POETRY

She moved like poetry in motion

ecliptic into a universe of tears

where words bare the burdens of buried thoughts.

She walks on clouds of lessons learned

falling from grace at an early age.

For her mind represents patterns

forming phrases of rhymes.

She is time standing still

frozen into moments of eternity until she moves.

I am incarcerated into the black hole of her lyrics.

She speaks to my soul's contentment

from the hypnotic flow of her hip movement.

I learn to understand her within each stanza

until each word transforms into lines

forming paragraphs until pages become endless.

In a world filled with chaos she gives me freedom.

Escaping from the darkness

with the glow of her candlelight.

She spreads her insight to my inner demons

entrapping me till I find myself possessed,

with my soul laid to rest

exhaling a dying man's last breath.

She is every metaphoric phrase,

every simile or hyperbole

used in conjunction or individually.

For she can stand alone on a page completely free

and comfortable because she is allowed to be herself.

Her glamour is isolated and unique,

the curls of her hair like looping pen strokes

the bat of her eyes resemble

commas and quotations

the pucker of her lips like bold text on the page

and the scent of her skin

like fresh artistry written on paper.

She is paradise captured into humanistic form.

She was born beautiful into an ugly society

where her words confuse the minds of the normal

because she's misunderstood.

She can contaminate the planet

with a plague of her own predictions.

She is a psychologist philosophizing

the philosophical philosophy of people's pain.

She is the pen.

Ink flows from the pores of her skin

tattooing white sheets of paper

with her inner most secrets.

She spreads like a virus transferring her poison

from one word to the next

until every letter is contaminated with her vision.

Her eyes envision this Earth as her prison

with the letters POETRY

on her heart as an inscription.

She is addition, subtraction,

multiplication and division.

She is the line that separates 

a new faze from tradition.

She is 360* degrees of rotation,

an orbital goddess of circular motion.

She is the voice box transferring messages

through open mouth and tongue

affecting mental brainwaves and eardrums

till the spirit becomes high.

For her ink bleeds more blue and black

words on paper

than stars cloud the midnight sky.

She is a thought, a phrase, a meaning of expression.

Exquisite in every sense of the word.

For she is POETRY!!!

Change (first draft)

FOR BARACK OBAMA!!!

(he asked)

Were you around during the 1963 Dr. King walk

from Bermingham, Alabama to Washington D.C.

or even during his assasination in Memphis

on the balcony deck....

No I wasn't!

(he asked)

Were you alive during the rise of Malcolm X

within the world of Muslims and minorities

while Mohammed Ali rose to superstardom.

Did you see Malcolm shot down

by his own brown skinned brothers?

No I didn't!

(he asked)

Did you see the silent boycott

of blacks in back seats by Rosa Parks

who sat in the "Whites Only" section?

Refusing to move so negros

could be considered equal.

No I didn't!

(he asked)

Where you present when Harriet Tubman

led black slaves through the underground railroad

so they could escape whips to flesh

and field working futures?

No I wasn't!

But I am a part of Black History.

I am a witness of change.

The part that turned black history month

into a 4 year celebration.

The part that re-defined 50 years

of dominance by creating change

in every fashion.

I am part of black history

that saw a black man overcome segregation

like Magic overcame AIDS.

I am the NEXT Black President!!!!

UNTITLED

If our universes don't combine
To form a galaxy of forever
I will wait for u at the end of time,
Holding the last grain of sand in my palm.
Standing on the apocalypse of love,
Destruction formed into an emotion called pain.
One foot on the graveled patch of Earth
Known as the end of the world
The other suspended in the atmosphere of the unknown.
Praying that heartbreak doesn't overthrow love's throne.
Uncertain about my place in romantic destiny
Wanting and hoping for extraordinary ecstasy.
Not wanting to fall into the black hole of ex-boyfriends,
Husbands, and love interests.
Sinking into the erotic darkness of past relationships.
But no matter the outcome I am waiting here for u to return.
Fighting the satanic winds sent to wipe away my machismo
So that we eclipse into another
Painful memory…

