17 of 30

Supernova

It started when the stars came out
You and I on outdoor blankets laying about
Counting constellations
Plotting our journey with blades of grass and tree bark
The moon caressed us as you caressed me
My skin milky brown in the glow of Earth's satellite
Your lips full with spoken promises and as yet unspent kisses
My mouth beckoning and delicious
My summer dress moving in the breeze and your exploring hands
Your fingers fondle their way to my tiny pink panties
I giggle back moans and inhale your cologne
Your tongue tickles a trail from my bottom lip to the very end of my collarbone
I no longer care if we've remained alone in our dark corner of the park
There is just the breeze
Your fingers and tongue
And Earth's satellite watching my universe expand

16 of 30

Deadlines are dead but the poetry lives on...


Divorced

Fuck jesus
I wept
Shed blood and tears to make the unworkable work
I put in work
Worked my fingers to the bloody bone
Ground my shoulders against the boulders until my heart felt like stone
A marriage of misery and deceit
You trod upon my loyalty with glad feet
Me pregnant with our possibilities harboring hostility because of your infidelity
I sang sweet melodies to our child in utero hoping my tear stained voice would help her to grow
Grow into the woman I was not at that time
I whined, begged, pleaded to be needed by you
Cooked your food, ironed your clothes and fucked you too
Not enough, not good enough, I took enough of your shit to start a swine farm
When you grabbed, shook and pushed my autonomic nervous system rang an alarm
Time to go
Pack and don't look back
Take the babies and flee
And life became real
I faced it with zeal
Free of of the enslavement I traded my maiden name for
Closed the door on the poor girl who knew not womanhood
I stood on my own, made a home for me and my seeds
Free of you and your misdeeds
And now I am triumphant
I weep no more

15 of 30

Though I am well past the deadline...still, I keep...going...

Familial

This forever type love that moves through me

From me

To and through you

Beyond us

Somewhere

Up high

On high

Higher than high

Borne of blood

Bone

Tears

Struggle

We gave birth to it

With whispers and screams
Soul to soul
From spirit

From synapses to testes, tongue to womb

Woven on the loom of our ancestors

Brought to fruition in the valley of perdition

But with hope of a new day

Beyond scorched earth

Bittersweet fruit, plump with the juice of perpetuum

Seeded in Elysium

This love

From them to us and back again

We swam through time

Time and time again

Against time

Attempting to take back what was taken

This forever type love

Unshaken

Unshakable

Unbroken

Enduring

From me

To and through you

Beyond us

In our daughter's eyes

And she sees the forever type love

In you

And me

14 of 30

Though I missed the deadline I'm still trucking on...


 Heart of Mercy


I stared into the depths and there saw my self
My reflection infinity
Hypnotized by my burgeoning divinity
Blessed with an affinity for loving the broken and battered
It never mattered that they left me shattered once I healed them and set them free
For me, the act of restoring is an expression of the god I see in them, those and thee
Though low I sink so much higher shall I soar
Wealth of spirit moving within me, heart of mercy adored
And again, I stared into the depths and there saw my self
Unfathomable

Lately...

Lately I've felt as if my words were stuck somewhere inside of me...afraid to come out. I've been spending most of my time in my own head, venturing out every once in a while to shoot sparks, and then I climb back into the safety of my mind. Perhaps it's time to share?

I'm in an odd place right now. I have concerns, but I'm not panicking. There are things I want, but I live in abundance not lack. My seeds challenge me daily, but I'm cool after I count to ten. My job is one of the many levels of hell, but I'm only burning for six hours a day. I eat and sleep very little, but I'm still healthy. All in all...I'm good. That's it for now.

13 of 30

I missed the deadline but I'm still trucking on...

The Replacement

I remember when

His words were written for me

Now they are for her

12 of 30

I recently accepted a challenge created by one of my twitter friends called 30 in 30. The idea is to write/post a new poem every day for 30 days. This promises to be very interesting for me seeing as how I've been going through some personal struggles as of late. At any rate, here's my eleventh offering...

Valid

No, I'm not sorry.

I feel what I feel. It's real.

I won't be dismissed.

11 of 30

I recently accepted a challenge created by one of my twitter friends called 30 in 30. The idea is to write/post a new poem every day for 30 days. This promises to be very interesting for me seeing as how I've been going through some personal struggles as of late. At any rate, here's my eleventh offering...

Image is Nothing

Almond eyed vixen

Clothed in bronze magnificence

Her tongue spews poison

10 of 30

I recently accepted a challenge created by one of my twitter friends called 30 in 30. The idea is to write/post a new poem every day for 30 days. This promises to be very interesting for me seeing as how I've been going through some personal struggles as of late. At any rate, here's my tenth offering...

