She wants to be a model and fashion designer,
but is unable to define her value…
He dreams of having his own rock band,
then awakens to the reality
that he cannot play the guitar… yet…
someone should give this boy a pick
to pluck himself off of strings
that stifle creativity
and teach this girl her worth…
have we forgotten our childhood?
playing hide and seek with best friends
and making our mothers set an extra plate for invisible ones
yes
back then it was acceptable to talk to yourself…
but
at some point
we are told thumb-sucking
and make believe
must stop
so comfort is jerked from our mouths
and covered with hot sauce
to keep us from suckling
but old habits die hard
and some addicts put lips to body parts of strangers
instead of to ends of pipes
searching for that same comfort
pretending that it's enjoyment
instead of suffering
oh
how I envy little Doras who are free to explore the limitless boundaries of imagination…
those little boys in blue
looking for clues
still taking the time to
"think... think… thi-i-ink…”
they are kaleidoscope representations of what we used to be
free
to examine color
texture
authority
and sexuality
we have grown up too quickly
with beanstalk expectations
when our seeds of faith
were never properly planted
vine-like insecurities spread tangled webs
that bare bitter fruit
left to sit
like family secrets
and we are drunk off of judgment…
we take two steps forward
just to land on our backs
with legs spread
bracing for self-esteem to enter…
splintered family trees
with rotten roots
fields overrun with weeds
we fertilize our communities
instead of actually tending to the garden…
it in no wonder why some men saw the opportunity to do right
and just left
babies to be raised by women who barely have enough strength left
nodding heads to 50 cent's hood anthem:
"have a baby by me, baby"
be a “baby momma”…
instead of
“raise a family with me, baby”
“I'm gonna be better than my father…”
see, the first step is admitting that there's a problem…
but we are so busy complaining about our situation
too complacent to buck a system that stigmatizes therapy
because they know
mental slavery is far more effective
than any cell
in any jail
or any shackle
on any plantation
so we speak in secrecy…
hiding coded messages of tears and frustration within lines of poetry…
praying that when we hit the stage… you’ll listen…
because this space is where we dig up buried treasure long forgotten in the sandboxes
of our spirits…
hand me a shovel…
help me uncover the person waiting
beneath layers of labels
that have shoved me inside of a box…
and when I am naked…
stripped down to the core of humanity…
that's when things can begin to change…
"that's when we can move"...
Monday, May 31, 2010
*BONUS* 1/30: FreshMen and Foundation
I hate myself for loving him so nakedly…
for so bashfully finding comfort in vulnerability…
muse running flirtatiously through the fields of my mind
and sometimes
I forget that he is human…
that it takes muscle to move mountains of monotony
and slice excavations into his own chest
every time he hits the stage
can you finally see his heart beating?
I was asked, if he didn’t display his soul so vividly
would I even notice him…?
but I’ve had x-ray eye surgery
so consider my vision permanently skewed…
the question is: would you?
would you judge a book by its cover?
masking scars with liquid foundation
because his
was never solid…
applaud his courage to even open his eyes in the morning
because he knows
that even though angels leave invisible lip prints in his slumber
demons with “friend” stitched into their smiles stand patiently by for his demise…
do you notice the glossiness of his eyes?
they are snapshots reflecting fear and racial profiling overcome instinctively
he is the most arrogant humble heart mine ever had the pleasure to beat on one accord with…
acoustic melody in a symphony of silence...
a double shot of espresso raspberry hot cocoa… soothingly elevating to my senses…
with a lionlike mindstate…
and a preacher’s poetic calling…
yet… at night…
he falls to knees like unrepentant harlots…
do you hear him?
sighing saxophone
in a room full of kazoos…
I will send up a prayer for him…
because somewhere
God is far too busy patting Himself on the back
to hear his mute confessions…
But, I hear you, poet…
I hear you…
for so bashfully finding comfort in vulnerability…
muse running flirtatiously through the fields of my mind
and sometimes
I forget that he is human…
that it takes muscle to move mountains of monotony
and slice excavations into his own chest
every time he hits the stage
can you finally see his heart beating?
I was asked, if he didn’t display his soul so vividly
would I even notice him…?
but I’ve had x-ray eye surgery
so consider my vision permanently skewed…
the question is: would you?
would you judge a book by its cover?
masking scars with liquid foundation
because his
was never solid…
applaud his courage to even open his eyes in the morning
because he knows
that even though angels leave invisible lip prints in his slumber
demons with “friend” stitched into their smiles stand patiently by for his demise…
do you notice the glossiness of his eyes?
they are snapshots reflecting fear and racial profiling overcome instinctively
he is the most arrogant humble heart mine ever had the pleasure to beat on one accord with…
acoustic melody in a symphony of silence...
a double shot of espresso raspberry hot cocoa… soothingly elevating to my senses…
with a lionlike mindstate…
and a preacher’s poetic calling…
yet… at night…
he falls to knees like unrepentant harlots…
do you hear him?
sighing saxophone
in a room full of kazoos…
I will send up a prayer for him…
because somewhere
God is far too busy patting Himself on the back
to hear his mute confessions…
But, I hear you, poet…
I hear you…
2/30: Acceptance Speech
As I began to write this, tears filled my eyes like seashore holes greeted by angry waves.
