What to do

I wanna know what’s next

after this.

I wanna know

what’s next

for me

after this high

if you know of me

if you know  me

then you probably know me better than I know myself.

my passions are all over the place.

what do you suggest

after/(preferably

before)

this

is

no

more--?

The Plan ( a work in progress)

I don’t know if I’ve seen her yet

But I’ve envisioned how she makes me feel.

Like a king

Despite my faults

She sees someone who rounds out all of her squares;

Her checklist of personal issues I help to un-

check as we go along.

She’s on my layaway plan.

I’m making sacrifices for her.

Overlooking the things I don’t really need

the short-term things

To save up for what/ for who

I really want

for life.

is true

 

that when she is found

I will have spent my entire adult life looking

4 her

I will be scared shitless

that I would do

say

something to fuck it up.

 Am I crazy?

 

 

A Poem with no name

She was the period at the end of the sentence,

as she referred to herself,

or the answer to my question

as I referred to her

since before her I was stuck in a rut,

looking for women in whose eyes I could see my future daughter Maya Angela George and/or future sons Daij Langston George and  Malcolm Wesley George,

or any names she would want the kids to have,

as long as they were ours.

I’ve since had to erase the period.

I wouldn’t say that God came between us.

It was religion that tore us apart.

I’ve had to erase the period,

Changing it to a comma,

waiting to complete it:

 changing it to a question mark,

looking for an answer.

I’m dating every chance I get,

but I’m not seeing  Maya or Daij or Malcolm in any of their eyes.

Dear Lord,

I’m dying a thousand times.

Please bless me.

Isn’t it about time?

I’m the only one I know who has not been divorced,

or isn’t with someone they wish  would leave home and never return.

(I guess that’s a good thing.

Right?)

                                         today she called to tell me she and her husband was having a son,

And if she could name him Malcolm Wesley Muhammad—
and I died inside again.

 

 

 

Vicious Cycle

enter, slap;
breathe, cry.
suckle,drink;
wet, cry.
Walk, talk;
fall, cry.
School, friends;
fight, cry.
College, learn;
toil, cry.
Marry, debts;
kids, cry.
Retire. wither;
cry, die.

--alieux casey-george

Black Up

this is for some of you.
You forgot what it was like to remember
what your parents said.             what
                                       it was like 


to grow up in the 40s and 50s;
some of you
you act as if we’ve always had the right to swim in the same pools 
to drink out the same fountains 
to love their men and their women. 
to shit in their toilets 

get together folks:

our parents were only qualified to clean those toilets


black yourselves up
or it will be done for you.

on a lower scale. 

retro-
actively.

--AlexGeorge

Kaleidoscope

Take me somewhere nice

You asked:

you don’t have to worry about that.

I hope to take you places you’ll never want to leave

hope to make you see colors you never before

have seen.

                          /and we don’t even have to leave the house.

when I love

you know it.

when I love

I go overboard in showing it,

leaving no doubt

what you mean

to

me.

 

-AlieuxCasey-George