Arch - Angel of Love

words
spit
from attractive lips meant for Saturn’s moons
my empty vessel captures the calls from desires sister
want;need
become one with the woman that they came from
I stare and watch as
cupid shoots his bent arrows taken from invisible quivers
the sharp points
maliciously aimed towards my heart
near misses
become
cold kisses
and now I lay dead
betrayed by her love
once again

Poetic Biology

I roll
Nina Simone bones
then exhale
poetic meter
spirits of my ancestors
grow through the hairs of my beard
and show my African features
high
cheek bones
wide set eyes
built like a small powerful creature
ink applied to skin
become dog eared pages of life
left to decipher by all you HIStory teachers

Love at first site

........enter
she sits.........
beautiful African flower
with drops of autumn along her skin
short raven hair
my stares purposely
catch her attention
she glances as if to take a sniff
pauses
then purrs these words
I know guys like you
pursed lips
eyelids closing
as if to squash the last vowel in line
spirits of exes and soon to be next exes
sit firmly to her left and right
she explains that everyone has a two sided approach to life
speaks of eternal baggage
he, we and they become adage to her existence
over time
our conversation grows into a fire
burning down flammable inhibitions
then replaced by walls of unwavering persistence
soon
in so few words
she has me smitten with a zombie like affliction
my desire is to explore the inner depths of her mind
so I walk over close and place her hand in mine
within a dash of the third rail if my motives be in question
our time together
fast forwards to forever
where
I imagine us old; together still
her wizened hands
and fingers; long
gently plucking at the gray hairs on my arms
like petals on a lilly pad

tongue twisted

they said
he said, she said
now time lies dead
stabbed through the tongue
with a pen

Adultery

my love,
close your eyes and follow my voice
let me lead you to a place
- where our heartbeats
turn to footsteps along hidden paths of intimacy
moon rays bind your hips to mine
- lips touch
then destiny parts your legs
allowing me to taste from heaven’s river
grunts and groans from bare backed beasts
dragging knuckles along moist ground
release; rest
we dress
in silence
mouths
bound by secrecy and shattered commandments
our shame over taken by lust
now, the devil leaves us
and
my eternal withdrawals begin
I lose myself passing time
till I have to return you back
to your husband

Third eye turns to stone

evenings spent
deciphering hidden inscriptions scribbled inside
worn sleeve of a rose colored book
my sin sumeya children play with fire
leaving remnants of leaf and stems
discarded on scorched forest floor
a single tree remains
as lonely as the moon that searches for companionship during dawn
I offer condolences through a finger wrapped embrace
dank smoke lies imprisoned inside the walls of human organs
then released through a reversal of fortune
repeat
then pass

Hypocrite

have you ever gotten the feeling
that the person you were having a conversation with thought that they where sent from God?
like, their words to you about their own human struggle
contain messages or answers about your life
oratory measures taken; bound in an obsolete presence
listening to words from a lounge chair in outer space gives Heavenly directions from places never mentioned
the mental distance
the place where right and wrong struggle in a never ending battle
walls of trust built on common sense and reason battle with a soul dipped in treason
there must be a reason
for this change in season
or change in attitudes and moral complexes that exist as the nexus of immoral direction
listen
& understand the words of God and his Son
as they warm the spirit beyond the cold grasps of the devil’s hands
do as man has been directed to do
live and learn the great lessons in life
all it has to offer and take away
be as a ship
moored
docked for the long stay
not as the flag that lifts its head only when the wind blows
an action that the hypocrites all know

Línea negra

tattoo of
vertical life
exists along
womb
nurturing
seeds inside
beautiful skin
I show you
a drawing
from the inside
Línea negra

my Sunrise-written in 3rdIperspektiv

raven tinted luminescence
crawls across the horizon
lashes of light
open up
and kiss the velvet sky
virgin sunshine
offers herself to the indigo skyline
she leaves residue
of pomegranate along his smile
lusts pains
paint sage and purple streaks
where they once lay
orange meets bright white
as sunshine meets her peak
erupting
molten lava
life;bliss
she has risen
to seduce night
once again

D.S.T.

