Forget about what they say for one second.
And hear what I’m saying.
I don’t care what society says about you,
I love you.
You are not dangerous.
You are my sisters and my protectors.
You’re no threat to society.
But you are a threat to my heart.
There’s just something about y’all that I can’t put my finger on.
I love you, my brothers.
No, you are not a ****.
You are a man of character and integrity.
You are a scholar and very determined.
You’re the doctors that heal our wounds.
You’re the teachers that give us more knowledge about ourselves.
You’re the soldiers that fight for your Queens, Princes, and Princesses.
You’re everything that you could and will be.
You were made as royal Kings.
Outspoken are you all.
Strong in every way I could imagine.
I love the tight afros y’all rock.
Your low cut with your tapeline makes you yummy.
Those dreads on you don’t stand a chance against our hands.
And please don’t get me started with y’all wearing braids.
Please stop following up with this backward society my brothers.
You can be anything you put your mind to.
Keep your head held high and make us and you proud.
Know that I as your sister as well as your Queen loves you.
We all appreciate and admire you all.
And don’t you think you’re anything less than a handsome, melanated King.

© 2018 Mia J

The king ordered silence,
No more song, no more dace,
No more daft scratching of that pen.

So I know just what I'll do,
I'll strike him over the head with my lute,
Then he will be silent too.

In darkness he rode to the castle gate,
With armor of steel and cloak of night,
Out pacing the daylight's flight.

He stormed through the castle door,
To slay the king,
Leaving the little prince in a pool of ****** dread.

Years pass, but in the still of night,
The prince chases after his father's killer,
Vengeance in his sight.

The rouge rode swiftly as the wind,
But the prince was nimble, catching him,
Then in his father's name, he did that man in.

On the highest peaks or the lowest darkest depths
In health and strength or broken, weak and nearly dead
In the midst of love and joy or rejected, exiled and unknown
In fullness of knowledge and assurance of the good will
Or bewildered and baffled, in perplexity stumbling and lost
With songs constantly singing, resplendent in angelic aura
Or utterly silent, crying beyond tears, covered in ashes of mourning
At the table, listened to and honoured by kings and princes
Or a starving slave forgotten and chained in the dank dungeon
But unseen in the flesh, unknowable unless heard,
is the Word, "I am with you," and that suffices for Life.

Wishes, I never said...?
Rolling tongues, admit appearances
Are deceiving, but purpose to lead...
Has an ear for a rainbow's chances

Rainbows lead to pouting voices...
Facing the stare, I make a quiet
Collective memory served; has choices...
The reagent of a house of colors, so bright

Star's that starve?
As the moment indicates...
Your rhyme for the silent, is another's liar...
Privilege behind a scare, finishes the irate

Races of fate, found in a valued youth...
Respite is to be, an awkward challenge
Of a time, that accuses you for couth...
Curses of final fear, are often to nearer mention

The fright in the rain
Told to sit, by a silver voice...
Sigh's and minding, the candor of pain
Will such a song, begin here with loyalty?

Does and doesn't...
Shame wear a passion's decision?
Deciding upon, a notorious lesson won't
Is a handful of salt, the only shared intuition?

Liberty, at all costs...
And a hill named only rage
That worth's the world, with hosts
Sent to a wish, I made...

Time be a liar's friend...
One step more
Like love and hates marvel, to lend...
The story of reach, is who's war?

Like-wise, bitten?
By love, to know a caring
Sojourn to little more, than a fitting
Response, to an eye out and sharing...

King's savior?
And the heat of irony to a new rule of came, desire
Welcomed staring else's, to a wish in a beauty, dour...
The reasons of courage and it's season, should be no denial

King's passion?
Long in truth's to defy a giving hour, subtle stilled
Is a many frustrated act, with poise to ask heed in kind?
Is a wish come by a strength unknown, the prayer of hell?

King's heaven?
Totaled by the court of decision, as a world goes by
Living the point, and realizing a marriage is god given...
Will we keep the obvious, or is oblivion the other side of this lie?

King's conscience?
Avid in roles and its herald, future coping
Has the remembered today, and peace, for when patience
Is but a stoney gift to liberty, to refuse a silence is hoping...?

Asking's decision?
Wealth of deeds reach, is in the embrace of sigh's, significance...
Worthiest in a days means, the name of solace and timid intuition
The pale trust of each other, earning the doles and shared justice, we named living chances...

I watched King Charles’ coronation this morning.
I’m not British and some things confused me.
For instance, they kept saying “The new king.”
New? The guy’s a boomer - at least - right?

Apparently, he is, at once, the oldest king
ever and the newest king yet.

Can we talk about the old lady with the crown?
The wrinkled one on the right of him, in white,
the crypt keeper, with genuine platinum hair.
At first, I thought that it was Charles’ mother.

But apparently, the old Queen died.
Has anyone looked into that?
Anyone who’s read Shakespeare knows
how brutal royals can be and successions,
over time, have earned a sketchy reputation.

Anyway, I wish him well. I wouldn’t want to live a life
where everyone around me moves up a notch
if something sudden and nasty happened to me.

The Coronation is
A
Royal
Pain
In
The
Cosmopolitan
****;
The crowning achievement
of
Royal Navel Gazing.
Chuck it (them) all.