Peace beautiful people!

Dwayne B here. Just wanna show love for all the support and action I’ve been getting on the website as of late.


Folks are always looking for an outlet; safe place to express and feel free. Many have found the internet to be that place, but as time goes, the internet seems to be a more hostile place to share.

The fact that I can be free and express myself and support the artist I love and get the type of support I’ve been receiving… that means the world to me.

So with that, thank you. If you want more poetry here, let me know. You want more crochet, let me know. You want more info on the infinigrind family, let me know. I want this to be a conversation; a place to build the collaborations and support when need.

I love all y’all.

-Dwayne B! Bka the crochet kingpin.

#poetry – Same Train

Dear Sista across from me

Dressed in the dopest floral piece

With the hoop earrings,

You would never believe

what happened to me;

I was stabbed in the back by a friend.

No it’s OK,

’cause if things hadn’t gone that way,

We definitely wouldn’t be across from each other.

I can’t help but notice the long look on your face;

Were you also bitterly replaced?

Relieved of your duties as friend to another that you stood for,

Was up to no good for, and walked through hoods for?

Damn, could it be,

that possibly we are on this same train,

writing the same thing,

cause our situations are the same;

Desperately trying to eliminate the same pain,

from the same games, pouring down the same rain?

Oh, what did you say?

I’m sorry here’s your pen back.

#Poetry – Home of the Brave

Oh say can you see,

Over the blinding light,

That through rockets red glare,

We’ve been chosen to fight,

Can’t get any sleep, from the planes over head,

Not like I could anyway, for my eyes know bloodshed.

Plus the scent is still full,

All the soot and burnt flesh,

Getting airtime all day from an overly obsessed press.

In this time of distress what am I to do,

Get drafted, go to war, and get killed just like you.

Well you know I’m down for that.

To save this land of values,

Where else can I get stereotyped and racially,

Where you can cheat your way into office,

And be seen as fake and rude,

And not only screw the nation, but the interns too.

Where we can pass by the homeless to buy a pair of shoes,

On the way the pay for wrestling that we saw on Pay Per View.

Who am I not to rave at the chance to save the day,

For a nation who long ago would have had me be a slave.

I mean it is my blood and my pulse that pave the way,

To the streets and the railroads and how they are today.

But hey, that’s ok, for everyone shall meet their grave,

For the land o’ the free, and the home of the brave.

I wrote this piece in late 2001. It hurts my heart that for many of us it is still so incredibly relevant.

#thatpoetryhost – The Race


I am racing the sunset to my doorstep.
Jet in taxi
Last text message sent.
Smooth jazz oiling disjointed eardrums
As I prepare for a sandwich of clouds.

The water below resembles a
Sequined welcome mat;
A glittery invitation to follow the current course.


We pierce the fluff ceiling like light,
An easy lift through;
Much unlike security checks
or other man-made necessities.


I feel her on my back,
Sunshine has found me leading the way,
Blazing a trail to a place called home.

#thatpoetryhost – On Dancing


They asked me who you were,
Who the “she” must be on the other side,
The one receiving my poetry;
I’m a professional dancer,
Avoiding names like uneven pavement,
Stepping sure to save grace.
We are a pirouette,
A spin move,
A side step for inquiring eyes.
For me,
You have in all ways been a sure shot.
Freeze held strong in my view.

Keep dancing love, I’ll continue to keep pace.

#thatpoetryhost – Uncertainty


Is knowing where you need be,
What you want,
How the taste should be;
But the day is flavored fog.
When you are hitchhiking your way
With baggage twice the size your heart.
All you want is a hand,
But you can’t see a foot forward.
You think of the beauty you’ve seen;
You reminisce.
Was every path clear en route?
Was there an easy way to cross a river?
Were the snow capped peaks and hot springs not worth it?

Sprint through the fear.
Fantasy awaits across the fog.


#thatpoetryhost – Americana


We were American today,
We saw things and said
“How dare that be there?
I must conquer it
Climb it and know it’s beauty from all angles.”
A waterfall knows our foot print.
A glacier speaks our name in cracks and drips.
Our adventure knows no bounds.

We are blessed the land hasn’t exacted revenge.