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When Floods Collide

I am a flood 

I do not taste prejudice cups of coffee or

the bloating eye ignored by sunlight

But one spicy bean soup steaming hot and

bowled in smoked glass cupped hands

warming ingredients for my winter

ailments – bashing, blood, and bruise

Rasped howling slashes cursing exploration’s

intervention to stop boiling angers

Where hated orchids rooted in old swamps

spit on my face

spit on my race

I am the rain-crying murder

louder than a flood flashing

Ripping my faith foundation

Forgotten by the death of war

I am a flood

 

For dVerse Open Mic Tuesday

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10 thoughts on “When Floods Collide

  1. dang henry…what a strong voice in this…a collision it is…love the not tasting prejudice cups …

    spit on my face

    spit on my race

    I am the rain-crying murder

    louder than a flood flashing

    Ripping my faith foundation… just dang..fine write

  2. this is jaw-dropping gorgeous. bloating eye to spicy bean soup in…cupped hands. the various body parts coming together in contrast. face. race. i am enjoying reading this and observing how the words strike at truth, over and over. ~jane

  3. whew man this is quite the rip…from spit on my face on it picks up to a wicked pace and is really hard hitting…i dont taste prejudice, like that too as a flood does not care your status or race it just is…

  4. Henry! This is angry, fierce and just fantastic! I love this voice…it is strong, it is passionate and it has got my own pen pulsing…thank you!

  5. Semaphore / Samuel Peralta says:

    Some of the best poetry is emotional at its core, let loose without consideration or constraints.

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