Two from the Road: Wilmington, Delaware

Image by Michelle Denise Jackson

Black Cicada

Can not a life expectancy
Not revolution

I am

I am hunkering
Feelers as nails
So world wills me

Though this
I will not

Black bird
From white ant to
My make up
Who will hear my song?

I will tell you the heat
In the crease of oak shoulder
As loud as I want to be

That drumming
Against Delaware humidity
Opening up

As I bend my thorax
A black star
Shed my shell

To sing my song
Of hiding
I have risen after 31 years
Red beard
Black Cicada

Bluegrass Return in Quatrain
(After Greg)

I listen to the wind that obliterates my traces…

Can’t wash away my
& Wind
Obliterate this soul Lord

I cannot rid this skin Kentucky
I prodigal son
I native son
Bluegrass State

Who doesn’t like flowers
My taste buds
Baring yellow tulip flowers tang
Fiddle trees

To the next generation
& Daughter to pass on my healing story
Looking for my new reflection baptismal oil
Into Sea Kentucky I go plunge

Cigarette burns blue too damn fast
Never sounded sweeter
Sylvester Weaver’s laments
Father –Goddamn

Family a lifetime burden
Obliterates my soul
In my new world
Memory notes/wind travel

The older know better than to dream
To learn who they are
Youths burning desire
Better suited for younger bones

Trying to forget these roots
Brother flower into father
Bluegrass Louisville pain
Oceans Bloom

I still remember
My pain vow
Soul yoke blue
Pricking four string guitars

Standing with me shimmering
Some good memory
Eclipse Kentucky Plight
But Ancestry

Now for Sister
Only for Daughter
Now I go back
Home has no heart quarter

Like a soul record
Hitting home
Onto screens of cigarette smoke

I never intended to go back

By Charlie Snyder

Charlie Snyder, 32, is a poet from California. Currently, he is working on a manuscript called "Blue Inclination," which delves mostly into his personal life and experiences while living in Southern California. Charlie now lives in Murcia, Spain.