I awaken to countless voices screaming,
From Damascus to Oaxaca, I can hear each one pleading,
For change, protection, freedom,
And here in the land of the free, what are we offering them?
Ode to Orlando
(Photo: taken 6/13 at the LGBT Center’s Rally/Vigil for Orlando at Los Angeles City Hall)
In the wake of our worst fears, we vow to remain unmoved
Devastated by a hate that seeks to destroy us, we vow to continue to love
6/2
I am a plethora of contradictions,
wild, free yet well-kept,
flawless prose in simple diction,
wide awake and hardly slept.
True warriors never share their stories,
but bury me in my armor,
forever doused in gold and glory,
the misanthropic little charmer.
Afternoon Rum (A Reflection)
We were just kids, with too many emotions and a lack of coping skills.
No parenting magazine could have prepared mom and dad for this.
Nothing is enough, when all you want is everything.
Eating sky and ocean in a ravenous binge.
Falling into n o t h i n g n e s s, drowning in our sins.
We were just kids.
Losing Battles: A (Brief) Spoken Word
Stigmatized – actions demonized long before we realize how far its gone. Now I sit back immersed in contemplation, conversations playing on loop in my mind. Critically analytical til it finally sinks into my mental – kind intentions wasted, whisked away to some foreign land where my tongue is deemed useless and your eyes don’t seem to comprehend. Though all wounds mend, some scars last forever. Perhaps we can talk this through, coffee on the 31st of never?
Pastures I
Thoughts uninterrupted,
Spine to the earth, surrounded by grass, leaves, all that ever was and ever will be,
Lost in misguided notions, ’til love finally found me.
I think back to lovers who’ve called me their ecstasy –
She let me course through her veins like torrential rains,
Until I flooded her whole with half-truths and ire.
Born in the fire, I kept taking what I wanted.
Short of light-hearted, there wasn’t much to deposit.
I wept not, when he and I finally departed.
Darker parts of my history could desimate the next man’s sanity,
Though I transcend past pain and vanity, ribs aching with reality –
Let us shed our cloaks, we joke but true lives hide behind each line,
You can pick a place, that’s fine, but now is always the right time.
(The Beach at Honfleur – Monet; photographed at LACMA)
Hayden Winston 
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