Recent content by HSF Moe

what inspired this poem was something my Imam (religious teachers) said in a sermon: "No matter how dirty your past is, no matter how dirty your future is, God always has a clean future for you. Keep it that way..." So much wisdom there. The believer always regrets when he messes up--and unlike...

Thought I'd throw in a religious piece... Wrote this one, and disguised it as a break-up poem: “The Sinner” Gloomy, dark days since God's gift had run its course Tired, listless Somber Hopeless Can't seem to get out of bed these days Through my trance-like gaze I see a light that burns...

The subject is a friend's daughter--an 8 year old who almost didn't get here. I'm going to leave it at that. Her name is "Zori".... Delivered on a glass platter hovered between the heavens and the Earth suspended by a silk string carried the weight of her world like the whispers of a soft...

elusive woman, help me. help me find the words to create you i am not God-like but i want to pull you from my rib cage breathe life into your nostrils and say, “be.” as in, be wrapped around my finger in eternal bliss kiss my soul from above This is not any bathwater-drinking...

now that's a huge compliment! Thank you!

thanks yall!

written at 4 a.m., just minutes after I got the news. I was in bed.

In my youth I tasted tears Drank saliva Bit my tongue Digested gorged meals of humility At the buffet of persecution Eyes punish my soul By ramming reality down its throat They torment me Replaying the burning Holocaust Even as I sleep * History left ridges of welts on my back...

I intended for the "strange fruit" to liken black men hanging in trees to unidentified fruit, like when you look at a tree, trying to figure out what kind of tree it is... And our children have become like weeds, choking out the good ones. I have a piece that addresses that. I'll see if I can...

When I perform this, I usually close by saying, "Bring on the Reparations..."

glare of the rising Son bleached vision – can't see felt a mother's tear drop left red pools fed roots that nourished dead branches of our family tree what pretell is this strange fruit that so incites me? plucked from the tree of knowledge forbidden source of original sin drips the juice of...

dawww shux! thank you!

poetic lines live like small samples of sanguine sanity secreted through my sixth scent squeezed from the pulse of my heart's intent ink imprints stain the scantily-clad skin of my blank scroll to say let there be life like God almighty I scoop handfuls of miry clay beget my image onto its soul...

thank yall. she did read it, it's posted on my blog, and she's in good spirits.

written for my second wife, whom I nicknamed "sexy chocolate". we married at 22/23 (I was 23) and broke up over some silly stuff. after the divorce, we went to uno's pizzeria, caught a movie, and have been close friend ever since. she has been battling cancer, and was just given 24 months to...