 HIM HE I ME US WE

HE came along when everyone else was leaving

When everything was falling apart, HE picked up the pieces

HE fitted ME and them and HIM together like jigsaws

HE loved ME more than I loved myself at the time

HE told ME I could do anything and I believed HIM and started doing everything

HE helped ME fly by telling ME not to look down

HE was there for ME during some of my most challenging times

HE  introduced ME to Goodie Mob, OutKast, self-love, philosophy, tenderness, spiritual sex and simple pleasures

HE told ME I was beautiful all over but most importantly and most beautiful on the inside

HE kissed my stretchmarks as willingly and as often as HE kissed my lips

HE wrote ME poetry and chewed the gum out of my mouth

HE spread sunblock on my bronze skin and spread my legs and let HIMself in  

HE loved my children and read them bedtime stories and tucked them in bed at night

HE had character, integrity, dignity, honor, HE kept HIS word, never lied to ME and never cheated on ME

HE was a REAL MAN

HE is the main reason I will never turn my back on black men

HE set a standard, HE showed ME how it's done

HE never let ME quit anything

But HIS heart quit on HIM

Had HE lived, perhaps WE'D have had more pretty long limbed babies with HIS determination and laugh and my strength and eyes

WE exchanged rings...I still have both of mine

WE made promises to each other but HE passed away before HE could keep HIS promises

I miss HIS lips quoting Malcolm and Aristotle

I miss HIS fingers on my collarbone

I miss HIS nose deep in books

I miss running my fingers through HIS waves

I miss watching HIM play basketball...HE SOARED

I miss HIS hand in mine

I keep HIS picture in my panty drawer and HIS memory close at hand

HE was an incredible man

I'M invoking HIS name in hopes that HE will know that though HE is gone...

HE will never ever be forgotten

DANTE   DANTE   DANTE   DANTE   DANTE   DANTE   DANTE

9 of 30

I recently accepted a challenge created by one of my twitter friends called 30 in 30. The idea is to write/post a new poem every day for 30 days. This promises to be very interesting for me seeing as how I've been going through some personal struggles as of late. At any rate, here's my ninth offering...



The Soft Place

Caught up between his rock and my soft place
We inhabit a space created by love's first kiss
His face peeks at me from between my thighs
His eyes find mine and he licks his lips
His fingers dance on the soft undersides of my knees
His hands pull my body closer...closer...and still closer
My gripping fingers give the linens a squeeze
His talented tongue rapidly races over my honeyed hive
My pretty mouth forms a perfect O
Every nerve ending feels alive
Deeper and deeper he digs and I push closer and closer to his mouth
He laps and sucks as if his soul is experiencing a drought
I try to run from the inevitable but he gives chase
Holding me firmly, he locks me in place
He changes his pattern, decreases his pace
His fingers tap upon the door and then let themselves inside me
Now his tongue, index and middle conspire to release the floodgates
I writhe and moan...caught up between his rock and my soft place

8 of 30

I recently accepted a challenge created by one of my twitter friends called 30 in 30. The idea is to write/post a new poem every day for 30 days. This promises to be very interesting for me seeing as how I've been going through some personal struggles as of late. At any rate, here's my eighth offering...



Mood Swing


Occular condensation threatening to fall
Stinging the rim, ruining the kohl liner
Fingers tremble
Phrases dance dizzily along the synapses
Firing
Misfiring
Misaligned
Malignant emotions pouring forth from her subtle spirit
Deeper than oceans
Same sad song sung by pouting ruby lips
Tipping hats to cats that feel most comfortable on hot tin roofs
She's proof that loyalty goes unrewarded
Lavender happy-go-lucky to moody blue could have been avoided
Joy skipped away hand-in-hand with peace and now...
Dis-ease runs amuck
What the fuck?
Switch it up


There will be no more raining on this here parade
Take your tired, wish I wish I wish making ass to those who like playing charades
I'm made of something you can't even handle
I'm a solar storm and you're a fucking candle
Your wick is burning out and so is my patience
Do better or be gone
I'm done

7 of 30

I recently accepted a challenge created by one of my twitter friends called 30 in 30. The idea is to write/post a new poem every day for 30 days. This promises to be very interesting for me seeing as how I've been going through some personal struggles as of late. At any rate, here's my seventh offering...

The Time Machine

Small device with an illuminated button face

It took me back back back

It vibrated and his picture showed up

I hit the green button and his voice transported me

We've not spoken in a while

Usually, I don't care

Today was different

His voice to my nerves...

Like Mozart's fingers on keys

And only because right now...I'm feeling lonely

Feeling neglected

Feeling horny

But the path to him is brambled and thorny

Pain and shame lie in wait

Ready to accost me

He would cost me my self-respect

So, I check the clock

Make small talk

And leave the reverie right where it belongs

Something in the past

6 of 30

I recently accepted a challenge created by one of my twitter friends called 30 in 30. The idea is to write/post a new poem every day for 30 days. This promises to be very interesting for me seeing as how I've been going through some personal struggles as of late. At any rate, here's my sixth offering...



Gun Slinger

Brass casings. Load. Lock.
I'm ready to shoot my glock.
I'm aimed at your head.