Tick Tock Tick
Tock
Tick Tock
Tick Tock Tick
my life; enveloped with emotion
almost a strung out devotion
I was a junkie
hooked on this thing called
love
inhaled
cooked
snorted
injected
I found myself floating with those from above
but that time is gone now
replaced by one that heals
while it wears my soul down
the mountain in front of recovery
seems too high
I am taking a breather now
my arms are rested on my thighs
I start to move again
running
inhale
running faster
breathe out
halfway up the hill
I am now flailing my arms about
I reach the summit at full speed
take off like a bird
flapping wings so fast
the clock can’t be heard
Tick Tock Tick
Tock
Tick Tock
Tick Tock Tick
a little bit softer now……..
I am healed

poetic suicide

I feel as though
my time here
is coming to an end
I want to leave
a final impression
for all of my friends
the jocks
the nerds
the suits
the straightedge
the hippies
the herbs
the skaters
the bikers
the gangsters
the clubbers
the hangout all niters
the multi-
national
cultural
biological
the women
the men
the preachers
the sinners
the saxophone
the violin
the drums
the bass
the turntable
the case
the lawyers
the doctors
the eyes
the face
of anyone that has crossed my path
heart left warmed by
water; life
casting long memories
no matter the sun’s height
my time on earth is over now
I can’t escape the inevitable
can’t hide or run
I am thirsty before I go
I make a drink
blue ink from a metal flask
pour; enjoy
tick; tock
time pasts
I drop to my knees
take up the pen
and squeeze
my final impression is left
all over the walls for everyone to see
poetic suicide

Something for you

to think of you
is an unwrapped gift
anticipation builds.....nervousness is replaced by a smile
no matter what the lord puts between us
luggage, cities, countless miles
I will never forget the space that you occupy
I wish that forever I could hold your hand
wipe the tears when you cry
witness all of your problems disappear
when you need to talk, give you an ear
be your everything
or anything
if you like

She loves me, she loves me not

Feel as I feel. Is that poetic?
is it possible for you to hear me through a sequence
of inaudible sounds shaped into frequencies
that bring my spirit into your world
beckoning me like the Sirens of Odysseus
intoxicating me with the allure of your spirit
just to crash my hopes and desires on the hidden beaches
and cavernous caves surrounding the entrance to your heart
once loved but now scorned; feelings
scorched like the world’s southern most desert
lips dry
parched flesh
yearning for the afternoon oasis of kisses to set your heart aflame
our love is coarse and dry like the ram’s fur of Aries
never escaping the desire to be together
but hating the time when we are

BONNIE & CLYDE::by anwar::ekphrastic

good night:painting by andrew nichols
BONNIE & CLYDE::by anwar
a poem of epic proportions

Bonnie couldn’t figure out what was taking Clyde so long to come out of there.
She had begun to worry that he may have been shot. "God damn it Clyde!!!", she screams as she slams on the gas pedal of the silver 745. She sends the car flying into the intersection in front of the bank and then pulls hard on the emergency brake. "Now spin the wheel hard to the right", she can hear him say inside of her head. "I know damn it", she says to herself being as stubborn as usual. She always hates it when he tells her how to drive, especially in the quarter to eight. This is her ride and she has it sitting parallel to the bank and the police barricade outside of the bank. Bonnie has blocked the entryway so that someone can only enter or exit through the rear door of the car. She climbs into the back seat and pushes down on a button in the middle console. A compartment opens up and reveals two high-powered automatic rifles, two nine millimeters and a few grenades. A smile of exctacy pours over her face. It shows that she gets off on this, a lot. This spur of the moment thrill this bank-robbing ride to hell and back, anything goes for her man and she was ready to do that now. No FBI, no police, no snipers, no one, will keep her from getting the man of her life and the love that keeps them whole.

See, Bonnie & Clyde, they both share an unwavering lust for the money and all things that come from it. They have blazed up and down the East Coast through banks and holding houses of some of the areas finest institutions. Now they have hit the mother load, the Federal Reserve Bank sitting right in the middle of Boston’s financial district. They had picked this final job together, a first. Clyde always called the shots so Bonnie was happy when he approached her about planning it out with him. Clyde called it the payoff of a lifetime, because of the location. One highway, with both north and south access directly in front of the building, waterways three hundred yards behind the building and then, there is the train station. Placed 100 feet away from the front door of Boston’s moneymaking machine, lies one of the largest spider webs of public transportation known to man. Its called South Station. With rail lines and bus lines going to over 1000 places every hour on the hour then not to mention three extra lines for the local community, this station stacked up to most in the country. What it lacked in size, it provided in confusion to anyone not aware of its many tunnels and schedules available. Both things necessary to those that not only wanted to remove themselves from the vicinity in a very short amount of time but also cause as much confusion as possible when doing it. This was their planned method of escape. Bonnie planned it that way.

