Her dark brickwork eyes spoke Houston 

Without question 

Undeniably coffee brown 

She stopped traffic like loaded rush hour rain 

. . . Stood out like the pregnant skyline 

scraping the ashen clouds 

She needed no attention 

Her ginger skin magnetized 

…

Quiet Like a Book           #45

Quiet like a book 

She holds a turn of pages 

closed and waiting to open 

on their own 

They need a hand to ease the bind 
 

Ruby doesn’t read romance 

She’s a writer 

Her poems…

                                                                         


She wore her lipstick red without regret

Heaven was a simple place where quiet was kept

Savanna slept near a set of tatty railroad tracks,

each ran parallel . . . to and fro,

as if they knew in advance…

Black Shakespeare 

Somewhere 
underneath 
a forgotten rainbow 
a colored boy sighs 
fresh out of tries 
crosswise 
with the weight of postulating worlds 
pearling in his wide-eyed gaze 
betangled by an amusing maze of letters 
coffee stained sweater 
sky falling all

Truth buried shallow 

in a lost poem 

. . . born in a speed trap city 

. . .  grew up in a one-horse town. 

All he knew was hasty paper. 

It blew in the agile wind like thrown litter…

Luck Has Her Blushing T-shirt On 

Lucky has her blushing T-shirt on 

. . . seven doting stars in the night skies 

      One plunges from the corner of my eye 

Lucky has her buoyant moon in orbit 

A baffling galaxy…

Let us burn a few Books! Are you down? 

Maybe we should burn some of the books too. You know . . . the books we had to read in primary and secondary school. The ones they, white educators, used…

What of a broken place, 

ceaseless actions of muted despair, 

. . . soundless in a crack’s somber crevice, 

shattered starless like windows struck by light 

reflecting from a murky mirror’s throw of shine 

floating on summer’s torrid air? 

What…

The Return of a Natural Poet 

Often in the literary world, there are times when the production of commercial works seep beyond the boundaries of authentic endeavors. The accomplishments of skilled writers go unnoticed by readers at large and are…

Hello 

            Like deep blue ocean 

as far as a stretch of eyes can see, 

Like swaying daisies in a field of laughing memories, 

Like your whisper ringing 'round my open head, 

I can't forget the first time you said 

hello. 

…

Self-reflection of a Writer: A Mini Conversation With Kool B.

By Wordville Staff Writer Bingo Lee

What make you so prolific B?

B says, "As a prolific writer, I find the challenge of maintaining a constant output of material daunting…

I’m in an amorous mood 
A feverish heart with nothing to prove 
A slice of crimson moon is near and full 
Fervent stars are in promise of twinkle 
The childish night has nothing to loose 
I’m in an amorous mood …