Hold your shovel high.
This award is for you.
I would like to thank the academy for acknowledging my talents.
I have dedicated many days and lonely nights to acting.
Pretending like my stomach wasn’t rumbling.
Hollow.
Remembering our plans to have it filled with our hybrid.
Chest just aching for heart to stop banging against it so quickly.
Throat wondering how spit could feel so heavy.
Yeah, baby…
This award is for you.
For all those times I had metals placed around my neck…
Trophies from hurdled insecurities left to collect dust upon the shelf…
For every ribbon penned on chest and every race won…
You missed it…
But, this is for you…
Even though it seemed you were only interested in people rolex watching me.
Boasting so brashly about my poetic abilities, but never enthusiastically planting your ass in an audience seat.
Begging to read my novel, then not even finishing it.
A paper racehorse with an injury.
You shot bullet holes into my dreams.
Crying on the bathroom floor with far two many pills numbing my senses.
And you walked in, hovered over, did what you had to, then turned to leave.
How could you look into the mirror in that moment and not see a monster?
How could savior and destroyer be one in the same?
Even you had to admit you never expected me to be this talented.
To “handle things this way”.
To not break
When you said my former best friend was pregnant with our baby.
That you couldn’t hate her.
Posting online that you love her.
Days earlier, telling me that you miss me.
Bravo, baby.
I voted you.
Please tell me when reality became a High School Musical?
When did you decide to forget your covenant with God and revert back to 12th grade?
Oh, husband of mine, can you hear the applause now?
We couldn’t script this.
Let’s rip this pulsating dagger from chest.
You can have it.
Here’s my self-esteem!
Grab it!
I don’t need it to build walls.
Let mine rival that of China.
Can’t believe you broke my hymen…
Best Drama…
Best Horror…
Baby, take your pick…
We deserve this moment…
We did it!
Here I stand…
A survivor of loving so Disney Princess-esque.
Let that pride that swells your chest
all peacock featherlike when they call my name
and I take the stage
be a reminder of how hard you have worked to get me here
Thank you…
motherfucka…
This award is for you…
Hold your shovel high.
This award is for you.
I would like to thank the academy for acknowledging my talents.
I have dedicated many days and lonely nights to acting.
Pretending like my stomach wasn’t rumbling.
Hollow.
Remembering our plans to have it filled with our hybrid.
Chest just aching for heart to stop banging against it so quickly.
Throat wondering how spit could feel so heavy.
Yeah, baby…
This award is for you.
For all those times I had metals placed around my neck…
Trophies from hurdled insecurities left to collect dust upon the shelf…
For every ribbon penned on chest and every race won…
You missed it…
But, this is for you…
Even though it seemed you were only interested in people rolex watching me.
Boasting so brashly about my poetic abilities, but never enthusiastically planting your ass in an audience seat.
Begging to read my novel, then not even finishing it.
A paper racehorse with an injury.
You shot bullet holes into my dreams.
Crying on the bathroom floor with far two many pills numbing my senses.
And you walked in, hovered over, did what you had to, then turned to leave.
How could you look into the mirror in that moment and not see a monster?
How could savior and destroyer be one in the same?
Even you had to admit you never expected me to be this talented.
To “handle things this way”.
To not break
When you said my former best friend was pregnant with our baby.
That you couldn’t hate her.
Posting online that you love her.
Days earlier, telling me that you miss me.
Bravo, baby.
I voted you.
Please tell me when reality became a High School Musical?
When did you decide to forget your covenant with God and revert back to 12th grade?
Oh, husband of mine, can you hear the applause now?
We couldn’t script this.
Let’s rip this pulsating dagger from chest.
You can have it.
Here’s my self-esteem!
Grab it!
I don’t need it to build walls.
Let mine rival that of China.
Can’t believe you broke my hymen…
Best Drama…
Best Horror…
Baby, take your pick…
We deserve this moment…
We did it!
Here I stand…
A survivor of loving so Disney Princess-esque.
