Dark Wolf

http://www.redfez.net/poetry/1692

Hello, here is a link to a poem written by me, and published at Red Fez online magazine. This poem was written for my muse... Ever my Dark Wolf.

Dreamed You

I dreamed you~in that place~we have never parted.

Summers Last Bloom

Beauty unfolds, dawns light, pure and delicate cast this, summers last bloom in stunning repose.

You Asked

You ask~ to see who I am~read my words~they are~ bits of me~they speak when I am speechless in your presence.

Drowning Dreams

Sinking in darkness~I reach for his hand~as the shallows deepen~I am swallowed~the waves cover my head~spilling in~in a strangling rush~through the surface~I can see~him on the waters edge~not alone~his hand in hers~I drown in memories... -Autumn Phoenix

Phoenix Rising

I have been away from posting for awhile, but not from writing. If you follow my twitter you can see I was still able to get those 140 characters in most days. I can't help it, writing is a need for me. In the last week I have been on class break. I have been able to indulge in creating some spoken world videos. Instead of my usual photographic displays, I set them to a genre called machinima. I am including a link to the first one here. http://youtu.be/YcNMep8d-b8 Until next time. Be Blessed All.

New Love: a fragment poem

Love~ I am open~ to a new love~come find me~for I will not look~for thee.

Ocean Play

Ocean Play

Gently, gent;y he takes her hand

warm and course the tiny grains of sand
cling to their legs and feet.

Salty sprays of aqua blue
the ocean conspires against the two
to send them running from its waves.

In the wake of rolling tides
laughter sparkling in their eyes
hand in hand they dodge the surf.

A Fresh Start

Lightening, flash and thunder roar
Light and dark patterns roll by
My landscape is changed.

As my past dies, my future begins.
Yesterday is a rival of a newborn day.

This is my chance, this is my sway,
To close the door on mistakes.
To start afresh is my promise made.

Ole to Pride

Ole’ to Gordon Parks and the men and women
Black with gifted hearts.
To have seen him in his prime
to have known talent so divine.

I wish I could have been there
when Harlem was new.

I wish I could have seen
Langston and Maya
The “Count and Lady”
All that creativity, the birth of expression.

The poetry, the words and lyrics
The art of art, photographs and paintings.

These were the gifted minds of a thriving
place and yes a time.
Gordan Parks, Dorothy Dandrige, Eartha Kit
Sidney Poitier’, and Bea so divine.

These were our giants, Titian’s of black history.
legends out of time.

They gave us ourselves,
before the marches before the equality
of a long struggle.
They gave us, us.

The heart and soul of a people
at a time when it wasn’t cool to be black.

These giants showed the world
it was a gift to be black.
As they sang “to be young gifted and black.”
They showed us all.

Yes to be young gifted and black
I call the role and listen to the affirming reply.

Billy Extine…Present
Marcus Garvey…Present
Sarah Vaughn…Present
Mahalia Jackson…Present

I call the role
Matthew Henson and Ossie Davis…Present

Butterfly McQueen…Present
Ruby Keyler…Present
Bill Bo jangles…Present
Lena Horn…present

On and on the role was called
on and on the gifts were given.

On and on it goes
until the end of time
ole to a people most gifted
and divine.

Me in my coat

The weather demands a proper wrap
against the winds chilling slap.
So bundled up
in my corduroy coat
scarf and hat, the wind
I hope to smote.
A smile upon my face
with warm resolve I brace,
to scale old man winters moat.
Me in my coat!

Rick

A voice rich like velvet honey
deep and satin smooth,
the timbre of a jazz sax
hot and earthy.

Flowing in my ear
like a rain of treacle.
The sound so warm and covering,
melting butter
over an ear of corn.

Eyes the color
of a brand new spring day.
Crystal clear like a Fuji sea.
Deep enough to swallow you whole.

Eyes the windows to the soul.
Cool carefree vibe
warm spring day
its good to be alive.

Meet Again

The universe tells me~we will meet again~not with the weight of a friendship past~ but with the weight~of a butterfly~resting on a petal.

A Black Thang

Being black in America/A black thang

Whats it all about you ask?
Its about confusion in you heritage-
About being considered inferior to other Americans
It's about stereotypes... being one;
trying not to be one.

