Tag: poetry

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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: Monkey Me

See I’ve been wrestling with this monkey called depression for some years, and he occasionally, hangs out with this gorilla named alcohol, and for a while in high school, he hung out with this baboon, buffoon weed, and every time I swear I got him beat and I love my life or so it seems he comes round with his reel to reel, and replays my life full of bullshit themes, from love story to the dramas, and crazy action horror flicks. Hollywood has no idea what real 3D, breathtaking life is, nothing worse than watching bad shit happen, except that goes on with innocent kids who had no decision on their existence, sometimes I used to wonder if I’m the master of my destiny, who is anyone to deem me wrong for politely conceding and ending my journey? But every day I still strive this monkey see, and do, and do lie, do wrong, make me strong……sometimes,weigh me down, stall my breath, feel like death……some days,   I keep on going, because those days when the monkey is too exhausted from fighting, when he can’t immobilize, and his lack of opposable thumbs gets him down, these are the days, weeks, and months for which I live,  absent shaven head and umbrella sword fights, no delusions of grandeur, or depraved indifference, just even keel, favorite meal, that’s my jam, singing off key happily, everyday type flow, man o man, the days without that monkey yo, a clear day in LA where you can see forever, But this thoughtless fool, he  knows my address, sees my progress and at a moment’s notice will take the time to ascend my thighs, and claim jump my peace, distracting me with his incessant gorilla chatter, attempting to convince me to sit, out this round, this passage, this life, un-scratchable itch, mean ol’ monkey bitch, why me, why harass little back, small hip me?  Fight him off one more time, as he smiles at me that’s life baby girl, don’t you get it, see, deep down inside you appreciate me, I make some of your days amazing, I dredge you into exhaustion and encourage you to refrain from success, and wallow in this stress, but it’s me that gets up and my weight presses you on, ungrateful whiner God sent me to make you strong, what could I say, what in reality was there to do, I slapped his little monkey ass, and said bring it on boo
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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