We Need Joy As We Need Air.

Poetry Helps My Soul Escape Its Encasement.

When I Was Asked To Do Something Good, I Often Say Yes, I'll Try, Yes, I'll Do My Best. And Part Of That Is Believing, If God Loves Me, If God Made Everything From Leaves To Seals And Oak Trees, Then What Is It I Can't Do?

The Breezes Of The West African Night Were Intimate And Shy, Licking The Hair, Sweeping Through Cotton Dresses With Unseemly Intimacy, Then Disappearing Into The Utter Blackness.

Y’all Dropped The Ball And You Should Be Shamed.

The Idea Is To Write It So That People Hear It And It Slides Through The Brain And Goes Straight To The Heart.