Eyes can’t see,
Words can’t express.
However, I know the feeling hasn’t left yet.
Minds can’t grasp,
Bones can’t feel,
However, I know the feeling hasn’t left yet.
Regrets can’t be erased,
Thoughts can’t taste,
However, I know the feeling hasn’t left yet.
Things change.
Minds feel,
Hearts taste,
Futures arrive,
Time no longer a waste.
Who shall know?
Who shall see,
Maybe she is the epitome of who I shall become.
New lights,
Old tunes,
But what I can seem to forever remember is me and you.
Brittany Dukes
Eyes removed from their original place,
where shall they be placed or,
which road shall they take?
Taking over where the last left off,
offering a healing dose to the slight cough.
However, when sight has never been obtained,
how does one understand what has been gained?
Panied from years of blindness,
thinking of what can be found,
then realizing one can’t see what one is finding,
due to intense blindness
As if all of the missing pixels are replaced,
clarity appears from all corners and all around.
Possibly understanding why the ups, and maybe even the downs, once occured.
And the ourageous cure, that seemingly removed what pushed the coal deeper into the fire.
But when the product is removed,
a glistening product is produced.
Whispers of judgement pass through the filters and drip onto the restored work.
Tainted it is not, though many would plead the difference,
As if in the courtroom of destruction.
A journey that the multitude feared to research,
however, a lost soul ventured out to fly all alone,
Even willing the risk of being shot down by the bullets of envy.
The bird’s wings now kiss the horizon that the fingertips of the negative energy dream of.
Finding the nest that suits the mind, body, and soul.
Finding the,
True Destination.
-Brittany Dukes
Gun shots fired, or were they only heard
Ears witness the sounds, “Man down” is heard
Or was it merely the thickness of their imagination.
A resolution is needed as swift cars and heart throbbing 808s move by the scene.
Glass breaking scream is heard & it’s almost as if time freezes,
As sweat drenched bodies flood the red painted area.
Whispers are poured from the confused spirits as they disect the vessel laying before them.
A young Queen, with chocolate kissed skin and smooth gentle locks, leaned down and caressed the face of the old spirit within a newborn Queen:
Still living in the single digits of life,
Seemingly trapped.
As the motherly spirit begins to kiss that of the young one, eyes are opened.
Gasps of the multitude revealing that the witnessed pupils had given up on the fallen Queen, that had been pierced with the bullets of abuse, neglect, and a swollen womb.
Along with being stabbed by the words of the world.
As the Mother Queen lends a hand, the baby reaches out a hand,
Whispers are heard through the crowd once again…
Tears beat against the pavement, already drenched from the crowd.
As their cups of judgement and carelessness overflow.
Problems, surrounders, sleepless nights; decreased
Worries, stresses, tears; decreased
Single Digits.
-B.Dukes
“Engulfing the viewer, deeper but,
As soon as the book is being opened,
A swift cool summer breeze, closes
Understanding only a few coverings
The back tells, speaks of hard times, heartache
Overflowing tears that speak
Cold heart, wanting love but not knowing
Where to turn or who to trust
As the perfectly carved masterpiece lays,
Pains from the past ripping through the spirit
As the designer pulls out the stitches,
and swiftly yet ever so gently
Beginning to repair the broken areas
The vessel thinks “for what do I owe?”
The designer never removing the concentration
Of making the work of art whole again
The work becomes uneasy and begins to shift
A sweet harmonic melody is pushed passed the lips of the Artist
The work has began to relax, yet tension still, residing within the creases
Only until [it] The Queen or King lets go,
Unfinshed areas shall remain naked unto the world
Allowing the evil spirits to take advantage of the beautiful work of art.
Green Eyes tell all.”
“Closing my eyes thinking of her him. Dreaming constantly of the small petite frame and dreads caressing the shoulders of her his frame. Who do I love what do i want? I think I love him her. Or maybe even them..Daisy & Rose”
Looking out for the answer..who dares to show me the way
