Friday, November 20, 2009

This One

Sometimes I hear something and I like it, maybe even love it. But then there are those times I wish I wrote it... Dedicated to the late MJ whose 'In The Back' influenced its creation.

"This One"

This one made me come undone
Had me floating on day one
Crawled within my head
Reverberated layers
Like colors around the sun
And I loved it...

This one made me stop the run
Had me thinking what I'd done
Crawled upon my back
Twisted and rolled in undulations
Like I was giving some
And I loved it...

This one made me think of that one
That haunts my dreams
And then some
Shifting me to dance
Forth with truth upon my tongue
That I must compose one
Maybe two
Because that's what it do
And I love it...

This one made me come undone
Crawled within my bed
To have fun
Sex me
Love me
Since day one
Held me captive
With restraints none
But dreams don't last forever
Will I awake from this one?
But for now I'm overrun
And I love it...

Thursday, November 19, 2009

8th To Jefferson

I got fu-ducked up last night. Somehow, I managed to write a decent one...

"8th To Jefferson"

Her hands look dead.
Lifeless in their dance.

He looks scared.
Searching the environment
For a like-minded soul
Behind like-minded shades.

They converse.
To the products of entitlement
As every-other soul
In the resolution
Of the late scene
It's ignorance
Blind movement...

He tries to sleep
Awakened by the innate
Eyes upon him
Verse about him
Glancing to me
But too tired to care
As maybe someone else would.

Among this
I am me
Feverishly scribing
The moment come
Upon eyes looking to mine
Wondering why I stare
And write
Only to stare some more...

Wednesday, November 18, 2009


Like honey
He eased down my soul
Slow and steady
With the promises of love;
Tickling my tongue
He let me take him
Spread him about my mouth
To awaken a palate forgetful
Of the tease
Of the play
Of two bound
To horizons unending...

Like honey
I sought
To disperse him about
My brackish being
A balance made more intoxicating
By buttery dreams
His pollen brought to me
As I ebbed with the flow
Dipped in the things
About the history of him
Sweet and simple
As the honey I wish to place
Upon his lips
Parted with his smile
Next to his dreams
Under his soul
Which I long to hold...

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Tattoo You

Sometimes the ABM in me comes out...

"Tattoo You"

It would be heaven
To tattoo you
Stain you with my history
All over your body
Except for your face
Just because it would bring me joy;
The physical embodiment
Of the shame you already hide
That I must live with;
Despite my honest tries
To fit this vanilla cookie-cutter existence
I am reminded
The family
The church
That though I wish to live as
I still carry the Golgotha
Weight of representation
Because you won't let me
Feverishly holding on
To your legacy of abuse...

I'd love to tattoo you
Stain you
Everything except your face
With my history
To see who would be proud
As I am proud
Of my tattoo;
Would love for you to look in your mirror
See your beauty
What you had
Only to strip you
Exposing what you lost
What you stole
In the name of colonization
And that's only within the last fifty years...

Tattoo you
With my misery
And the mystery inherent with stares
That dissect me
Figure me
Pigeon me
One in the same;
Tattoo you
As I tattoo me
As you tattooed we
With your verse
Your seed;
Tattoo you
From the neck on down
Because despite the gray
It really is
A black and white world
Just ask the red
Beseech the blue
The shades in between
And your tattoo...

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Delusion Illusion

Let's see who can figure out who this piece is about... Now taking callers.

"Delusion Illusion"

Little girl
Little girl
Still living with your dolls
Locked within your fantasy
Do you hear reality's call?
That people all around you
Are old enough to see
These embellishments of the truth you spew
Are cause for laughter
In moments of other's privacy.

Little girl
Little girl
Why are you still on daddy's lap?
Why did you stem the rose
Dance down the aisle
Thinking waltz
When it was really tap?
What have you done
Subsequently these years
To brave the world so cold
But to toss away
Every possibility
To give yourself a soul;
We're getting old
We're getting old
And the stories are over-told
What amazes me
Is that you truly think
Your painting are so bold;
Like wonder said
You're spending most your life
Living in a pastime paradise
Ignoring your future
Letting it slip away
Thinking like always
Your past
Will come to save the day...

Little girl
Little girl
I shake my head in wonder
Take some ibuprofen for the shame
And realize I am thankful
We are not one in the same
I woke up long ago
Left the castle far away
Danced beneath stars so bright
Drunk upon my misery
Woke beneath an apple tree
Whose bark I used to make a home
Burned it's trunks
Through my winter
Just to keep me warm
Planted it's seeds to bare more fruit
Just to give away
Woke up from my long deep sleep
To find I was ok
As a man
Able to stand proud and tall
Planted firmly in the truth
Of it all...

He Who Remains

I figured it was about time I wrote my

"He Who Remains"

By he who remains
Simply here to stay
The soul's quite refrain
The world's sordid ways

By he is the truth
Unbiased in it's range
From the soul straight on to you

By he is the pain
Saw and felt and heard in such ways
His pen must offer proof
To existence of the higher plane

Simply here to stay
He who remains in the ways
True to the heart upon his sleeve
True to the prayers within his dreams

Monday, November 9, 2009

Junkie In A Slinky B

Several people inspired this poem from both my past and present. When I think of them, I am always reminded of what a comedian once asked... 'Who are the biggest liars?' His answer...well, you'll have to ask me face-to-face for that... Enjoy!

