chelevar's profile

We were sitting there on the little gallery, my babe sister and I. since we were not aloud to go inside the house. Our Moma had gone running errands. Papa was at work at the bureau de Contribution. It was the first time she had done that. I don’t remember why but something was pressing. My mom was making sure we understood. She made a solemn plea to us, to me in particular given that I was the eldest, a plea that resonated deep inside me in the form of strict orders. We were not to go i...

I must not forget who i am. i must not forget who i am?! i must remember who i am but to be to have been continues to be Who i am is to be. period. the way the ole day the way we were to be is to be born who i was born to be born how i was born to be born where i was born to be burn to be to be to be to be End be to be. And be till when; to be lived and loved and be loved. to be till when all; to be till when one two people chose to love to be is i am. simply. there was no who i was who i wa...

  franchise femme, fawn Belle Magnolia, Cerise, ‘rose’, her shell Furore with her hair dye of canella Beasts of a gazelle, Elegant in her gallop Lit ants she cannot wallop She, beast of a gazelle Skin with the dye of cinnamon-nelle Scalene, emergent as if scalloped, Akin to a scaly tear, slip that slopped Acumen in cue, she, coquina, but quelled Soliloquy in silky scrawl, to you, impelled Swollen with pride, to what, of you, befell Silly colloquy, though, a tribute to...

OLD CRY CREOLE Bloody and insane first came to mind The land of miserable tale of bravery Shame on you, them and yours and mine Volatile fables we live and die our misery Clouding our temples of deceitful pride Receding our thin, tired self. What treachery What pitiful sight, pity so, I missed a cry Laboring with reason and reason, it pleases me To such motive, I bewail as well as stride It is my calling, my presence and history Old cry Creole, I land of hands to your sky Old man, old, t...

When the marquee ship Marine supreme Loiters its appendage in the foamy cream And its crop, kipped beam, Stealing the distant gleam Leaving the sea its seam Sentiments to be redeemed When stares become teemed With fleeing tears that stream Vivacity at velocity extreme Icing a sung I sing for you, my dame       RSe1mour