This week's Poet of the People is Xavier Khalil. 

A few months ago, Xavier showed up at Cool Beans for Mind Gravy, he sat quietly in the back, eventually, he shared on open mic and kept coming back for more. He made friends with the regulars and felt confident enough to have his own 30 minute feature. 

Xavier is a kind and passionate poet with a voice that needs to be heard and I am blessed to have him in my creative life.

~Al Black

Xavier Khalil is a native of Atlanta, Georgia. He has been involved in the arts from the age of 8; participating in oratorical contests in elementary school. He moved to Beaufort, South Carolina to receive better education opportunities and lived with many family members while attending high school. Creative writing has been a lifelong hobby for Xavier, and more recently has found his love for poetry in 2023. The 22-year old's poetry reflects the essence of the Black queer experiences surrounding themes of spirituality, love, activism, and life's quarrels with grief and addiciton. These passions are further extended in Xavier's work through his podcast Choosing Joy and various social media platforms where he constantly advocates for humanity. He is an alumnus of the University South Caolina Aiken where he earned his Bachelor of Arts in Communicaiton with a minor in Sociology. Currently Xavier is working on his Master in Higher Education and Student Affairs degree at the University of South Carolina in Columbia." 

“Meet Me”

Meet me at the coffee shop

Across the street from the Horseshoe –

Park by the meter

And, I’ll meet you at 2

This scene fits us

Is there an us?

Is it too early to discuss?

Maybe an idea we both want

I trust.

No matter I just want you –

I mean be with you –

I mean experience you –

Wait.

I just enjoy your company

Is all

How we engage

In conversation

And swoon as each other talks

Its cute

How we banter

Going on about psychology

(Stanza 5)

Sociology, biology

Theology, geography

Nationalities

Whew its…

And did you say

Music?

You be the R&B

To my neo-soul

You go On & On

Like Erykah’s songs

Making my soul glo

You’re “Golden” boy

Like Jill

Caught constantly

Giving me the feels

And chills and thrills

From Black history

To Mariah vs Whitney

Singin’ lil songs

Hearing you, “Say My Name”

Can we admit we’re

(Stanza 9)

The Children of Destiny?

After this please

Let there be more

Don’t let it end

Once you close your car door

After this

Come see me

Not in my visions or dreams

Comes see me, physically

Come see me, again, spiritually

Strip me emotionally

Nigga come see about me!

And allow me to be naked – fully

Sorry, if that’s too much

If, it was too strong

I’m sorry

I promise I wont do any wrong

Don’t run, please…

I’ll just be your friend

I know that love’s too scary

And we don’t want this to end

(Stanza 13)

So, I’ll just be your friend

May the love of our bond

Grow true

 And organic

But until then…

Meet me at the coffee shop

Across the street from the Horseshoe

Park by the meter on Monday

And I’ll meet you at 2. 

"Bridges and Railroads" 

Driving across the Broad River Bridge

It’s so different now

So the same

So opposite simultaneously

Chocolate neighborhoods

Replaced by golf courses

Shops for mommas and poppas

No replaced by corporations

Because they bought someone

Reparations

Thanks to high taxation

Chocolate faces

Moved to other chocolate places

Across the bridge – 2 or 3 –

On the other side of train tracks

2 or 3

Only for suited giants

To do it again

Killing off the wildlife

Destroying their land

Mossy, ancestral trees

Collapse

No care for the significance

Removing black bodies

Further from themselves

Because you pull them

By the root

It’s now deer season

But the bullets aren’t hitting

The right young Buck.

The shooter is jailed

While the true hunter

Mounts the bodies on the walls

Using the black bodies

And the brown/red skin

As rugs and mink coats

As you dwell in a home

Erected in a plot of land

That was once their own

Ignorance of the beautiful

Culture and bodies that inhabit

Are encouraged

Looked at as anomalies

Oddities of black magic

and spirituality

Not realizing

These beings are

Slowly being ostracized

Tantalized by outsiders

Who see their existence

As profit

And the lost minds

Haven’t a clue of what to do

About it.

