Glorianna
The eyes of Glorianna
Look deep into my soul
To research my intentions
She finds that I only intend to love her
Glorianna the beautiful
She was born of the beautific
And I was blessed to be in the presence of her beauty
My arms were her cradle
My heart was her lullaby
As she lie there
Lost in my blackness
We met in silent battle
With equally inquisitive stares of wonder
In this we could not fail
To succumb to one another
And there was no wound more fatal than our goodbye
But I have lived on
Thrived on the memory of holding Glorianna in my arms
-- Carlos "Sundiata Ibn Islam" Brown
2018 oct 18
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2016 mar 4
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2013 nov 4
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2013 nov 4
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2013 nov 4
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2013 nov 4
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Replies (1)
Thank you so much for your beautiful poem about who I can only assume is your daughter, whom you miss very much. I am researching Alcatraz and stumbled on this prison poetry. I want to share your poem with my 7th graders; I hope you don't mind. I think the imagery is absolutely beautiful, and you have captured such a beautiful and vivid moment. Thank you for sharing.