Instead, Bonnie finds herself in the backseat of the car loading shells into her pump shotgun and trying to calm her breathing down before she pulls on the bullet proof vest. She silently goes about her tasks as chaos exists outside the vehicle. The snipers have positioned themselves to take a shot as soon as she steps out of the vehicle. The car is wrapped in bulletproof glass so they’d be wasting their shots before they needed to. The snipers don’t know that so she plays a game of cat of and mouse with them. After her bullet proof vest is on, she pops open the door and then slams it closed really quickly. Instantly a two-inch bullet ricochets off the side of the glass where she is lying. Bonnie pops her head up and then a second bullet ricochets off of the roof. "Ok ", she says to herself, "that’s was 4.7 seconds". 4.7 seconds, to get out of the car and into the building before the snipers explode her head with one of their bullets. The door is two yards away; the snipers are reloading and aiming, waiting for the next shot. Bonnie takes her weapons in hand, kicks open the left door with the butt of the gun and then opens the door on the right with her free hand. Bonnie hears the first shot ping off of the ground right outside of the left door. They fell for her bait. 4.7 seconds she dashes out of the right door, 4.3 seconds sniper’s bullet leaves gun, 3.9 seconds the door of the bank is open, 3 seconds the bullet enters Bonnie’s right foot and exits through her left knee cap. She lets out a scream as she falls into the doorway. Her body seems lifeless, teetering on the doorjamb, half in and half out lies in plain view of the TV cameras. Every detail is caught on film and the entire country has been watching this standoff live from their living rooms. Now they watch another drama within the one that has captivated them for over an hour. They sit and watch as a convicted killer and bank robber fights for her life and crawls to find her lover…..

"Bonnie!!!!", Clyde screams as he hears the next shot. Bonnie lies there in a pool of blood and Clyde runs over to her in his futile attempt to save her from eternal demise. He runs over to the doorway and is hit with a sniper bullet in the left thigh. The second pierces his heart. It renders him motionless for a fraction of a second. The force of the bullet drives him down to the ground and he lay there, pinned to the cold marble floor of the Federal Reserve Bank. Bonnie reaches over to her lover and they pull into each other’s arms. Coughing blood and retching violently, breathing her last breaths she utters these words………………

my dear Clyde
our time has come
such a beautiful ride
the money was endless
but the thrills aside
I had more fun showing you
that I am a down ass chick
through all thin and thick
for you and us…...oooh in this I only trust
I will stand by your side
till the day I die
or we die together
our blood splatters forever
remain on the concrete of which we lay
people in the future will speak about this day
the time they witnessed true love with no bounds
in these final words my love can be found
I am happy and finally content
my head finally resting where it needs to be
In your arms
for all of eternity....…….. exit

always and forever - ekphrastic: poem by anwar::art by henry lee battle

my vows that day:
I have loved you since
the first day we met
the second time we kissed
the third time we fell in love
the fourth time is this
it is an honor
as my heart grows fonder
to take you as my wife
not till tomorrow
but for the rest of.......

......my life
forever changed when
rings twisted
betwixt our essence
intertwining lips to commence
our union under heaven’s
blessings
smiles & bulbs
flashing
hop over broom
feet; legs dashing
nervousness replaced by
eternal happiness
fast forward to
a picture of this
honeymoon bliss
bodies locked tightly
fire breathes deeply along your hips
release the passion from within
exploding
gushing; rushing
touching your lips again
rapture draws me in
our breathing
combined in perfect harmony
inhale
…
exhale
…
we live together in the arms of destiny
always and forever
that’s what this love means to me