YOU & I

Our destiny's were ordained even before we engaged in conversation.
It's been more than 5 years but now we stand eye to eye facing.
A lifetime of timelines lay between our first glance
And this unexpected romance.
But when our attraction enhanced
We found our lives intertwined on the silver lining of our minds.
And as we exchanged our hellos and goodbyes,
Somewhere in-between sparks began to fly.
We gave way to these unforeseen dreams,
The kind that leave you breathless when kissing.
Vessels penetrating the cerebral cortex of this intellectual sex,
Better yet this mind fuck leaving me stuck off the ways
Our intellect connects till it shreds the ignorance of our love critics.
Most people just analyze this shit but only a few actually live it.
And we met by accident; you were trying out something new
With a guy that you weren't really into,
And I was living the independent, single male lifestyle.
But when I saw you I felt a tingle deep into my soul
And it caused this cold heart to relight its fire
So our flame could burn eternally.

THE POISON OF A WOMAN

Your face is more radiant than sunshine.

With a style so fine you leave men feeling tension

as their mouths dangle in suspension

while you pass them by.

Uplifting me with a natural high.

With skin feeling as warm as the sun's rays,

causing guys to fall on subconscious knees and pray

giving God the praise for each day you walk this Earth.

Blessed since birth you touch makes me betray 

every ounce of my resistance against your magnetic force.

Massaging my brain with your mental intercourse,

see you had me open in 5 seconds flat.

With no contract to keep my thoughts in tact.

I have to put on my thinking cap 

so I can tap into your emotional map

in order to get my life back on course.

Instead of verbal language I use Morse Code,

codenamed White Horse or Princess Pegasus.

You turn optimists into pessimist 

with a beauty that causes metamorphosis

from lighted images into secluded periods of darkness.

My photosynthesis gives me temporary night vision senses

so that I may envision each layer of your multi-dimensions.

Feelings left unmentioned because this ink based pen 

can't write with a long enough distance

to express all these feelings buried deep inside.

My pride won't allow me to subside 

because your power keeps changing like the tide.

Your heart pulls me in then pushes me aside 

like an oceanic wave.

For you I crave with eyes that star gaze

while blazing trails on a journey through 

magic spells and wishing wells

filled with the fairy tales of your fountain of youth.

Possessing no proof I am searching desperately for my destiny

and it could lie within you.

But there is no use chasing what could be truths.

Because you refuse to be used so you keep on your walking shoes

and leave footprints across broken hearts.

I try to play my part but the heels on your high-heeled shoes 

pierce me like a dart.

Your affection is only temporary because it fades away like Sade

trapped with 11 tracks of this Lover's Rock.

I cock block attempting to get a head start on the competition

but forgetting that Somebody already broke my Heart.

You see I was told never to start what can't be finished,

although my intent is not to diminish your reputation

but rather to relinquish your inner motivation 

and change your negativity.

You must have been sleeping with the enemy I mean literally

cuz you got me like Gnarls Barkley...

I think I'm crazy...I think I'm crazy....

I think I'm crazy....well possibly.

You see what I can't fathom is why you claim gypsy queen

but continue wandering the scene destroying dreams

like the shattered lives of drug fiends.

There aren't enough steps of my Nicorete patch 

to cure the unending desperation

for the urging sensation of your human nicotine.

You make grown men shout out words that are obscene

as you contaminate every cell in their blood stream

till it paralyzes their bodies from their heads down to their spleen

I mean really it's merely impossible to withstand the impulses

of your hypnotic vibe.

The ancient scribes don't provide me with enough info 

to predict your tempo

that altered my ego from normal to nymphomaniac.

Attacking my thinking track 

by revealing the powers of your black zodiac.

Making my body collapse from your voodoo rituals

causing my spiritual to be overcome by your physical.

