough, still can’t


What if that little blue dress drew me in like a magnet


What if I believed we were onto something and I sneezed inward when you surprised me with a “yes”


What if my demons came to get me and you were there through it all and beyond


What if our spontaneous fun times turned into a lifetime of love


What if we moved in together like 5 and a half times and exchanged my hometown with yours


What if we watched over dozens of college kids for several years


What if the world stopped when you said “yes” again on that sweetest day


What if we got married and kept on traveling the world together


What if we bought a nice little bungalow on the South Side of Chicago and cuddled to Enamorándonos every weeknight


What if none of these ‘what ifs’ ever happened?


^That’s the only hypothetical in my mind I’d rather not entertain. – RSM

Posted on

Magic is Real

Just hear me out, even if you think this is silly:

Colors that you see within your current scene are miracles in themselves,


allowing light to glow in full technicolor, rendering all images and visions so vibrantly alive,


And don’t even get me started on vibrations and sound,


an infinite slate of possibilities found within our hearable frequencies,


Imprinted in our memory, music maps major and minor chords


Into emotions and experiences tied to our recollections of earlier serenades,


Your other senses and more contribute to this life’s stats and lore

And all we little humans do in this universe is magic –


indistinguishable from advanced technology, because those are the same damn thangg,
We use thoughts and actions to manifest our dreams and aspirations,
From the mundane to the most profound creations,

Magic is the way thought comes to fruition and it lies within those who act on their visions. – RSM

Posted on

Traditions

Empowering, uplifting, generational gifts, with unity, family, love, faith, a safe space, but

violence, disdain, exile, and prejudice run alongside some traditional ties mixed in with lies.

All it takes is a little misinterpretation to find ourselves armed to the teeth

with grief and contempt for those not following doctrine,

We don’t tempt the gods, supreme beings, nor leaders who we’ve been told to worship / fear / revere as we grow,

and as long as hatred is sowed in the fields that we teach our descendants to reap,

our loving traditions will be intertwined along with guidelines on who to love, who to hate, and who doesn’t belong.

Traditions are the chorus of humanity’s one song, and in this uni-verse I’ll gladly sing along,

but I’m not down for the twists and turns that changes love for all into misery for ‘others,’ and only love for some. – RSM

Posted on

And the Beat Goes On

Sneakers and boots swarm the shoe rack by the front door.

The apartment is bustling, the air is rustling,

buzzing with the electric bliss of danceable beats,

beer cans clicking open – a romanceable heat fills the air.

I’m there, purple pants gliding by the guidance of my black socks beneath.

I didn’t know that this pretty girl I hadn’t met yet had her bold brown eyes hovering my way,

but I’m glad that when she saw me for the first time, I was at my happiest –

I was just vibing, speaking my soul’s most fluent language.

We broke the ice with our feet and the beat

as our words flowed flawlessly over the backdrop

of about twenty-something other twenty-somethings,

grooving along to the music that moved us.

I let her know that I liked her necklace, and when she said “Thank you!”

I was introduced to my favorite smile in the world.

Today we’re ten years beyond the night we had shared our first song.

Anniversaries and holidays now align

as we dine, travel, work, live, love, laugh, and still dance together.

From days to weeks, months, years, decades, and more

I always look forward to the next time we share a dance floor. – RSM ❤

Posted on

And I Ran . . .

What a relief as I take off into the cool breeze,

I’m feeling the air, hearing my footsteps as I sweat it out,

I zoom into the void of my path ahead.

My mind drops into silence from its usual chatter, ever-loud;

distractions disappear like a leftover fog from a cloudy day.

Peace sits between my ears as a flock of seagulls sets a course ahead to explore. – RSM

Posted on

The Scarlet Diagnosis

It’s not a letter imprinted on my forehead,

but a permanent brand, nevertheless.

A reason to be ‘written off,’ no matter my patience,

nor my life’s redemptive arc, or stellar record of maintenance,

my clearest, most quiet days are drowned out by the noise

and the fog of others’ uncertainty, no matter my poise.

Difficult – it’s been that. Optimistic – I’m still that.

But just like the label on the back of your clothes –

you’re judged by it, put in a box, and I’ve been trapped.

I don’t mind, though, the territory it comes with;

Exiled to roam this land’s steep peaks, low valleys, and unpredictable weather,

I’ve learned to snowboard and rock climb, and I keep getting better. – RSM

Posted on

Blank

I’m on a journey where things just tend to get stranger,

I have a stoic face on, from a chemical brain changer.

my emotional range has been strictly maintained

so I stare down bliss the same way I look at danger.

I’m a feather, slowly floating along through sweater weather,

whether the winds are weak or strong, I’m just gone

and the song in my mind is on a short loop, perpetual,

It’s the same time of the day, no matter when I look at the schedu-al,

Third eye’s view is laser precise, cuz all the colors of emotions are void,

I can only see in a sharp black and white, I can hear a loud silence, I can feel the noise;

each moment is vivid, from the inside out

But I’m on Saitama’s vibes all day, without a doubt. – RSM