Posted in life, love, Poetry

Buzz

I drank my liquor too fast

and now my chest is on fire

but doesn’t burn as hot

as my body does

for yours…

You’re a particular kind

of sexy

the kind that goes on and on

that I can taste in my mouth

hold in my soul

touch with my fingertips –

not even rum can

take the credit forย this buzz.

Tripping over my own

lust;

I haven’t completely figured out

how to forget myself

with you.

But…

it won’t take me long

to learn.

Posted in life, love, Poetry

Masterpiece

Nothing sexier
than the way a pen writes,
its strokes
slide so smoothly over lines and angles;
Gliding confidently around circles and curves.

Skipping over letters
and slopes
tiptoeing calmly
through numbers and punctuation.

How powerfully it dots i’s,
how brusquely it crosses t’s…

Sinking deep into
and between the lines,
So expressively it conveys
the writer’s vibe
moment to minute.

Fluctuation in frequency
slightly alters
each hump, bump, twirl, curlicue, arc,
dip, loop, point, and tip…

I’m imagining
your hands caressing my body
your tongue having its ways with my curves –
navigating my silhouette;

You holding me,
touching me,
sculpting me –
A glowing magnum opus;

You appreciating me
like I’m the greatest masterpiece
you’ve ever written.

Posted in life, love, Poetry

Spelling Tests

I feel it when you’re spelling my name;

Trying to bend me to your will.

Keep me stagnant

glass is easier to shatter when held still.

I feel you drawing my own whims against me,

thinking you’ll scatter me to the winds.

I know you want me to succeed

only in making you happy

and plod along or completely fail

at all else.

You’d rather I know your name much better

than I do myself.

And you’re not the only one – from many directions

do these slighted attempts come.

Control,

in control

but you have none for your own self…

No, it’s from all those around you

whose lives remain in your stealth.

It’s not love, or kindness, you seek in others;

But total destruction of the meek, and their brothers…

And how dare you offend kismet

Gorging your strength of perception

on another’s weaknesses.

Enemies always linger –

No one notices the snake until after

it’s already bitten their finger.

 

06 October 2020
Posted in life, love, New Work, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Identity.

Don’t call me black,

Call me by my name,

call me by my humanity.

“Black” is one of the many colors

found in the crayon box,

the ink of a pen,

the darkness of shadow;

a shade devoid of character or light –

Yet, I am full of light.

Colors are ideals driven by perception,

Color is only surface.

Pigmentation runs deep.

The green of grass and in the leaves of plants

are not surface colors.

When they get wet,

their green doesn’t wash away;

it gets brighter

it is part of them.

Strip the bark from a tree,

it’s still brown

or shades of it

because brown is within its

nature.

My pigment doesn’t wash away or rub off –

my melanin is my crowning glory.

Neither of these are identifiers –

and I’m not simply a color.

Yes, I am melanated,

But…

I am a person, a being,

of presence, of energy,

of spirit.

I am vital, valuable.

I am adequate.

I am wombman, mother,

I am love itself.

I cannot be classified,

I have class, and…

I am a class all my own.

These “identifications” only exist

to isolate me, separate me,

Invalidate me.

Don’t call me black,

Don’t call me brown,

don’t call me by what you see

on my surface.

Don’t you dare…

I’m more than just that,

I’m more than what is visible.

My layers are their own nature,

not validated simply by a color name.

They are a tangle of blood and bone,

muscle and vein,

emotion and thought…

of pain, and of love.

I bleed when I am cut

I cry when I am hurt

or happy.

I sleep when I am tired

I eat when I am hungry.

I drink when I have thirst;

I imagine, I ideate, I innovate.

I have goals and dreams.

I achieve, and I fail.

Am I so different from

any other being of humanity

that my identity

should be systematized by

a single word,

a color, no less,

a hue?

Is that all I am?

To many, maybe.

To those who know me, love me,

They understand there is more to me

than what the eye sees.

Call me by my name,

Acknowledge my identity.

Call me who I am –

Not what you perceive me as.

Posted in life, love, Poetry

Soul Muse(ic)

I listen to music

that arouses my curiosity

of

how a song would feel

on my skin

and how your frequency

is often the muse

to my soul.

I think your touch

is

my favorite song,

probably.

Posted in life, love, Poetry, Random

One Track Binds

This one track on your playlist

shreds my heart to tatters

and I dread the days

your mood’s on

shuffle.

You said

You’re  not into my

genre;

One of your favorite vibes

is a spoken sonnet

of liquid love –

[And] now I know you meant me.

The binds of contradiction dig deep.

I overstand (here) holding

pieces of me that I tried

to give to you

and you rejected

with unkind excuses

and passive untruth.

29 August 2020
Posted in life, love, Poetry, Random

Horcrux

I pressed my soul somewhere
between the pages
of this book,
Like the most delicate of flora
we seek to preserve –
It’s a favorite of mine.

I wrote the stories
of my heart
into its chapters
the ink’s bled deep
into its fibers…

I can recite every word
from memory
and recall
my favorite phrases and passages;
Sometimes with laughter
other times with tears.

But it means nothing to you,
my horcrux,
because when you open it,
the pages are blank
and dry
and you don’t understand
the entire universe you’re missing out on
by not reading between
the lines you can’t see.

My book of light
doesn’t shine very brightly
in the fog –
it’s only a beacon
that burns away the darkness within
The shadows I vanquished long ago.

You’ll remain illiterate
if you obscure yourself in
the fading light
of others’ daydreams…
Misgivings always haunt
our nightmares.

Didn’t you know
reading in the dark
is bad for your eyes?

Posted in life, love, Poetry

Love Song

You always remind me of

those old love songs

we listened to

as we drove around

the city

warm sunlight and summer breeze on our faces

talking about life

and how we imagined

our future selves.

The way our smiles outshone the sun;

even as it set

and our words were the stars

lighting the quiet sky

that reminded us of the time

we lost track of,

wild and bright and neverending…

we were so young

back then

but the music we lived

and loved

and made

together

bound us to

the old souls

we share.

Our kiss

eternal supernova

flames and color

and light.

Our laughter strikes the sweetest chords.

You’ve always been

my favorite love song.