I need a doctor to check my vitals 

to see if my systolic and diastolic heart palpitations

seem normal because my subconscious condition is critical.

Caught inside your tornado I have become a casualty 

to your supernatural disaster.

You should be called a master because each drop of rain 

that you produce causes my cup to overflow 

I'm losing control to your mental camouflage.

Refusing to let down my guard I battle against all odds 

while you try to dislodge me with delusion.

I find myself sinking in your quicksand 

filled with conflict and confusion

but you should be using your powers for good.

Instead your evilness continues to possess various areas of my flesh

and though I protest against your willfulness

I still feel vulnerable to your kiss....

the moisture within your lips.

The salsa y meringue sway of your hips 

causes my mind to slip in and out of consciousness.

Damn how much I mss that small amount of time we spent 

but the fact of the matter is

I fell victim to your venomous touch.

Like Eve when she persuaded Adam 

to eat the apple from the tree of life.

You are the Spear of Destiny that pierced the side of Jesus Christ.

Able to entice mankind into complete submission.

You are poison's princess 

and I have become infected with your venom!!

SHE IS 13

Stomach swollen into a cylinder filled, adolescent mind,

covered in the skin of mistakes born wrong.

She is backstriken spinal cord bent in weariness

from walking this Earth older than she.

Made to depend on the only soul not guaranteed to break her stride...

Herself!!!

But it was the harsh and frequent lashes of her stepfather's hand

that led her down this crippled and weary road.

She pushes cracked and battered toes across Columbus stolen,

formerly Native owned lands.

Journeying through life crossing roads paved

on top of the unmarked graves of former ancestral slaves.

Beaten and bruised feet from wood crafted footboards,

bathromm stall floors, and broken ally bottles

where she is made to earn a few dollars.

Left with no options and zero role models

she looks toward Dead Presidential faces to be her fore fathers.

Following their "In God We Trust" motto

till it speaks hymnals in her eardrums and pockets.

Penetrating the very depth of her sleep

while she clinches pillow covered sheets.

Jolted from her slumber by the electric convulsions

of her own muscle spasmed seizures.

Remembering the timelss mornings she has awakened

to a blood soaked Jersey fitted sheet purchased from IKEA,

Not knowing if it's her nose or her womb.

Made from cotton, crafted in a factory

where more workers lose jobs than dreams, fabricated

from 50 plus years of bloody harvesting fields.

And you can still hear in the distance in the shrieking sounds

of connected chains attached to whip inflicted mahogany bones,

dragging decrepit punished souls,

but she never feels Their sacredly concealed spirits

evaporating from the very sheets 

on which she exchanges skin for meat

until she awakens into a pool of disappointment.

With each step and breath she regrets the life she leads.

Trying to carve her path through the stone and cement reality of life

but instead she creates a dysfunctional seed.

Posted on street corners where his congregation consists

of other euphoric minded souls.

Trapped in this state of nirvana, these future kings and queens

crowd the crack houses like fools to gold.

Caught in a vortex of volcanic reconstruction.

Where teenage women conceive children 

because of un-parented decisions.

For she is only 13!!!

Descendant of the Royal Bloodlne where 13

was next in line to be crowned Queen.

Traveling through life lost, her cost paid to society with her payment

the sacrifice of her child to these unforgiving streets.

Until her number is tallied along with the warrior women 

that came before her as it totals the inner cities status quo.

Her CD player worth more than her fractured self-concept,

crushed into hieroglyphic snapshots of struggle.

Her pain echoes a song like psalms,

playing on the soundtrack of her subconscious.

Her stomach, swollen into a cylinder filled,

adolescent mind, covered in the skin of mistakes born wrong.

Stretch marks resembling life's cold,

callus grip, tearing at her pregnant belly.

She's an empress turned prostituted drug fiend.

Descendant of the Royal Bloodline

where 13 was next in line to be crowned Queen.

Although she will never be...