Displaced

Shoved into obscurity

In massive fish tanks

Of barren yards

And unstable mobile homes

Chocolate people

Are losing their way.

In their home

Didn’t think I’d see the day. 

“Brown Boys Feel Fluorescent”

I make you feel like

A white boy?

Some safety

Visibility

Security

You adore from me?

I validate you

And give you innate freedom

In tandem

Denying myself that same

The right to exist

And be cherished

For the humanity

In your brown body

I make you feel

Like a white boy

Brown boy

I cherish

You make me feel like

Like a spirit

You make me feel like

Like a spirit

So big

Infinite

Free and confined

You give me space to be wild

You to have grand emotions

To obsess

To express

Display feelings

Be passionate

But, in making

Me feel my spirit

Makes me feel

Trapped in this human experience

I inherited

This one that you hardly

Acknowledged

This body you barely

Touch

This figure

That houses the very spirit

You freed

I make you feel

Like a white boy?

Not spoiled, but entitled –

Deserving.

Privileged.

You make feel like –

Like a spirit

Not holy; certainly not evil

Just too free

Too astral

Unfortunately

You only see that

The reinforcement of

Perfection

Not giving a human connection

I am guilty for this

I am merely a reflection

Of how you view

What is perfected

So in making you

Feel like a white boy

-protected-

You make me feel like Spirit

-easily neglected-

Picking and choosing

When to feel my presence

Yearning for me

But so displeased by

Your imperfection

My love you constantly

reject it

Oddly, I cannot be mad

At you

Because seeing my spirit

Means the “white boy”

In you wants to protect

Protect my pride

Protect my freedom

Protect my ambiguity

 My duality

Protect me from your truth

Protect my vibrant spirit

From being dimmed by you

Brown boy

Blue bird

Look at your reflection

In the river

Let the water cleanse your feet

It’s not whiteness you feel

It’s a freedom you’ve been denied

The freedom that heals

A freedom I had no clue

I could even give

As I look

My spirit

Shines outside this skin

It glows outwardly

And vibrates through me

Within

Standing parallel

Across the street

We a re on

You and me

Living separately

The Spirit you see

In me

Is shared

We share it with Thee

So, I thank you

Thank you for helping me to see

Brown boy I made feel safe

Thank you for recognizing

My grandness

The protection

The freedom

The privilege I afforded

It didn’t make you feel “white”

It finally made things

Feel to a degree

Alright

And you important

Hand to hearts

Eye to eye

Soul to soul

Brown boys make

each other feel free

protected and safe

Brown boys dance

In the dark

In the nighttime

Becoming jovial

-effervescent-

Transcends them

To fluorescence

Brown boys made

Each other feel like glowing

Bright, white

Hues

I never made you

Feel like a white boy

I simply made you feel your spirit, too.

“It’s Foggy Outside”

It’s foggy outside

In these times

There are blurred lines

Where cars and worlds

 Collide

It’s cold and wet

Out here

Be careful

Don’t slip

The weather makers are

Praying on your downfall

Our downfall

If you will

They want hit and runs

They want blame

They want pointing fingers

Stinging scars and burns

Cause by their flames

It’s foggy outside

Be careful walking

Through these low clouds

Be careful stalking

For your next meal

Stay low to ground

Look out for your neighbor

Don’t hurt each other on your prowl

In these times

Wanting to thrive

What a luxury to be

Alive

Right now we just survive

Until the sun dies

Behind the rain clouds

The sun still shines

But the time we once had

Is no longer on our side

Its of essence

And its precious

As the fog children

Walking in the midst

Of a global depression

It’s cold

It’s foggy

It’s rainy

It’s nasty

Barely sunny

It’s the time slipping

Down the road

And through our fingers

Please feel the hope

The faith

That still lingers

Don’t be fooled by

The occasional peak

Of sun during dark day time

Don’t let the warm day time

Dry up your inside

Don’t let confusion make

Your temperature rise

Be looking out the window

Because its foggy outside