"Junkie In A Slinky B"

Got to get it in him
So he 'round my block
Everything behind and beyond
Iron gates;
Got ta get it in 'em
So he 'round
Chasing skirts
And I'm sure a few dicks in between
Tapping up
His Kentucky-fried Bojangles
Song and dance;
But he runs from me
Slinks away
Knows I'm unafraid to look
With the truth being
I think him to be
Far more interesting
Than the everyday staccato
He's junkie in a slinky b
smooth and deep
Thinking he's lying
While living the truth
That this shit is hard
And most of us
Aren't but a dead relative
Single paycheck
Government priority
Hospital stay
Best friend
Lost job
Lost soul
Away from him...

Got to get it in him
So he can dream
So he can sleep
scratch the itch of survival
Melt away in blue
Just so...

Saturday, November 7, 2009


I am a relic
A throwback to a time
On the cusp of forgotten
Dangerously dangling about
The edge of my grave
Waiting for that approaching storm
With it's bulbous protrusions
Laden with the damp misery
Of eradication
To blow me away into fossilization

A relic unappreciated
Or so I think
Because despite my influence
The world seems hell bent
On self-indulgence
For even I am guilty of it
Yet I hold to clearly obsolete practices
Not in tuned
With those who would have power
Long past their slave ships
Their plantations
Their shackles of the mind
Free to concentrate
On superiority of the conscience

A relic
Who melts
With the clarity of vinyl
Whose Idea of dinner
Involves a stove and mother
And waiting on daddy to get home
For his big piece of chicken
So the rest of us could eat;
A relic
Humbling himself to say 'mam'
Out of simple courtesy
And because
That's just the right thing to do;
A relic
Who wants to hold and touch
Taste and tease
Enjoying the inevitable victory
Of sweet moans and nothings in his ear
As he bonds for the long-haul
Through the poverty and wealth
Of any relationship;
A relic
Who would rather have
A few bits of quality
Over some compressed
Throw-away Ikea shit
Sold with the illusion of functionality
And affordability...

A relic
Who knows
Freedom and choice
Are outweighed only
By their profound cost
But sees that cost
Indebted away
On plastic cards
To make true the statement
That money doesn't make the world go round
But credit sure as hell does grease the axle...

A relic
One foot in his grave
The other on his computer screen
With cumulus fate overhead
And the world
On Facebook, Twitter, and MySpace

Black Note

Drawing up
The collar on my coat
I feel a black note coming on
Deep in the bass
Emotional thump
Best expressed
With a sway to my hips
The kind that entices
Between lit candles
Snifters of cognac
And licked lips
leading to procreation
Or at least the act of it;

Slipping into the joint
I pull down on the brim
Grooving my way through the crowd
The black note
Chilling me out
Warming my soul
Bringing me home
To the 'brew
On a col' train
Slinking it's way
Express to my love
And it's ravenous appetites
Longing to be quenched tonight;

Lost in the dip
Silent accompaniment
Black notes take me
Making me theirs
Making us
In unison connected
To the things we put away
But never forget;
I stumble home
Intoxicated by black note's elixir
Rejuvenated for the task at hand
Of adding my own black note
To the eternal dance...

The Supplication Of Me

I wanna bathe in your shower
Be cleansed by your power
Flow with you down your stream
Make you my everything
Song that I sing

I wanna make you my flower
Watch your petals bloom every hour
Place you in my window for all to see
Share the smile that you bring to me
Smell you everywhere upon a breeze

I wanna know you like my soul
Those mysteries to unfold
As I come to the heart of we
Understanding everything
That we were, are, shall be

I wanna feel you as my dream
Ample and bold like stars that scream
Overhead and beyond things
From which I attempt escape to be free;
Taste you like the sweetest thing
Hear you as a touching melody
Be you as complete as I am me
Off into the unknown of eternity...

Las Rosa Negro

A very special piece... Hint,hint ;o)

"Las Rosa Negro"

Plush ebony blooms
In fields of ivory
Rising from weeds
Seeking to strangle;
It's bouquet
Drifts upon the breeze
Enticing passer-by's
For the attention it desires;
It's petals unfurled
Lifted in triumph
Against backdrops of oppression
It sings quietly
Drawing them in
To behold it's splendor;
Ah lil' rosa negro
How long til adoration
Takes you upon it's shears?

Untitled #23

The inescapable truth
Is that my meadow's run dry
Gone to the sky unbound;
I wait for the rain
To return it to me
Quench my drought
To let spring forth
The foliage of comprehension
It's roots of wisdom
Deep in the soil of my conscience...

The unfortunate belief
Is that my soul's wilted
Pruned to petrification
A hardened stone
Where crystalline wishes
Beg reunion to the joy of God
But slow to a point
Of stillness...

Wednesday, November 4, 2009


New day, same 'ol shit.
The loss for words continues.
My hunger frustrates.


From out of the blue.
Into my thoughts and words.
I now read to you.