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One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and Fell Off the Celibacy Wagon……

It is no secret that my journey in being and remaining celibate has been a struggle.  It is also one that I ultimately lost a few battles with. At the time it was so easy to succumb to my most primal of desires. Sex is like a drug because it activates the same hormone pathways in your brain. Naturally, I found myself guilt ridden and angry afterwards.  I had managed to maintain my self control for 18 months, only to flush it all and be back at square one in a matter of minutes. 

So why does it even matter so much?  Well first there is the understanding that my situation won’t change until I do.  In the process of deciding what things I yield some level of control over in life and what things I wanted to do differently,  having a sexual relationship very easily ended up on the chopping block. 

Even though I have a pretty healthy relationship with sex and my personal sexuality; I wanted a different relationship overall with sex itself.  Sex in many ways I felt clouded my judgement.  Being caught in the patriarchal paradigm of what it means in society for a woman to have the audacity to have had more than one partner can leave many a woman (myself included) locked in a less than favorable situation.  Therefore in an effort to master myself, and also find the traits I value most in a mate,  I put sex on the shelf. 

So I’m sure some of are wondering if it was worth it. All I can say to that is in this instance satisfaction is subjective.  In the moment was it enjoyable absolutely.  Was it worth it in relation to my long-term goals and desires? Probably not. 

 The sexual encounter was an entirely selfish interaction.  I was only concerned with I wanted in that moment there was no give and take. Its important to note that I’m not referring to a physical reciprocity,  but rather an emotional one.  I now see sex between two uncommitted people as an act of aggression.  They both take something from each other they can never give back.

In the process of forgiving myself,  I was able to reflect positively on the things I learned about myself through falling short of my goal temporarily.  First I reminded myself that even though I was made perfectly my actions won’t always reflect that.  I’m human and mistakes and failure come with the job description.  Whether or not I learn from them or dwell in them is a choice. A competitor by design I can’t stand when I fall short, but the champion in me is always satisfied to finish. Even though I lost this round and let it drive me a bit bananas;  I’m back on the wagon and not looking back.  

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Poetry Break: I Am In Need

I am in need

of peaceful days

and restless nights

lost in the tangles of love’s clutches

silhouettes dancing in candle birthed shadows

soft, firm caressed as you take hold

of my breath

chest against my back

warm sweet breath on my neck

already I’m breathless

hands running to breasts

feet

thighs

gently massaging

swiftly arousing me

sweat slowly dripping down the small of my back

goose bumps survey my flesh

awaiting your next caress

already I’m breathless

your lips softer than baby’s bottom

address me with the warmth of your mouth

the sweetest conversation

see I am in need

to be sucked and rubbed

and pinched and smacked

and flipped until I’m overdone

Hell sometimes a lady just wants to be fucked

but oh no

‘cause if you go for what you want

you’re a slut, tramp, bitch, ho

oh no

don’t get me wrong making love is what I love

but tonight

ooooooh tonight

I want to arise to an afro leaning to the front

back, and the side

I am in need

of a man who is man enough to dive into the depths of me

to explore me like Jacques Cousteau

love my body no follicle untouched

un-kissed

un-caressed

no inch of flesh left behind

I am in need of a man to make me sing a soulful love song

while he works my clitoral on and off switch

to bring out the opera of my soprano

from the rising and death-defying gliding of his phallus

to bring on my crescendo

and push out my most primal

make me growl like the panther that I am

devour me in the jungle of my heart

when my body has done its final quake let me rest in peaceful

joy-filled slumber

let me awake once again a lady

breakfast in bed

ham, bacon, pancakes

potatoes, eggs

and oh, special for you a little head

see while last night was all about me

I truly feel it’s better to give than receive

or give and receive

whatever way you fancy

never selfish always ancy

but still you can’t just give away these panties

no matter how erect the direction of these nipples

pointing you out

or how wet this pussy

trying to pull my card

I’m a lady

and the whore trapped inside

tapping my mind

and a working on my nerves

with all the thoughts of what you could do

she don’t run shit

so here I sit

in need

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Poetry Break: Nothing But Death (live)

I would have posted this last month But May was just all too much for me. My older sister, who this poem is dedicated to, was murdered in 2005. Last month her birthday (44th), mothers day and my niece’s college graduation all happened within a matter of days of one another. I was a hot buttered mess of tears. In fact on my nieces graduation, which also happened to be mothers days i found myself crying inconsolably in my room feeling once again like I failed my niece and nephew by not being available to them. I am grateful that they grew up with a wonderful and loving support system and are both college educated awesome individuals. I know their mom would be so proud.

Nothing But Death was my answer to my grieving process and I performed it at Rustbelt in 2013 with my Sister Chani The Hippie ,who also happens to be my #12yeartwin because we share a birthday.  I hope you enjoy it