Let that pride that swells your chest
all peacock featherlike when they call my name
and I take the stage
be a reminder of how hard you have worked to get me here
Thank you…
motherfucka…
This award is for you…
3/30: Blindfolds
When we make love
Eyes
tightly sealed
Heart
hummingbird wing flutters
Legs
tremble recklessly
Hands
grip at wrinkled sheets
Lip
indented by top of teeth
on the edge of insanity
trying to remember to breathe
don’t kiss me
thrust deeper
reverse cowgirl
head titled back
rising…
falling…
dripping…
praying…
moaning confirmations
vocal hesitation
fighting to focus
shrouded in darkness
please, don’t speak
I am trying to pretend you are him…
Eyes
tightly sealed
Heart
hummingbird wing flutters
Legs
tremble recklessly
Hands
grip at wrinkled sheets
Lip
indented by top of teeth
on the edge of insanity
trying to remember to breathe
don’t kiss me
thrust deeper
reverse cowgirl
head titled back
rising…
falling…
dripping…
praying…
moaning confirmations
vocal hesitation
fighting to focus
shrouded in darkness
please, don’t speak
I am trying to pretend you are him…
4/30: To Self...
Dear Jenise,
I am sorry for not loving you enough
For letting other people dictate your definition
For dressing you up in make-up and high heels
When I know how much you hate costumes
Forgive me
For allowing people to butcher you
With Gs and As
And accepting it
I have forgotten how to pronounce you
You sound
More foreign to my ears than Cambodian language
I have taken you for granted...
I am sorry for not loving you enough
For letting other people dictate your definition
For dressing you up in make-up and high heels
When I know how much you hate costumes
Forgive me
For allowing people to butcher you
With Gs and As
And accepting it
I have forgotten how to pronounce you
You sound
More foreign to my ears than Cambodian language
I have taken you for granted...
5/30: Currency
Penny for your thoughts…
Nickel for your observations…
Dime for your self-worth…
Dollar for your dreams…
A quarter
Slid into the silver box of your soul
Your mind is a jukebox
Let that shit play
Journey through stacks
Of long lost melodies
That used to rock you to sleep
Like climax retreats
Remember
Remember when we used to sing
When we would greet the sun
Before the birds even had a chance
To do vocal exercises
We used to exercise
Cords
Tongues
Teeth
Lips
Whispers and whistles
To remind us
Of home
Let’s return home
To latchkey memories
Christmases with no chimneys
Easter baskets
And Sunday shoes
Rhythm and blues
Blues and whites
Of skies
Neverending stories
Daring us to reach for stars
We used to glimmer
And glisten
Crystal clear
Like oceans
Bottles of tomorrow
Drifting lazily
Balloons released into the breeze
Like harmonies
Carried through neighbor’s windows
On Saturday mornings
But somewhere
At some point
Our records stopped spinning
Or skipped
Caught
On haunting melodies
Repeating negativities
“You are worthless”
“You are worthless”
“You are worthless”
Put hip to wood
Bump that shit
Slip another quarter
Into your soul
And let the soundtrack
To your life
Continue…
Nickel for your observations…
Dime for your self-worth…
Dollar for your dreams…
A quarter
Slid into the silver box of your soul
Your mind is a jukebox
Let that shit play
Journey through stacks
Of long lost melodies
That used to rock you to sleep
Like climax retreats
Remember
Remember when we used to sing
When we would greet the sun
Before the birds even had a chance
To do vocal exercises
We used to exercise
Cords
Tongues
Teeth
Lips
Whispers and whistles
To remind us
Of home
Let’s return home
To latchkey memories
Christmases with no chimneys
Easter baskets
And Sunday shoes
Rhythm and blues
Blues and whites
Of skies
Neverending stories
Daring us to reach for stars
We used to glimmer
And glisten
Crystal clear
Like oceans
Bottles of tomorrow
Drifting lazily
Balloons released into the breeze
Like harmonies
Carried through neighbor’s windows
On Saturday mornings
But somewhere
At some point
Our records stopped spinning
Or skipped
Caught
On haunting melodies
Repeating negativities
“You are worthless”
“You are worthless”
“You are worthless”
Put hip to wood
Bump that shit
Slip another quarter
Into your soul
And let the soundtrack
To your life
Continue…
6/30: TripleL-H Syndrome
I have this condition
that causes me
to make victims
of women
who don’t deserve
rusty razor blades
of my thoughts
to carve their names
leaving
clover-colored scars
on my heart
I have always hated you…
with an Ike and Tina addiction
and bruises
that tell stories
of battles
with my confidence
catapult
self-esteem into the sky
then burst into a room
and snap my wings
mid-flight
you remind me
of stop sign
to my marriage…
walk
as if you were born
two doors down
from privilege
smell
the sweet scent
of sibling rivalry
taste
like a pill
too bitter
to swallow
I am running out of options
and no "licensed professional"
has been able to help me
someone
please
find a cure
for those of us suffering
from Light-skinned Light-eyed Long-haired Heffa Syndrome…
that causes me
to make victims
of women
who don’t deserve
rusty razor blades
of my thoughts
to carve their names
leaving
clover-colored scars
on my heart
I have always hated you…
with an Ike and Tina addiction
and bruises
that tell stories
of battles
with my confidence
catapult
self-esteem into the sky
then burst into a room
and snap my wings
mid-flight
you remind me
of stop sign
to my marriage…
walk
as if you were born
two doors down
from privilege
smell
the sweet scent
of sibling rivalry
taste
like a pill
too bitter
to swallow
I am running out of options
and no "licensed professional"
has been able to help me
someone
please
find a cure
for those of us suffering
from Light-skinned Light-eyed Long-haired Heffa Syndrome…
7/30: Shards
The day that you broke my heart
the clouds refused to compete with my tears
because they knew they had already lost
and all of humanity complained about the drought
The sun refused to rise
unwilling to face me
I have never felt a day so cold
Tell me
When you realized infinity sign could be separated
why didn’t you tell me
instead of simply setting my bubble adrift?