Its about the human color spectrum,
from white chocolate and cafe'ole
to the ebony black as a matter of fact.

Being black in america
is about a straight or kinky
and a every texture in between hair thang.

Creativity and style
when ain't nothing to work
with for miles and miles.
Its about open arms for every person
and culture in this big ole world.

Double dutch and hop-scotch,
its about sitting on the stoop
on a hot summers night
watching the cars roll by.

Being black in america is about grandma's
firm hand on your backsides
when you got out of line.

About Sunday morning church
singing in the choirs.
Sunday dinner with mixed greens
a ham hock tossed in,
macaroni and cheese.

Fried chicken and catfish
corn bread and sweet tea
with spice cake,homemade caramel icing.

Being black in america is knowing
what soul really is...
and knowing more- than how to dance,
sing and play sports.
Its about knowing the struggle that got us this far.

About living your life with pride and determination.
Its about knowing; the good lords grace,
is yours- handed down like old clothes from
mama and her mama and her mama's mama.

Being black in america is about knowing
even if you cant trace your ancestors
back to a king or queen-
you are; a king or queen.

Its about being accepting of all you been through-
holding your head up and singing "Lift every voice and sing..."
Knowing you can take nothing and make everything
from that.

Being black in america is about love of family
Its about history or "their story"

...
future, past and present.

Its about all the good,
the bad the indifferent.
It's about life...
yours and mine.

Being Black in America..
Well its a black thang

At the Crossroads

Though we do not travel the same road~at each crossroads~I will look for you.

The Web

The Web


Beads of dew capture the light
on a thread so fine.
True silk spun with delicate detail
the web so strong in creation.
The web a design built to hold fast its catch.
Sparkles with morning dew in spirals of beauty.
This web built with intended design
is a thing of strength and purpose.
Winds blown from the north, winds blown from the south
have destroyed this fragile wonder.
I’ve seen this web before at its best.
Busy little spider repair your work
or lose your next catch.
Your never ending duty you must not shirk.

Wishing Star

I wished upon a star~followed its light~there you were~bathed in fireworks~shimmering in all the colors~of my love. #musepoetry

As My Lips said Goodbye

I wanted to cry when my lips said the words.
I thought I would sob as the pain welled up inside me
No tear fell from my eyes, no tears formed in these dry orbs
My heart snapped into pieces and yet I could not cry.

As my lips said goodbye

This limbo we made for our selves was hell.
We held so tight to our disappointments,
Clung so desperately to our hurts;
We began to use our love as a weapon.

As my lips said goodbye

I wanted to die.
My breath caught in my throat
Causing the words to strangle me
Yet no tears fell from these eyes, no tears formed in their dry sockets.

As my lips said goodbye

I tried not to count the days.
I tried to see the love as it began
We shared nothing but rapture.
My life over flowed with immeasurable joy.

As my lips said goodbye

No sobs broke free; no tears fell from my eyes
Not one tear came to deliver me.
I felt my lips part and heard the words
Yet I never let go…

Time together

What could I change
of our time together-
perhaps to lengthen the days.

Loves Lament

Shadows and shadows
of a love no more.
I chase them and chase them
like a rich mans whore.
I bash my teeth and rent my clothes 
pull out my hair and moan in my woes.
Deceived and betrayed 
bereft and alone I laid.
Darkness swallows my  piteous cry.
My mind screams and begs my heart to die.
Foolish and weeping thing that it is
to miss a one such as his.
Who with velvet tongue and ease
captured that willing organ in me.
Follow him I did with pleasure
and gave him all love unmeasured.
Now the tide has turned 
love from me is spurned.
To give all I had
was foolish indeed.
Were I to have been warned,
I would not have paid heed.
To love and give love
was my hearts desire and need.
My own actions I admit and claim
have brought me to this folly and pain. 
I've learned my lesson
this I state.
I vow, yet again
on true love...
I will wait.

Reality

Just before dawn~I wake and remember~you are gone.

Shared

Words and music played in tune
in my mind and in his room.
Incense and candles burn
while he and me our natures learn.