Don’t get too close; you’ll get
Sucked into the vacuum of the space
I used to occupy
As I
Sprint backwards
Chasing the remnants of
A dream that I don’t


“Why haven’t you written?”

Write a poem,
Do the mad black thing, we want that marketable nigger anger
The hard exterior, like black diamond,
That we can commodify

Make it spoken word,
Something to relate to,
show us what it’s like to be you
Show us something we can be thankful not to see
Give us the inside look, your bloods diamond
We are waiting for you to speak


Inner monologue (a script)

Look at him,
He’s not the one you want
The wanted one was pardoned.
Why? We can’t quite remember
Boredom? Fear?
What’s the difference any more?

But you’re here,
That shouldn’t be enough, but it is
Close your eyes and remember
Now open and recreate
Apologize to yourself
Then settle
It’ll only take a moment
Stop thinking, and it’ll be fun
I promise


Time had a way of showing us what mattered most
No wonder I’m still chasing your ghost
Faith based on faith-based sentiments
I call your name
And I hear it back
Once, twice, a hundred times over
Following echoes that I make
Reliving memories
Getting lost in the moment that was
Having existed and been loved,
If time is the window
I’m outside, looking in
You’ve gone on with your life
And I’ve become the ghost
How I wish it wasn’t true
That time tells what matters most


Life of a dream.

Take one hit. You’re hooked aren’t you?

Take one beating . He doesn’t get booked does he?

Fall in love in one beat. Your hearts crooked isn’t it?

Smile slowly. You’re in pain aren’t you?

Love in one way. You must be lost… are you?

So much expected. You think I’m God don’t you?

But if its too much of a good thing, it wont be good for long will it?

Broken glass cant hide in my lawn baby.

What am I but tossed in the wind?

Empty jars making noise, with you I plead.

Why are half filled jars the reason I don’t leave?

Because you will never know that feeling, you’ll never feel the pain of the beating.

Believe me I love you, just not in that way. Not at this moment and certainly not in this place.

Big heart but I leave it loose.

You’re a shooting cannon, are we playing duck duck goose?

Cause maybe I’m the ugly one that you choose to bruise.

Slowly dying but your sight I cannot lose.

So tell me when it kicks in, tell me when there’s only guilt you feel.

Because this seems to be the life of a dream.


What is life but days on end? What is love but emotions we bend? What is a journey but the beginning to an end? What is living but being present?

Who am I but a star in deep skies? Who am I but a light where darkness looms? Who am I but a redeemed soul? Who am I to be but acceptable?

Questions pour in like heavy rain from the heavens. Where do you stand? Do you watch when I ponder? Are you listening from upon yonder?

If morning never comes to be, if I lose where I came from, if no one is standing beside me, will you still be? But how can I be still? I wonder, will you say my name still? Have you lost the love you had for me?

when the shadow comes down from the hill, how am I supposed to feel? So I ask, what is uncertainty but my achilles heel?


-Rosy Love


It’s raining outside. I guess it’s also safe to say that it’s raining inside. Leaves covered, ground pounded, it’s heavy alright. But just like any other writer, I’m looking for inspiration on such a gloomy and cold day. I want to eat, but don’t want to cook. I was able to make a cup of coffee, but that’s about all my stomach might be seeing today. I’ve got no tomatoes, just onions and I’d like to make eggs. But isn’t that simply life? Don’t we always look for good in what clearly seems to be bad? Don’t we want things real bad, but never bad enough that we go get them? Or am I the only one who always sees that in life there’s always a road but no means of transportation? I think that’s the circle of life. Forget about lion king and happy animal kingdoms, this has become our jungle. Now I would like to write with the aim of encouraging people, but in some twisted way I think that this is the best way to encourage and motivate people. . . It may not come off as encouragement, but I know I need to wake up and” smell the coffee.” Life is definitely what you make it, and on this gloomy and rainy day, I almost made it about my lack of tomatoes in the presence of my hunger and eggs. I almost forgot that last night I was able to share a meal with my loving friends, right after I called my blessing of a father to check on my family which I only see on weekends because I am a full time student. While someone somewhere wishes that they could read and write. I almost forgot that I am actually able to buy tomatoes or better yet order take out, but the restaurant won’t pick up my call. All this hustle just to eat yet the only reason I’m not getting my way is because I’m lazy. But I’m also very hungry, and this is what it all boils down to. Are you willing to sit and analyze how far the circle spreads and what you can give and get from it, or would you rather sit and talk/think about how much better things could be. That my dear reader, is up to you. But whether or not you choose to wake up and buy tomatoes or to sit In bed and Google pictures of food, know that the circle of life can and will go on without you. So are you willing to do something, anything?