Only a matter time before you get it

click clack
the sound made
when pulling back the trigger
on a 50-desert eagle
see this weapon
is specially
manufactured to move another bullet
into the chamber
before the last one
has exited the gun
sound like fun?
ever shoot a hand cannon
in a crowds direction
watch the bullet
change
colors as it
smashes through stone
children’s bone
then finally
leaving someone’s dome
all over the cement
the gory stuff
we haven’t even got to yet

click clack
the sound made
when
bullet leaves nose
of my
metal life switch
I love to turn niggas lights out
sometimes at the same time
I can get him and his bitch
save time/save bullets
just walk up on em
take out the steel
and use it
bullet enters body
severs tendons
moves around the chest cavity
searching for an exit
hits the chick beside dude
she’s laying beside him
I am already jettin

click clack
the sound made
by the gun put to rest
placed up under my arm
inside the bullet proof vest
click clack packed away neat
I can feel the heat
from another spent shell
I am addicted to that
noxious sulfur smell
the night comes again
the huge moon pumps me up
for some more
innocent
citizen
killin
walk the streets
searching for more
unsuspecting peeps
mission accomplished
I don’t feel like running
I need a ride
see a black sedan on the corner
idling
someone sitting inside
word
their loss of life
not mine

click clack

don’t move
or we’ll blow your fucking head off

clack click

the police have me surrounded
following a tip
from a nosy neighbor
for two days
the sedan outside my apartment
been watching my behavior
report reads:
perp leaves by 7
returns by 9
walks with a limp or something
drags his left leg behind
consider him armed and dangerous
and keep this in mind
murders been committed by
a 50 cal desert eagle
this type of weapon
can blow off a grown man’s knees
before you finish a sneeze

don’t move
or we’ll blow your fucking head off

well
blow it off then
aint no way in he world
I will spend a day in the pen
from my 50
I unleash a volley of bullets
click clack
click clack
click clack
the police and D.T.’s
fall dead
sporting
peekaboo
holes from chest to back
click clack
click clack
click clack
sirens, screams, flash of light

clack click

oh shit
I think that I am hit
cops move in
you aint taking me alive, I scream
then
I hear the last

Click

when
gun explodes in mouth like fireworks
cops start to yell
too late, you pigs
my soul forever
click clacks
in Hell

First date

"My favorite color is yellow"
she says
through her wicked smile
the awkward miles have been passed by
through conversation and laughter
as we speak and move together
my heart races faster
should I.......
or should I wait
- wait - conscience replies
the result will be better -
so in my patience I reside
then something happens
did she just.....
was that a......
am I seeing things…..
yep......
it was…
I think she was just checking me out
an innocent glance no less
but one for me to count
hopefully to be followed by many more
her profile
invite my courting words
her lips
move in time
her spirit
matches mine
she has me smitten
yes I wrote that last line
it wasn’t a Freudian slip
I mean what I say
no matter when I am saying it
morning
noon or
8pm at night
she takes a left and
another left
my house on the right
"why do I want to go home"
the answer should be easy
the reason is something
that I did not want to risk
going another minute
without having your
lips
to
kiss

(v/a) -::last words of an abused child::-

I don’t want to die
but I’m going to
I mean
mom and dad didn’t like me that much anyway
during youth
consistently reminded
with
backhand slaps
forward kicks
forceful terms of endearment
my favorite
- I wish that you would walk down the street and get hit by a car -
through time I found that
I didn’t need to walk far
everyday
an 18-wheeler jackknifed inside my living room
spewing garbage
gifts of true voice
feelings; unwrapped
from: mom and dad written on the side
all because I reminded them of
- the hard times
each stomp and scream
would really mean
- boy I wish you were never born
I’m tired of working four jobs
my feet got corns -
daddy never really came home
he was too ashamed; frustrated
that I couldn’t be another woman for him to beat
I had to be a son
whenever daddy did come home
he would knock me on my head with a beer bottle
and mom would laugh as I pick up my teeth
place them inside my pocket
I would look towards the front door
wishing to be
outside
instead
inside
darkness resides
their words:
I hate you
if you had stayed inside
I
I
I would have
elevated my mind
smoked weed
bought cars and dresses
spread around my seeds
but no,
here you come
with a big ass head
looking like your mother
wish I could bust you in the face
like I do her
but you aint worth it
fact is
you aint worth shit
stuff on the bottom of my shoe
that’s what I got for you and your ass
with a little heel for some added class
thanks
mom and dad
for taking out on me
what you couldn’t see
wasn’t my fault at all
your words
helped me grow into
the animal that I am today
I see you in the crowd
not even looking my way
can’t you see
the lives that I took
where in honor of you
just trying to get attention
like when I was a kid
you would’ve been proud of my murderous rampage
the burning memories of a child
used as fuel to excite fear into victims
before the final knife thrust
in death I trust
so I sit still in the face of it
even in this electric chair
I learned from you
that I should never shed a tear
so I don’t
forever set up in jail
big guy over there
wearing the blue
wry smile
bout to hit the juice
send my soul to Lucifer
thrown into the eternal fire
20 murders
paid in full
all with one pull of the switch
my body
shocked
then
violent
twitch
my life ended
just as mom and dad wanted
papers read
Monster executed this morning at 10:22
to his murders he gave no excuse
I couldn’t read it
lost my eyesight
from years of your Verbal Abuse