How could you look into my eyes
and not drown
in the pools of persecution
I have withstood for you?
Tell me
When the truth dripped from your lips
like stomach acid
did it burn?
Did your earth quake
because mine did
Foundation ripped from underneath me
all magic carpet ride ending
mid-sentence
and you wonder why we are so afraid to give our hearts
in the first place
The day that you broke my heart
I watched shards of my self-esteem
trampled underneath the weight
of your inability
to be who I needed you to be
I decided to leave the broom in the corner
with the hope that one day
you will walk barefoot through memories of us
greeted joyously by piercing splinters
of your decisions
And realize
why on the day I left
all I took with me
were the tweezers…
the clouds refused to compete with my tears
because they knew they had already lost
and all of humanity complained about the drought
The sun refused to rise
unwilling to face me
I have never felt a day so cold
Tell me
When you realized infinity sign could be separated
why didn’t you tell me
instead of simply setting my bubble adrift?
How could you look into my eyes
and not drown
in the pools of persecution
I have withstood for you?
Tell me
When the truth dripped from your lips
like stomach acid
did it burn?
Did your earth quake
because mine did
Foundation ripped from underneath me
all magic carpet ride ending
mid-sentence
and you wonder why we are so afraid to give our hearts
in the first place
The day that you broke my heart
I watched shards of my self-esteem
trampled underneath the weight
of your inability
to be who I needed you to be
I decided to leave the broom in the corner
with the hope that one day
you will walk barefoot through memories of us
greeted joyously by piercing splinters
of your decisions
And realize
why on the day I left
all I took with me
were the tweezers…
8/30: Unshakeable
When the earthquake hit
I didn’t feel a thing
looked around at all the panicking people
wondering if they were all losing their minds
or if it was just me this time
after shock
rippled through cities
cracking open concrete
that damn near swallowed houses whole
I still felt nothing
but numbness
as if the tsunami of his infidelity
had consumed my ability to function properly
I have been trembling for over 5 months now
the ground is just finally catching up
and I’m sorry to hear about the devastation
but my insides have been cyclonic in an hourglass
swirling ceremonial sands of promises made to me
I am waiting for time to pass by
waiting for relief efforts to be made in my honor
call you Hurricane Dreamkiller
a 10.0 on the bullshit meter
break heart levees and let the flood come crashing down my self-esteem and pride
shoot lightening bolts of “remember-whens”
into empty womb
whenever our eyes meet
thunder cowers at the sound of my cries
have you ever seen mother nature petrified?
she shifts
destructively in skirted regions of the world
but her anxiety
can always be felt in our country
collapsed empires
lost cities
no blushing sunsets
open your history books and see the effects of a woman scorned by her lover
by a god lowercased by his own inability to grow up
so she throws up
entire oceans upon the undeserving
anger eclipses forgiveness
origami wings unfold into scriptures of broken covenant convictions
Pharaoh weeps in his grave
for the plague
you have brought upon yourself
may 10,000 broken promises
fall from glass ceilings
of stone-throwing
let your first-born dream
take its last breath
right before your eyes
may it die in your arms
hold it close
like I cradle my aborted visions of our forever
there is nothing natural
about disastrous realizations
that you have given up your pursuit of Mecca
for an infidel
she tells me
that my ground must be solid
and not easily shook
I tell her
that I’m just a fly ass construction worker
spackling potholes of faith
with poetry and music
and white elephant insecurities
that march my midnights restlessly
I am tired
of being
unshakeable...
I didn’t feel a thing
looked around at all the panicking people
wondering if they were all losing their minds
or if it was just me this time
after shock
rippled through cities
cracking open concrete
that damn near swallowed houses whole
I still felt nothing
but numbness
as if the tsunami of his infidelity
had consumed my ability to function properly
I have been trembling for over 5 months now
the ground is just finally catching up
and I’m sorry to hear about the devastation
but my insides have been cyclonic in an hourglass
swirling ceremonial sands of promises made to me
I am waiting for time to pass by
waiting for relief efforts to be made in my honor
call you Hurricane Dreamkiller
a 10.0 on the bullshit meter
break heart levees and let the flood come crashing down my self-esteem and pride
shoot lightening bolts of “remember-whens”
into empty womb
whenever our eyes meet
thunder cowers at the sound of my cries
have you ever seen mother nature petrified?