1,2 He’s coming for you. 3,4 better lock your door. 5,6 don’t think bout this… That almost became my anthem, after you lock someone out, you learn to forget them. I always wonder why we give titles to things, why cant things just be and exist? Is it a must to call them friend or best friend? Because isn’t that what confuses friends with boyfriends? I can never get a grip on these titles. But the greatest thing is that I am not the only one who feels so. At least I hope that I am not alone. But baby he wont go. Even though I keep telling him that you’re so  and so. In my life you hold a title, a strong one that makes me bundled. Right into your package of love and  joy, Oh boy . He still wont go. I keep counting down the minutes, the hold… It must be strong. But someday I’ll be better off without this. Someday I will wake up and realize that friends and girlfriends cross a thin line and they don’t exist. Titles will become other names and names will cease to have purpose. But because  he wont go, tell me the difference between a friend and a foe. Is it that they match to different beats, in different patterns, or that they have different needs and different anthems? Either way, I doubt that will make him go. So pick up your pace and force an amend, because at the end of the day aren’t we all friends and girlfriends?


-Rosy Love

“Life comes from life”

I just finished watching “The fault in our stars”. And I feel like an idiot. I cried buckets of tears about a movie based on some book. But I sort of wish I’d read the book first, I don’t know… weird morals and all. Blame it on being a weirdo or just the fact that the movie was so darn good, I cant help but wonder what the book would be like. Just like Hazel Grace (the main character in the movie), I believe in life being all that you get, nothing more and certainly nothing less. Also I know that pain demands to be felt. I may not be a cancer victim or survivor, heck I may not even have a cold right now, but I have felt pain… a lot of it. It felt just like how she described falling in love, slowly at first then BAM ! all at once. I’d like to believe in love, and I do. I believe that each and everyone of us deserves to love and be loved. Not because Jesus first loved us and because that’s his will for us, but simply because I want to. The great feeling it is to have someone look at you adoringly, want to spend time with you, or even just a friend calling to checking up on you, and mommy having to give up a few spa dates to, get you that new phone, is to me as big a deal as it is to love someone deeply, to cry on the phone with your bestie when her boyfriend cheats on her with sally from down the ally, or to stick with the old phone a while longer and save up to take mommy for a spa date. That interrelation between loving and being loved is what I think love is. I don’t wanna say that love is life, because it certainly isn’t, but life is love. Waking up in the morning with a zit on your face yet loving the skin your’e in, or perhaps going to sleep without eating dinner and hoping for a meal come morning light; life is translated to love even  when your’e wondering about there being a God who could possibly love us so much that he gave his only son… to come die for us. Life is definetley love. Life is lived according to ones preferences, but ends up translated in anothers presence. So today I choose to live, fearlessly and largely  knowing that there’s got to be someone, somewhere waiting to translated it into love. And if I am not remembered by even one person like I’d hope to be, Ill live and die knowing that where there is hope, there is life and life will always come from life.

-Rosy Love

Uniform. Not uniform.

Gosh, I love a man in Uniform
Lord know the one I have ain’t shit
He tells me he tries hard most all of the time
But with a bank like that,
He must have quit

I told him what I wanted
And much to my surprise
He went away that morning,
From 9am to 5
And he did so the day after,
and the one after that
Then he’d gotten a raise
And a company hat
Then he started buying me brand names clothes
Like baby phat

“Oh baby oh baby
You spend like a boss
Take me to your work,
Hold my hand
So I’m not lost”

And I hope you can imagine the pride that I swallowed
When we stayed on the bus
Past google,
and a law firm
To McDonalds

The matching hat and shirt he got
… I should have read the signs
Looking back,
I think that was the point where my teeth started to grind
Red and yellow blotches
Covered my vision,
Filled my mind
And I guess that’s when he noticed
That I hadn’t taken it in kind

“This is it!” He exclaimed,
” you don’t even know what you want!
You told me a uniform, so that’s what I went and got!”

And I tried to explain,
What I had intentionally meant
But with the words “fuck yo shit”
I’m sot sure my message was sent

I hopped on the next bus
With him at my heels
And the only way to describe what happened next is;
Aaah the ‘feels’

So one thing lead to another
And another yet again
And then at some point the police were called
I’m not sure exactly when

But my man was dragged away
He and that ugly outfit he had worn
Telling me I lost a good man
His eyes were manic, I could have sworn
But a strong officer held him tight
So I was safe and sound, and warm
Damn, that officer…
Did I mention that I love a man in uniform?