Captivity is freedom
Freedom is choice
Choice is salvation

I’m much too lucky to be where I am
Much too stupid to score as high as I do
Much too surly, to be so happy

I went to the sea, or as close to it as I could get
Divine wind brought me back
one more shipwreck in the bluegrass.
 
I’m not drinking salt water, when manna is all around.
I’m not looking for imaginary friends when so many are here
I’m right where I want to be
 
Providence isn’t just a place in Rhode Island
I think Providence is a Kentucky kind of state.

Four tiny biracial boys
In a roomy old kitchen
In a very large house
On a long island
In 1973

All four grew to adulthood,
But only three remain.
Still innocent,
The oldest was carried to Paradise
On a bullet from
A cop’s revolver.

Sofiah Sexton
June 30, 2015

I don’t believe God
Has a gender
Maybe both
No color
Maybe all
No religion
Whom would S/he worship?
No politics
Who would govern God?
I do not believe God
Is human
Who would have made God?
I believe God is Spirit
The Holy Spirit Which
Lives and Moves
And Has Being
In humans
And animals
And plants
And planets
And suns
And universes
Ad Infinitum
I believe Love,
As they say,
Makes the world go ‘round.

Sofiah Sexton, June 16, 2015

(list poem from MLK Day on I-275)

Old people short of breath
babies with wrist-sprain and joint-pain
urgent care close to surging tide
warm clime for personal injury
every exit a dolphin’s tail
Amish vacation just down the road
Dali’s whales beached on white sand
the treat of Magic Kingdom out of tricks
kind insurance for life’s mean surprises
lads go to college with army Sargent
light beer, testosterone on tap
filtered Kools say you can live to eighty
in the state of melanoma, Eskimos
     with naked toes
rainbow legs dangle from broken piers
gated homes for wealthy widows
poor women sugared to death
a public service where coke and pepsi
     clog your veins
role model gladiators
low rent alligators
two years of pineapple on the dole
rich kids cocooned from middle class yids
my god, Whitman touting i-pads
and Martin’s dream hoisted above Target.
Peaceful end at the toll on Sunshine Skyway

               inspired by a recent prompt, posted by Accents Publishing, suggesting that one take words and phrases from a book of poetry’s table of contents, create a title then take words and phrases from at least fifteen poems in that book and create a poem from there. I attempted this using Nikky Finney’s Head Off & Split.

The words pay your Indian Head,

were poised in the corner of her slightly parted lips

ready to be spoken as gently as if it was the last time,

more delicate than lace, more articulate than ivory keys,

by a woman with pom pom legs.

The elder woman, in her favorite sitting chair,

chewing down an old bone,

stated to her lover,

guillotined and gutted

would he be

if cheating took place

in the apple of the kitchen

blooming around her.

Her fists balled in sweet anticipation

for the moment when the three heads

united, loved and departed.

My aunt lived in the tallest building
in Paducah on the nineteenth floor
of public housing, curtains drawn,
hands wrung, mind strung
like a string just before it snaps

On her table a youthful shot
of her in thin dress and thick
Kelly hair and when I touched
the edge of the frame I thought
it must be someone else’s soul

And though I was mistaken
she lapsed from her body,
so alive and eager in the photo,
after Pearl Harbor, when voices
colored her dreams with gunmetal

El-low-weeze  they would say
El-low-weeze, Eat-your-peas

concussion: a haiku

you are the pond
plum tree touched by freezing winds
cracked rice bowl

To win your first World Cup in 16 years, take risks.
The rest of the world has come to play, too.

No more drumming your fingers during the anthem
or waving to the fans or kissing the goalpost.

Forget the last failed shot. Press high up the field
and dribble at defenders. Show swagger with each possession.

Make probing runs from varied angles. Be fast
and relentless and create surprises.

Have the face of an angel and tackle like a beast.

1. You can put quite a few miles on a pair of $2.53 Old Navy flip flops.

2. Just because you’ve been neighbors for four years……doesn’t guarantee……if they see you walking home, they’ll stop and give you a ride the rest of the way……even if it’s pouring rain!

3. Who needs the Camino de Santiago or Appalachian trails, when you can have an enlightening experience walking from 6th Street to Richmond Rd. ( Specifically Lake Park Rd……where you won’t find any Saints buried, but you’re sure to see at least one box turtle, and/or goose rotting on the side of the road.) 

4. Don’t smile at anyone on the bus, unless you’re prepared to listen to……how to install an engine in a 1986 Camero. ( I smile at everyone, and actually, this only happened once.)

5. You begin to see Lextran busses as some sort of mega-metal super heroes that save your day!

6. You can live without a car, and live to write a poem about it.