she shifts
destructively in skirted regions of the world
but her anxiety
can always be felt in our country
collapsed empires
lost cities
no blushing sunsets
open your history books and see the effects of a woman scorned by her lover
by a god lowercased by his own inability to grow up
so she throws up
entire oceans upon the undeserving
anger eclipses forgiveness
origami wings unfold into scriptures of broken covenant convictions
Pharaoh weeps in his grave
for the plague
you have brought upon yourself
may 10,000 broken promises
fall from glass ceilings
of stone-throwing
let your first-born dream
take its last breath
right before your eyes
may it die in your arms
hold it close
like I cradle my aborted visions of our forever
there is nothing natural
about disastrous realizations
that you have given up your pursuit of Mecca
for an infidel
she tells me
that my ground must be solid
and not easily shook
I tell her
that I’m just a fly ass construction worker
spackling potholes of faith
with poetry and music
and white elephant insecurities
that march my midnights restlessly
I am tired
of being
unshakeable...
11/30: Breakup
We whisper “I love you” between teardrops
Keep “I miss you” in palms of clenched fists
Use anger to mask pain
Your face looks so familiar
Like a monster I chased out of closets
But you’ve returned with more skeletons
Bury me
In the backyard of your priorities
So I will have time to think
In silence
You are cigarette burns to heart
That only wants to beat for you
And I wish
I no longer loved you...
Keep “I miss you” in palms of clenched fists
Use anger to mask pain
Your face looks so familiar
Like a monster I chased out of closets
But you’ve returned with more skeletons
Bury me
In the backyard of your priorities
So I will have time to think
In silence
You are cigarette burns to heart
That only wants to beat for you
And I wish
I no longer loved you...
12/30: Skin
What I love most about you
is that I don’t have to tell you
how to touch me
I don’t come
with instructions
you require no directions
we have done this a thousand times before
you already know how I like it
so move
to the rhythm of my shallow breaths
and heightening heart rate
shift
into a position that hits the spot
that resides
between ‘fuck’
and ‘hug’
love me
like you will never run out of energy
let me hold you
like lip being bit to contain the sinful praises
we have been doing this dance for far too many nights
and even during the day
when I feel somekindaway
you are always ready
held steady
pressure points send warning signals through my anatomy
electrical charges spark between my thighs
then rise
effervescently up my spine
eyes roll
toes curl
I can feel it in chest
don’t stop
don’t move
I’m not quite there yet
is that I don’t have to tell you
how to touch me
I don’t come
with instructions
you require no directions
we have done this a thousand times before
you already know how I like it
so move
to the rhythm of my shallow breaths
and heightening heart rate
shift
into a position that hits the spot
that resides
between ‘fuck’
and ‘hug’
love me
like you will never run out of energy
let me hold you
like lip being bit to contain the sinful praises
we have been doing this dance for far too many nights
and even during the day
when I feel somekindaway
you are always ready
held steady
pressure points send warning signals through my anatomy
electrical charges spark between my thighs
then rise
effervescently up my spine
eyes roll
toes curl
I can feel it in chest
don’t stop
don’t move
I’m not quite there yet
13/30: UnConditioned
I was born red
with a head
full of curly hair
…a Black Footed Cherokee…
quiet as breezes flirting with sequoias
skin drank the sunlight
thirsty for heritage
…a radiant African…
uneasily slaved to shackles of stereotypes
hips rotate to rhythms
mortal ears strain to be kissed by
ancestors play ceremonial drums for me
…a warrior of a West Indian…
accent punctuated slightly with island flavor
culture dripping from tongue
spirit is a melting pot
of seasoned attempts
to make me forget
my people
colonize my ambitions
march my beliefs single-file off of a cliff
lemming-like
blinded by the norm
…but, I see you
try as you might to contain me
box my determination
and ship me off
I will return in nightmares stamped “postage due”
neglect to declare my value
…you could never afford me
need I remind you,
doors were never opened to you?
raped your way into my blood stream
labeled me “Black sheep”
then kissed me, cousin
how dare you proclaim your son 3/5ths of a man
while your skeletons dance proudly across high school exams?
passing down notions
that we are nothing more
than dirt scraped off the boot
of American war heroes
…trample over our Trail of Tears
keep white-washing this nation
…the melanin bleeds through
you showed us to surgically scalp
then screamed, “Savages”
burned down my villages
molested
…murdered
……and pillaged
all in the name of “religion”?
