making space
finding grace
for two,
the three of us
divided by trinity.
lifes place
without waste,
just the union of particle.
change be not strange to evolution,
persistence be not resistance,
struggle is transformation.
my reflection in your face,
barely a trace,
yet i am here.
a thousand years gathered
to this moment.
temporary finality,
imposible ending,
continuing through space,
a race away from time.
by K. Osei
no matter how i try,
i can never do justice to a tree,
at least,
not how mama could see.
the way the sun reflects the sheen
of their assorted hair styles,
such calm creatures i’ve ever seen.
harmonious and ease,
a symphonic flow
of morning breeze.
they never complain,
surrender tears
to ax, borers or pain.
the artistic, often animated patterns of light
and shadow at play as scintillant streams
twist and shimmy through the canopy,
coloring the canvas floor.
never do they cease to bring forth
their prostrated crops
of geometrical shape each season,
habitually chased by grand conspiracy
of sublime blush at summer’s end,
until their ever graceful death.
my perception is unreliable,
less i behold myself.
how splendid you are,
even in your death
i am covered and warm.
you extend my sight and ear,
with vision to hear.
by K. Osei
i know where God lives.
in the room at the top of the stairs,
open the door, you’ll see him there.
in the morning he do yoga — writing and shit,
sometimes he travel right where he sit.
i still see him, though he’s not there,
just a hologram fully aware.
a window in the room
open to reality.
when i look, i’m not sure
if i see him, or i see me.
yesterday he smoked a j
and did taiji the short form way.
through a crack in the door
i watched him fling,
twist and step with Cheng Man-ch’ing.
i know where God lives.
he’s in the room at the top of the stairs,
just open the door, you’ll see him there.
he loves to laugh without a grin,
delights his own presence,
redeems his own sin.
on a tree i hung,
he watched me die,
then shouted hallelujah
as i cried.
he wiped my tears
and tried my eyes,
then gently commanded me — rise!
by K. Osei
we are who we are said i;
is the saddest hymn sang to me.
relinquish hope and give up try,
for this is your destiny!
never nay ever was the voice
in response to thee.
i am who i choose,
all else is pretend – you see?
imagination is the real,
of all that can truly be.
by K. Osei
mama’s dirt floors
were always clean
mama was like dust,
she settled on everything,
at dawn’s first light
mama could be seen.
light and easy
she floated on air,
like tiny specs
mama was everywhere.
things we couldn’t see,
like behind the old clock,
mama was there.
even when something
i thought i knew –
couldn’t hide,
mama was there too.
mama never worked with no haste,
like bread, and trees,
mama produced no waste.
by K. Osei
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