rollover sex

10:31pm
I am dreaming
white capped waves
smashing against stone enclaves
engorged peach
juices trickling down cheek
strawberry and cherry Jell-O kisses
topped with whipped cream; chocolate chips
frozen ice melts on nips
forming wrinkles around tightened skin
hairs stand straight on end
sweat mixing in
with silk and latex
air fills with aroma of
beautiful sex
brown and black
mixing
twisting
biting
backs
toes
arched
internal fire
spark
external moans
waves through bones
repetitive body shudders
words in foreign tongues
uttered
a sickness
caused by
the rushing
water sloshing
gushing feeling
of sweet
release
cum remnants
freed from their dark prison
traveling down knee
shared with wet sheets
seconds pass by as
heat rises inside loins
of captive vessels
chin firmly nestled in shoulder
resting; nuzzled
breast shoved into chest muscle
gasps of air
paint pillows with
auburn shades of wet matted hair
the spider webs locks
tie hands and arms
into upright positions
legs create playboy shadows on walls
in this rollover free for all
your touch stirs me
your wetness
frees the beast inside
next scene
seems like
drummer enters room
flesh being beat upon
brat a tat tat
brat a tat tat
tat a tat brat
start remixing the track
headboard cracks
bed falls
we fall
clock falls
damn
it reads
12:31am

Whispers from the trees

sitting in class, reading through a history book
I find myself drowning in handed down university gossip
it seems as if historians and presidents shined lights on our past’s shadows
leaving entire passages whited out
our words washed away
fibrous
blood stained
splattered; stretched ropes remain
formed into nooses once used to release spirit from anything black
dark flesh rots
ripped; torn apart
on the bark of trees bearing negro fruit
the trees limbs so laden with innocent souls that
lifeless toes touch blades of grass on their ascent to heaven
I sit in my chair under the arch created by the hanging tree
and search around looking for messages dropped to the ground
from hands clenched tight together; holding onto their last breath
pain riveting from the neck down to their blood stained coverings
I am listening to the trees’ whispers
uttering
last prayers of the dying
free me
free me
oh heavenly Father
free me from this place
where my skin color has become the measurement of my livelihood
I look around and find spots of blood
remnants left over
from post mortem beatings
not red but purple stains remain
the type of blood that exists only inside the veins of royalty
those of my past’s kings and queens
now reduced to a slave mentality
lifeless bodies hung on trees to catch the summer breeze
left in a way
to teach dem other negros lessons about wanting to be free
that’s what the massa say
well now massa is telling me another story
he teaches democracy
and how it has always existed for the right of human beings
he goes onto say
we will enforce democracy
like
the pilgrim’s thanksgiving on plymouth rock
and stuff it down the throats of anyone not willing to eat our words of subjugation
well
subjected we were
to plantations
tilling mother earth’s creation
until finally
raping her of the opportunity to grow us out of here
here
in
this
foreign country
this
place
we once never knew of
a mind will always revolt unnatural surroundings
what you called disobedience
our ancestors called
survival of the quickest
I turn the page in my history book
and find it blank
my pen starts to write a new history passage
recycled words dropped onto the soil that my ancestors watered with their own
blood; sweat
urine; tears
from bodies hung in the summer breeze
becoming fertilizer for our future
producing Whispers from the trees