wipe the massacre from my face
…I desire to be cleansed
please baptize me “civilized”
shampoo my thoughts…
…condition my heart…
……comb through insecurities
……… brush doubts into submission…
make me over
into who I was
before you decided
you were God…
with a head
full of curly hair
…a Black Footed Cherokee…
quiet as breezes flirting with sequoias
skin drank the sunlight
thirsty for heritage
…a radiant African…
uneasily slaved to shackles of stereotypes
hips rotate to rhythms
mortal ears strain to be kissed by
ancestors play ceremonial drums for me
…a warrior of a West Indian…
accent punctuated slightly with island flavor
culture dripping from tongue
spirit is a melting pot
of seasoned attempts
to make me forget
my people
colonize my ambitions
march my beliefs single-file off of a cliff
lemming-like
blinded by the norm
…but, I see you
try as you might to contain me
box my determination
and ship me off
I will return in nightmares stamped “postage due”
neglect to declare my value
…you could never afford me
need I remind you,
doors were never opened to you?
raped your way into my blood stream
labeled me “Black sheep”
then kissed me, cousin
how dare you proclaim your son 3/5ths of a man
while your skeletons dance proudly across high school exams?
passing down notions
that we are nothing more
than dirt scraped off the boot
of American war heroes
…trample over our Trail of Tears
keep white-washing this nation
…the melanin bleeds through
you showed us to surgically scalp
then screamed, “Savages”
burned down my villages
molested
…murdered
……and pillaged
all in the name of “religion”?
wipe the massacre from my face
…I desire to be cleansed
please baptize me “civilized”
shampoo my thoughts…
…condition my heart…
……comb through insecurities
……… brush doubts into submission…
make me over
into who I was
before you decided
you were God…
15/30: Dear Mistress
Dear Mistress,
Thank you for fucking my husband.
And for not having the decency
to ask him
to use protection.
Silly me for forgetting
that sluts
don’t have manners.
I never blamed you
because I know your type.
As you whored your way through our first two years of high school,
I defended you.
My sister.
All biracial broken between being a rainbow and receptacle.
Don’t you know how much I loved you?
When they were putting you down,
I stood up for you.
All 115 pounds of me was ready to go to war for you.
You Trojan horse of a trollop…
When he confessed,
I gave you a standing ovation.
True story. Go ahead. Ask him.
However did you have the patience
to wait over 8 years
to fuck a man
who never felt you were good enough to marry?
Or even be his girlfriend…
Tell me
when he slid into you
did you see my initials tattooed on his arm?
See my name on his finger?
Or did the wedding band I bought cover it?
Did the skies cry as he broke our covenant?
As he came
did you feel all the brimstone he released into you?
Karma is a bitch.
You two must be related.
Hate to tell you,
but he only slept with you
because he was spiraling out of control
and you,
my dear,
are rock bottom on a road map to self-destruction.
Granted,
you snuck in just when he was pushing me away.
But,
when we were good,
baby girl,
he never looked your way.
Don’t you think that if he REALLY loved you,
he would’ve married YOU
instead of ME?
Or left ME for YOU?
Did he tell you I told him it was over?
Did he tell you how he broke in front of me?
Hate to tell you,
but if not for the child within your womb,
we might be working it out…
And I would’ve smacked the shit outta your trifling ass months ago.
But, I feel sorry for you.
I have always felt
so sorry
for you.
Such a beautiful girl.
With such an ugly occupation.
Racehorse with an injury
It is hard to hate that which you pity.
I hope you two are happy.
That you both start loving yourselves enough to break cycles of dysfunction.
And that your child
never feels
like the bastard
that you and my husband
have created him to be…
I mean
if he even IS the father...
Thank you for fucking my husband.
And for not having the decency
to ask him
to use protection.
Silly me for forgetting
that sluts
don’t have manners.
I never blamed you
because I know your type.
As you whored your way through our first two years of high school,
I defended you.
My sister.
All biracial broken between being a rainbow and receptacle.
Don’t you know how much I loved you?
When they were putting you down,
I stood up for you.
All 115 pounds of me was ready to go to war for you.
You Trojan horse of a trollop…
When he confessed,
I gave you a standing ovation.
True story. Go ahead. Ask him.
However did you have the patience
to wait over 8 years
to fuck a man
who never felt you were good enough to marry?
Or even be his girlfriend…
Tell me
when he slid into you
did you see my initials tattooed on his arm?
See my name on his finger?
Or did the wedding band I bought cover it?
Did the skies cry as he broke our covenant?
As he came
did you feel all the brimstone he released into you?
Karma is a bitch.
You two must be related.
Hate to tell you,
but he only slept with you
because he was spiraling out of control
and you,
my dear,
are rock bottom on a road map to self-destruction.
Granted,
you snuck in just when he was pushing me away.
But,
when we were good,
baby girl,
he never looked your way.
Don’t you think that if he REALLY loved you,
he would’ve married YOU
instead of ME?
Or left ME for YOU?
Did he tell you I told him it was over?
Did he tell you how he broke in front of me?
Hate to tell you,
but if not for the child within your womb,
we might be working it out…
And I would’ve smacked the shit outta your trifling ass months ago.
But, I feel sorry for you.
I have always felt
so sorry
for you.
Such a beautiful girl.
With such an ugly occupation.
