The Visionaries Poetry Collection: Camerian Williams
This is the fifth and FINAL piece of the Visionaries Poetry Collection, curated by Shakilya Lawrence for National Poetry Month. This series centers on the poet, their work, and background, highlighting the messages they want to spread with their projects.
“Writing and crafting a poem is equally both art and therapy for me. As I cast my mind into emotions and circumstances of what I’m writing about, I inevitably dive into myself. The art of it is penning that human experience in a way that when read or spoken, brings it to life.”
A Compilation of Intimacy, Sexuality, & Transformation
Tuesday.
She tasted like morning.
Not like apples, sun-kissed by the sun but like the peach
The Georgia peach ripe from my Sun, I think it was her lip gloss.
She tasted like morning.
It was as if her Night had worked knowing the He and I were hungry for her essence.
Like honey dripping from the spoon. She took her throne.
She smelled like bath and body works.
Not sweet pea, She was beyond that.
But like She bathed in the love of herself and the affection that I only gave to people who knew the little boy on the inside of me.
She smelled like body—natural woman and fresh haircuts, Prada, and memories of dancing among the clouds where she used to be.
I was high off Her.
I was and She became.
This poem explores the sensuality and sexuality of a Black Man and a Black Woman. Painting a vague picture of submission and dominance of both man and woman.
untitled.
Lights danced on the ceiling.
He ran his thumbs over the emptiness in my mouth.
Jumping from bone to bone only for his skin to feel itself
and what was left of his breath.
It was as if that space offered him a peek into the universe.
Tight-lipped, I observed his body,
straddling awe and wonder.
This poem illustrates the intimacy and vulnerability between Black men. It captures the few moments of physical and emotional connection after sex.
waiting.
new leaves
bear their fruit
and sunrises light the sky
yet dusk sits with me.
as a friend who comforts.
birds chirp
and the forest is alive.
the wind blows and trees dance,
yet the stillness of the night
is my portion.
the moon, silent and still, is my portion.
This poem delves into the frustration and emotion of the waiting process. The contrast of rebirth, newness, and growth to stillness, sameness, and plateau draws a unique parallel.
“I feel like a painter when I write. I see the colors and textures of the words and how they feel together, how they look together. I imagine the emotion and reaction of those who’ll read it. I want it to connect — deeply. ”
Camerian Williams is a Black American poet, writer, orator, musician, and artist from Fayetteville, North Carolina and currently lives in the RDU area as a prospective attorney. He crafts pieces that explore the humanness of people — making emotions, thoughts, realities, and worlds tangible. Nothing is off-limits.