Words don’t escape me
I let them out silky
and smooth like warm honey
that erupts from my fingertips
and I take a lick
enjoying the thickness of my
as my eyes close in the pleasure
suckled from my

Words don’t escape me
I let them linger
and spin like fresh cream
that puddles on the page
and I dip my fingertips
in for a taste
eyes closed in the pleasure
that my words bring.

My words flow like
milk and honey
in a land of plenty and still
there is never enough
of the pleasures given
to the fingertips that dip
into my mind
and pen the words
I taste.

The warm night air was fragrant
The cool breeze softly blew
Stars twinkled in a sky so clear.

To a resting virgin servant
A pure young maiden
The angel Gabriel appeared.

“Fear not, sweet young Mary
God finds great favor in you.
For to you a child shall be born.

The holiest of infants
A kingdom among kings
God’s only begotten son.”

“I’m not worthy,” said Mary,
“but I question not his will.
His word I shall obey.

He will provide for my people
A Savior for all mankind
God’s blessing upon this day.”

Mary rose from her slumber
And knelt to pray
Her task seemed great and hard.

A young virgin maiden
And her humble carpenter husband
Had been chosen to raise the Lord.

The villagers stared
They doubted her truth
She had clearly broken a vow.

They even questioned Joseph
His honor destroyed
His heart filled with doubt.

Until one warm night
Gabriel reappeared
“Joseph, listen with God’s word Mary pleases.”

To her, a son
The child of God will be born
And he shall be called Jesus.”

To Bethlehem they travelled
Over harsh and terrible roads
Joseph, Mary, and the unborn child.

To the land of his fathers
The many sons of David
A census to be compiled.

The time had come
The inns were filled
No place for the babe to lay.

A side street stable
Where the animals dwelt
And a manger filled with hay.

The wise men came
The prophesy they’d heard
Great wisdom from afar.

Even the shepherds
Resting in the fields
Could not ignore the bright star.

On that holy night
That first Christmas night
The world rang out the joy.

The Messiah had come
Peace to the whole world
Salvation in the baby boy.

Of a nation built
on the backs of a race
and a race won
on the back of a nation

a time in history when
we give THANKS
to our elders,
the marching leaders,
non-violent fighters
and silent movers
of Civil Rights’ barricade.

a time in history when
we say THANHS
to our elders,
the ones that
shed their multicultural blood
in our precedent
and on our path
to this day.

America voted and spike
to a world that listened
hearing our united cry
Multicultural blend of patriotism
believes in a gentleman
reflected in our skins
and ideals.

Our new leader
a dreamer that believed
we could
because we counted…
we were a part of his
story and he is a part of
a history being told as it is written
spoken to our children
with a broad future
Yes, we can!
Tes, we can
become anything together
as King dreamed
and we now sing.


I am quick
to express myself
the haste of it feels more passionate
than if I waited a moment longer
negates depravity
and my emotions are of the utmost importance
so I don’t hesitate
when I say that you really
piss me off and
are amazing
make me sick and
complete me
have no idea and
know me so well
should leave me be and
need to hold me

words uttered so quickly
that they don’t require time
because they exist in the moment’s feeling
not always perfected by
a second thought
and I am not perfect either
I am the juxtaposition of fire, honey, storm, and flight
and I don’t always know how I am, or what I am, or where I may land
from the journeys that I take
but I love you within
and without the error of my ways
never changing and never the same
I feel the words as they breeze around me and through me
racing, spinning on the edge of being
unruly, wild, and liberated
and the world feels perfectly tilted because
I am quick
to express myself
in love


No salutes or flag bearers or anthems
or cherished combat boots or gleaming metal tags

or outrage

for the lost ones
who were the bravest
and the mighty
just trees and ropes and whips
and dogs and bullets and rape

and mutilation

for the sold ones
striped of the loved ones
bred for the new ones

behold the solders of the many failed
yet never abandoned battles
for the right to own
their bodies and to keep
their families

I consider my fathers to have
been the bravest
and the mighty
royal warriors by blood-right
no auction price could ever truly place
value on the brave and the mighty
fathers, sons, and brothers who lost battles
but won their freedom
and stood as brave and mighty men
only to be bound and hung
by the heartless

I consider my fathers to have
been the bravest
and the mighty
to know that living was hard
and death wasn’t the easiest
but in the land of the brave
it sure was the freest


We hold hands and clutch
tight with our fingers sweaty and
in the delicious fear
of being caught
at first love’s kiss
that risk of wanting a taste of my
cherry-glossed lips
draws you in closer
and my heart races not only
at the warm smell of your skin and not because
soon people will begin to pass our corner
wanting their few moments alone
with the risk of first love’s kiss
but because I am ready
to test my technique
(practiced on the soft side of my fisted hand)

I think you hesitate in want of
someone seeing you steal
the sweetness from me
pride in boys is tempting
but the silver-braced smile
and the sweet smell of my cherry lip-gloss
are too much for you
and you lean in
and kiss me
with the swiftness
of a moment
turned memory
and the risk becomes
the worth
of a first love


It’s the year of the light-skinned!
No wait,
the era of the dark-skinned!
let’s all agree that Black has always been
Your recent pride does not make it…
Black is not a trend
and cannot be emulated or retroactively acquired
by anyone.
Though, acknowledge that my attire and hair IS

Thank God and Glory for your Black beauty,
ladies and gentlemen
my melanin and your melanin
both kissed by the same sun
our varying degrees are shades of love
made by sunlight and
an open sky
raise that face to mother Sun
so that everything in nature can see
we too are the flowers
blooming in a rainbow
of brown beauty
burnt umber,
and all the shades in between.
I am so blessed
that Black
is beautiful.


I am not
without understanding.
I need you to know that.
I begin to speak and you don’t
You say, you see me. See, that’s
the thing with you visually
audio impotents.
You see me
but you don’t hear me.
I’m speaking words so deep and proving my point so clear
that if this conversation was the Atlantic Ocean,
I’d be the light shining within the
Mariana Trench
and you’d be
the shadow of a child’s
plastic sailboat.
Conversely lacking the stimulation
that I need.
You say that you see me
and you smile
and I smile
and I pretend that what you say is intelligent
and funny
and that the sound of your voice
isn’t like a hum of a refrigerator.
So that when I speak
you’ll listen and not be afraid
of the depth of what I really have to say
I’m not a vision, I’m the visionary.
I’m not a joke, I’m the belly rumbling
I am all of the thoughts
and expressions
At the bare minimum,
a woman’s essence.
So, don’t be afraid of what I say
when I answer
what you ask.
You see, I’ve been
waiting to be heard,
to be understood.


Frank Solanki

If you want to be a hero well just follow me


Memoir style writing from a rainy island in Alaska.


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