krazy love affairs

light auburn
describe
eyes; skin
as I
look in her direction
she returns
a sultry; curvaceous
smile
creating
sweaty palms
joined with
nervous cousins
of shiny beads
around my forehead
10 fingers
grasping tightly
to the pole
as the train prepares to stop
her stop
she
stands
glances
in my direction
as if to say
something
but
nothing
shyness grips her cheeks
the burning sensation
melt her lips closed
she can’t speak
damsel in distress
flashes across her chest
but he
the courageous one
offers a hand
in her verbal quicksand
excuse me miss
did you forget something
then
my brain
begins to
offers passages of
lyrical blessings
the words flow off my lips
like water from a fountain
game
set
match
what time will you be by?
she asks
back to reality
I am caught off guard
been day dreaming
gone somewhere
as my alter ego took charge
see
if I haven’t explained
I have a problem with the ladies
talking
approaching
kissing
all of the things included
with the opposite sex
seriously
when the time comes
to seal the deal
I run and
hide inside
this great
big old head of mine
then it’s his turn to shine
that dude
with the
I know you want me
attitude
the salesman that’s always closing
always leading the pack
never roaming
sexually charged
testosterone bully
standing tall
fully
erect through it all
he’s mastered
every single
cat call
so
when women hear his growl
panties fall
when he starts to speak
knees grow
clumsy
weak
putty in his hands
this super
krazy
lover man
with soft
inviting hands
he reaches out
and places
assurances
upon
asses
of luxurious
dames
never ashamed
never assuming
just resuming
where I left off
I am not a supporter
of the fact
happen to feel
the opposite of that
I am guilty
of pimping my mind
to get me to places
my own words
can not find
living
in
this
dual personality
one part
mild
one part
krazy
but they don’t seem too care
the endless
headless
women of my
krazy love affairs
they feel involved
with a two for one deal
like
rkelly and jay z
best of both worlds

Dont kill the messenger

the messenger arrives/burdened with notes they have sent/he said, she said, we said
my head/fills with caricatures of/children’s nonsense
words written/verses roasted over hot coals/spitting vowels of
conjoined hatred/dark mirrors show reflections of/competitive natures
drop of blood remains/dried to the carpet/stabbed in back by
lyrical prophets/crucified words/become resurrected
arranged and twisted/remixed around/ensuring the devil’s profit
words/used as swords/slay giants of human folklore
help/create change in human life/what we are here for
love, honor, respect/grow to rich/from poor
use words as fire/light the path/ahead of you
never walk in the dark/let words/spark
conversations of fellowship/brotherhood/write scenes
that smell good/not putrid/excrement of satan’s pits
train minds/to become/harmonious confines
create/verbal concubines/married to
positive messages/youth can inhale/dissect into written passages
scribed in scrolls/pages of text books/scrawled on walls
hung on plaques in the hall/words that will not fail/now or tomorrow
my page/is torn/eyes perplexed
feeling/spirit hexed/between
doing right and wrong/help me sing new songs/raise the bar
loving arms forever wrapped/around the waist of our future/for decades long
my word is bond/I can keep going on/but the messenger is out of ink
voice strained/from screaming/yelling to an empty room
head bowed in disgust/over what we think is us/doing right by the lord

come write with me - revisited

I decided to do an audio version of something that I wrote called
Come write with me

click the link below for your listening pleasure
Come write with me audio link

TURN ON YOUR SPEAKERS

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I hope that you like it
Let me know what you think taure:anwar:rodrigues

dreams

Dreams are the dew
of todays rain
left over remnants
from the memories
of yesterday
providing sustenance
for tomorrow’s growth
use the dew wisely
so no questions will be asked
in the end

Perspective

One day while lounging
she asked me casually,
how much do you love me?
most males melt at the mere mention
of love measurement
but I had an answer deemed heaven sent
I held up my writing hand
spread my thumb and pointy finger
apart from one another – about an inch
"This much baby" I said with a grin
then all hell broke loose
she wanted to beat me down
put my head in a noose
Wait, listen
you asked me a question
at least let me explain
those two fingers spread apart
can fit inside them the sun
Its all about perspective baby
and where you are looking from
if I stretch my arms a yard long
and tell you that’s how much you fill my heart
if you don’t believe that yourself
then we are doomed from the start
and
listen
I know this thing is a two way street
If you are not feeling the love
then I must change the way I speak
the way I live
the way I breathe
the way I give
everything that I do
will be for you
so when you’re out with your friends
and one of them dares to ask
Girl, how much does your man love you?
you can hold up your two fingers to the sun
and they will laugh
but you will smile
knowing that that space
stretches for miles
perspective

How do you like to kiss?

