Ed Toney

Ed Toney, poet, writer and chemist born in Queens NY, currently resides in Chesapeake, Virginia. He was a member of the Hot Poets Collective poetry writers group, and has work published in African Voices, the chapbook Of Fire of Iron (published by The Hot Poets collective), a featured essay in Young Black Men’s Perspective, poems published in Mosaic, Blue Lyra Review, One Breath Rising Crossroads Anthology, Brooklyn Poets Anthology, and  Embrace of the Bone Crusher, an anthology presented by Great Weather for Media. Ed is updating and re-editing a chapbook entitled Gut level, along with his first full poetry manuscript to be titled, Nicks in the Tongue.

Full Moon

Did you see that smile
upward bend of the brow
looks like Jack Nicholson
in that Shining movie
those teeth were so yellow
then so virgin white
that old man’s face revitalizes
by the gleam of a hiding sun
silver and platinum beams bounce
from the skin of his bald head
and he grins heavy
however, his charm wreaks havoc
blinds the stars
yanks the gut of the sea
swells our passions
like helium in birthday balloons
horny and sin frolic on his playground see-saw
in a darkness where no one can see
radiance and glow are his eyebrows, starched
he rises slow, with no use of a cane
or walker, girth overwhelming
gloom stains on that pot belly
his hug is close but far away
like losing a loved-one
and earth cringes underneath his backside
that smirk will swallow the sky
and somewhere there will be a miracle
a quiet death, a senseless murder
a dream slightly short of truth
a tooth under a pillow
a gunshot in an alley
a dance, a kiss,
a bomb explodes
tears and grief
elation and good sex
masturbation and restless sleep
a howling, a prayer
a nightmare, a rape
as night seduces the
mystery of black
and regardless of all this
the full moon will always smile
a forgiving gleam of light

Desperation

My clothes soak with guilty sweat
tongue drips black oil
saliva of bitter lies
a dust ridden throat
gives excuses for dead flowers
when sorry is a desert, I reside
I trample, foot-less
without a spine
a mangled of appendages
burnt scarlet—brown part
with a saliva I thirst to drink
I scream to you, but to no avail
it’s a painful whispering plea
with my eyes on your back
like leeches to suck you dry
you sometimes crawl to me
now you run from me
every chained link breaks
rust on my ventricles
my words covered in moss from bayous
pathetic looks, devote stained eyes
I am losing you, begging time
for a backward day
weak muscle rips from that crimson pump
that’s lost its beat and I sink
an unforgiving quicksand
someplace less than hell
where snakes call my name
coil around my arms and pull
no traction for truth
no last-ditch rescue cliche
nothing but false acumen
deep from the deceitful bowels
of our lost time
and I just might be saved 

if you just turn around

Life Inside my Soul

I bite an apple, the worm inside
laughs in half and smiles down the playground slide of my throat
tastes like a sweet coke a cola gummy. . .
The moon resides in my skull, illuminates the dark side of my medulla
it knows love, its reasons and regrets at the same time
The craters are deep, there is alien life here and knows what my tears are made of
There is an ocean in my heart, it generates the tide of my feelings, my passions and desires crimson waves crash against the beaches that bare no exotic names
Full of exponents of fish, infinite rainbow colors, hidden treasures deep in my ventricles
and with every new beat, unfortunately there's erosion
My spirit is like a child, its cries when it hungers, crawls in exploration
laughs when tickled, runs when excited, delighted and grows when encouraged
soars new heights as life’s truths nourish from every unconditional touch
Life develops extraordinary in my soul, cause there it
resonates and replenishes defined.