Racehorse with an injury
It is hard to hate that which you pity.
I hope you two are happy.
That you both start loving yourselves enough to break cycles of dysfunction.
And that your child
never feels
like the bastard
that you and my husband
have created him to be…
I mean
if he even IS the father...
18/30: Intro to “You Are Beautiful”
How much time do we spend staring into a mirror trying to decide who we want to be today?
Pull out pencil and brush to paint a portrait of perfection
Yet when men
With genuine hearts and sincere intentions compliment us
We dismiss them
How often
Do we cringe
As soon as Halle Berry
Angelina Jolie
Kim Kardashian
Or Beyonce
Pops up on the tv screen?
Open magazines to lower self-esteem
And we could blame society
But, ladies
Let’s be honest
It’s our faults
Because we compete with airbrush
Knowing full well that God sculpted each of us as masterpiece
How dare you
Ever feel anything less that beautiful
How dare you forget
That the color of your skin does not define you...
Pull out pencil and brush to paint a portrait of perfection
Yet when men
With genuine hearts and sincere intentions compliment us
We dismiss them
How often
Do we cringe
As soon as Halle Berry
Angelina Jolie
Kim Kardashian
Or Beyonce
Pops up on the tv screen?
Open magazines to lower self-esteem
And we could blame society
But, ladies
Let’s be honest
It’s our faults
Because we compete with airbrush
Knowing full well that God sculpted each of us as masterpiece
How dare you
Ever feel anything less that beautiful
How dare you forget
That the color of your skin does not define you...
20/30: Walls
I…
Walls were meant to be torn down…
II…
There is no way of knowing if we are trying to keep others out or trying to keep ourselves in…
III…
There is a big difference…
IV…
There is a brick for every eXpectation that led to disappointment. For every broken heart, broken promise, and fragment of innocence. Life makes us into masons, so do not judge the dimensions of mine while you hide behind your own…
V…
I dare you to climb mine. Put in the effort it takes to understand its purpose. Scale with no harness. Nothing to catch you if you fall. And should you reach the top, peer over. I will acknowledge your accomplishment. And, maybe, I will pull a brick from its place…
VI…
I will not be holding my breath during your eXpedition…
VII…
Your wall is not as high as you think it is. And you’re not as crafty as you claim yourself to be. You left an opening… a peephole… to spy on those who try to reach you. Watch us stand at the gate… knocking… calling… crying… You observe. Do not respond. Do not offer entrance. You press ear to door. Listen closer. Take delight in our pain. But, what you don’t realize is that I’ve found your secret. I can see you, too…
VIII…
Instead of building up, you’ve built in. Layering foundation after foundation. Ritualistic brick-laying. It is a wonder you can even breathe at all. You have entombed yourself. So far from the rest of humanity. I can hear your heart beating. Loudly. Door knocker banging against bone. Calling to be released. But, I can only climb. Stretch forth arms, but I can’t reach you. How I wish that I could see you…
IX…
I have all the necessary hardware to demolish the cemented insecurities that keep us from getting closer. But, I highly doubt you’re worth the labor…
X…
Here… Have another brick…
Walls were meant to be torn down…
II…
There is no way of knowing if we are trying to keep others out or trying to keep ourselves in…
III…
There is a big difference…
IV…
There is a brick for every eXpectation that led to disappointment. For every broken heart, broken promise, and fragment of innocence. Life makes us into masons, so do not judge the dimensions of mine while you hide behind your own…
V…
I dare you to climb mine. Put in the effort it takes to understand its purpose. Scale with no harness. Nothing to catch you if you fall. And should you reach the top, peer over. I will acknowledge your accomplishment. And, maybe, I will pull a brick from its place…
VI…
I will not be holding my breath during your eXpedition…
VII…
Your wall is not as high as you think it is. And you’re not as crafty as you claim yourself to be. You left an opening… a peephole… to spy on those who try to reach you. Watch us stand at the gate… knocking… calling… crying… You observe. Do not respond. Do not offer entrance. You press ear to door. Listen closer. Take delight in our pain. But, what you don’t realize is that I’ve found your secret. I can see you, too…
VIII…
Instead of building up, you’ve built in. Layering foundation after foundation. Ritualistic brick-laying. It is a wonder you can even breathe at all. You have entombed yourself. So far from the rest of humanity. I can hear your heart beating. Loudly. Door knocker banging against bone. Calling to be released. But, I can only climb. Stretch forth arms, but I can’t reach you. How I wish that I could see you…
IX…
I have all the necessary hardware to demolish the cemented insecurities that keep us from getting closer. But, I highly doubt you’re worth the labor…
X…
Here… Have another brick…
21/30: Storms
When it rains like this
I want to curl up under the covers
And get lost in my imagination...
I want to curl up under the covers
And get lost in my imagination...