I am a kisser
I enjoy all forms of the art
sometimes it can just be all lips
then it can be all tongue for my french folks
but I love to do both
kiss; lips
then a little tongue
then bite a little
suck one lip then the next
hold your head with both hands and tilt it back
kiss your neck, chin
then back to lips again
don’t kiss my ears, I can hear you slurping
kiss me where it matters………..oohhhhh… right there
how do you like to kiss?
please
tell me

Rasberry Raindrops(sp) - acrostic

running out of air, lying fetal
against a backdrop of heroin needles
so many dreams, images of past/future flash
before my eyes, closing to slits
enveloping darkness cools the skin
rigor mortise begins developing
repulsive convulsions, spewing green
yellow phlegm, engaged in a winless fight
rooster crows, spirit takes flight. guardian
angel stands on trial, alone in the defense of my soul
in my time of need, I suffered from an addiction
no immortal could understand, subjection of substances
drives mere mortals insane: contemned by the ruling, angel raises his wings

and soars into the heavens, causes…..

rain to fall from above
opulent eyes gaze hypnotized by his extravagance, he moved by the
pending sacrifice of my soul to hell, born from a weak mind
swoops down and captures my spirit before it enters the eternal pyre
(sp)iraling by the assembly as he flies by, then lifts my essence to heaven where I forever reside

I want to write love songs

I want to write love songs
like Donny Hathaway or
Lenny Williams’ Cause I love you joint
short, sweet
to the point
how I love you songs
like Luther
duets with singers like Mariah/Whitney
feel their smooth falsettos
take over me
I want to write love songs
that Kenny Rogers would sing
give a few to American Idol
let the amateurs do their thing
I want to write love songs
notes that whine like Keith Sweat
entice my listeners to love making
rhythms their bodies would never forget
I want to write about Love’s ups and downs
mold them into
emotions that have heart shaped sounds
I want to write love songs
for Earth, Wind and Fire
birth classics from fantasies
ignite lips into future hits
I want to be completely naked onstage with Janet
shooting love tunes to the red planet
alien probes left to decipher truths
offer love loops to the heavens above
messages placed; chirped
by Prince’s white doves
angels would blush
as the blood seemingly fills
their wings of lust
feelings so strong
to decipher
would take scientists centuries long
phrases only understood by two
me and my one and only
I want to write love songs
for you

Love: viewed from a stained glass window

I view it from the mountaintop
looking down upon all of the participants
wishing like an only child only to be included
the last one picked in a game of kickball
I miss the feel of love’s gentle fingers
gently stroking the back of my head
letting me know that everything is ok
I miss love’s breath along my cheek just before a kiss
now I wish that I remembered her phone number
love
is planted in earth’s richest soils
high atop Mount Vesuvius
dark lava fertilizer
watered with tears of endearment
sprouting a bud of trust
then releasing one petal at a time
to be picked and placed upon heavens lapel
she loves me she loves me not
life without love is hard enough
but earthly measures of heart’s pleasures
given by purveyors of distrust; dishonesty
spoils the vibrant pulp inside our fruit before it has chance to ripen
consumed rotten, love comes out the same
inhaled essence of life's lessons
divided by the path one takes to find it’s hidden treasures
tires on the mind
some say true love is supposed to be easy
to them I say
you have yet to begun to live
anything worth fighting for is as hard as a diamond
thus joined in a union with God
becomes the most challenging thing to break apart
how do I view love
I told you from the start
through a stained glass window
once clear
now over taken
by my fallen tears

Come write with me part II - Pirate Talk

I want to penetrate your mind with dictation
stripped bare to the naked essence of shaft and vessel awaiting
my linguistics wrapped around tongue tied kisses
booty trapped on a deserted island
donning a patch to hide my third eye actions
teeth clenched tight
over spewing vowels of creamy delight
rook takes pawn inside the queen’s lair
now the bull lies in despair
with a
sword sticking from its side in a final coup de grâce
our screams of fornication
heard from miles afar
you, once adorned with royalty dress
our language has been attacked by evil no less
slang and ibonics have taken over
proper grammar has lost to the TakeOver
let me steal your mind again
and plant a seed for us to begin
a family of thoughts conceived from worlds apart
create man inside womb of woman
we will birth words that aren’t possibly human
insane flow
sick scribes
huge drops
steadily delivering hot words
filled with passion
pages left burnt, charred ashen
the pen is on fire
I write with ox blood
false phrases don’t fit
like Oj’s glove
my lyrical outfit
a B-boy hit
white on white shell-toe classics
mark ecko jeans with
a tight leather jacket
throw some fur on the collar
for that extra molasses
darkness
black even
vocabulary infused treasures so deep
you’d have to be a Pirate to see what I’m seeing
not from Pittsburgh or the seven seas
but an old school, break-dancing; skateboard rider
pirate of the streets
can u dig it?