[tabby title="Poem"] Black students,sick of sleeping on sloped benches.Rise, with ruffeled voice and aching feet. No funds paid,the government is still looking for money...somewhere up there. This street turns back time, begrudgingly. Satisfied growls of laughter roar from branded barricades.Good...

[tabby title="Poem"] Schoolgirls lie dead,In that far-off country you don't know of yet.You are too young to understand oil wars,or that thin line between a greedy and oppressive leader. I don't need to explain this. You know something is wrong.We...

[tabby title="Poem"] I consulted the poets today.Like a sick child at the doctor-Ginsburg, Oliver, Yeats...They always knew the cure:with their fire, peace and aches. They told me to wake past noonand sit in the humming garden.To read under the heavy...

[tabby title="Poem"] My mother told me,'Over the hill lies a safer place,where all things blessed and holywill greet me with a warm embrace'. I used to long for this fiction.Over the hill, beyond the fire.Sparked by the frictionof old tales...

[tabby title="Poem"] Her voice is like liquid silver,faintly flowing through the fractures of my heart.Every word she spokecrept through faded footpaths of lost love,its warmth soothing sorrow and soldering scars. I knew this would never last-silver will always fade.What I...