24/30: Club Rules
A woman enters the club on a mission
Flex her choreography skills
Ride the melodic wave
Open arms and embrace the beat
She notices him watching
Intrigued by the way she moves
Never enough to convey interest
They flirt
He wants to approach her
Eyes her, but knows
Club rules will keep away
Limited by social standards
Understand his boys will question him
Because she doesn’t have a perm...
Flex her choreography skills
Ride the melodic wave
Open arms and embrace the beat
She notices him watching
Intrigued by the way she moves
Never enough to convey interest
They flirt
He wants to approach her
Eyes her, but knows
Club rules will keep away
Limited by social standards
Understand his boys will question him
Because she doesn’t have a perm...
25/30: Fire Extinguishers & Ice Sculptures
melt this ice sculpture of a heart
let insecurities drip into puddle and evaporate
reshape my ideals of love
I need to believe again…
you
be the catalyst to chrysalis
butterfly wing this caterpillar crush
I want to spread wings…
at eagle elevations
and nosedive
free-falling into an abyss of “what ifs”
I want to take risks…
draw a line in the sand
just to cross it
ignite a fire within
keep your extinguisher
let it burn
I want to feel… … … …something…
something that reminds me what it’s like
to be human
because the frostbite
has numbed my senses
and I find myself
wishing
for summer…
let insecurities drip into puddle and evaporate
reshape my ideals of love
I need to believe again…
you
be the catalyst to chrysalis
butterfly wing this caterpillar crush
I want to spread wings…
at eagle elevations
and nosedive
free-falling into an abyss of “what ifs”
I want to take risks…
draw a line in the sand
just to cross it
ignite a fire within
keep your extinguisher
let it burn
I want to feel… … … …something…
something that reminds me what it’s like
to be human
because the frostbite
has numbed my senses
and I find myself
wishing
for summer…
26/30: For The Skinny Chicks…
being a Black female
and having a high metabolism
is like being a Black person
and not liking chicken…
or kool-aide…
or watermelon…
‘cause that’s what we eat, right?
and a Black girl
is supposed to have curves!
booty that barely fits into jeans
bra runneth over with bountiful breasts
news flash:
just because my waist is small
and my clothes fit
doesn’t mean God hasn’t blessed me
with a Victoria’s Secret body
you know: the body!
the ones women pay millions of dollars
to get for the summer
Yeah, I kinda have that!
I also have an insatiable addiction to Twix
and any other confection
that would ruin your plans
for the perfect beach body
so you can take your stereotypes
and shove them…
and having a high metabolism
is like being a Black person
and not liking chicken…
or kool-aide…
or watermelon…
‘cause that’s what we eat, right?
and a Black girl
is supposed to have curves!
booty that barely fits into jeans
bra runneth over with bountiful breasts
news flash:
just because my waist is small
and my clothes fit
doesn’t mean God hasn’t blessed me
with a Victoria’s Secret body
you know: the body!
the ones women pay millions of dollars
to get for the summer
Yeah, I kinda have that!
I also have an insatiable addiction to Twix
and any other confection
that would ruin your plans
for the perfect beach body
so you can take your stereotypes
and shove them…
27/30: Anti
This is my anti-poem poem
Just rambling
Trying to make sense
Of actions someone else
Chose
Wondering if he thinks of me
Wondering what it feels like
To be in his skin
Is it lonely?
Is it crowded in his mind?
Do his thoughts race?
Do I cross the finish lime?
If I could walk a mile
In his shoes
Then how far
Will socks take me…?
Just rambling
Trying to make sense
Of actions someone else
Chose
Wondering if he thinks of me
Wondering what it feels like
To be in his skin
Is it lonely?
Is it crowded in his mind?
Do his thoughts race?
Do I cross the finish lime?
If I could walk a mile
In his shoes
Then how far
Will socks take me…?
29/30: Nickname
We met today
on the corner of congruency
for once
the sway of the see-saw had ceased
and I could see you
all lightening bolt brilliance that eyes caught months before heart could comprehend
felt quickening of heart beat pumping through veins
could smell
the aroma of arrogance waiting to burst free from insecurity
hear
the nickname in voice creep off tepid tongue
taste
sweet deliverance
tried not to consume so much
of all the muses that have ever bled from my pen
you are by far the most worthy…
on the corner of congruency
for once
the sway of the see-saw had ceased
and I could see you
all lightening bolt brilliance that eyes caught months before heart could comprehend
felt quickening of heart beat pumping through veins
could smell
the aroma of arrogance waiting to burst free from insecurity
hear
the nickname in voice creep off tepid tongue
taste
sweet deliverance
tried not to consume so much
of all the muses that have ever bled from my pen
you are by far the most worthy…
30/30: Metamorphosis
I am climbing into my cocoon today…
please forgive me if the kiss of your brilliance does not arouse me from my slumber…
I am dreaming of growing wings…
please forgive me if the kiss of your brilliance does not arouse me from my slumber…
I am dreaming of growing wings…
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