A Poem about Sappho

I look like the Taino.
Who, although I’ve never met,
I like to think I do.
With dark brown hair
that has bad the sun’s fingers
brush it as though,
it were my lover.
My skin is
too naturally sweet
for many of these other islanders,
thus creating
that whispered name, “Mud”.
Such a contradiction
to the name, “Violet”.
Though maybe it’s not.
Still I look like the Taino.
Maybe though,
if I looked like Sappho,
I’d be more beautiful.
But I’m part Atabey, part Prithvi.
Beautiful fragrances
mixing with my texture so earthly.
Yet I don’t look like Sappho
so I’m not beautiful.
But you never know
with an oddity like me.
Their idea of beauty
is not for what I’m aspiring.
So despite my “name”,
I have no shame,
because I look like the Taino.

 

Crystal Love

I believe in a heaven
existing between clear thighs
or in golden brown eyes
disguised as worldly things
to be despised 
when they are the desires 
some will expire to possess.
Am I wrong? 
Others know a hell
while hiding in silence
made from darkness and emptiness
after a crispness
that that experience each morning since…
Doing ‘this’ for reasons
that others won’t allow to be present
due to their virtuous ignorance.
Are they wrong? 
There is no sanctum. 
No righteousness
but the one
we created after being magnets
for millions of atoms
to collide in a way
that we pretend makes sense.
We balance on delicate string
knowing anything
could break them.
We are going 
to the heaven and hell
we were sentenced to.
There is chance for innocence. 
Not when secular ‘gods’ rule

A Stranger’s Love (A Shadow’s Lucid Dreams)

Watching my wrists hold an abyss
as I dress in darkness
with atoms rearranged from our chemistry
to become a new me.
Thoughts from drinking.
Yet I make do.
The one thing
always dancing in my cerebellum…
is you. 
So…
I’m not too overcome
by rum to remember good times
and then some…
Tie tied tight, embracing the night
like I might
do something right
if no one’s watching. 
Dressed to compress my insides,
like a shadow 
I’m close. 
Like a shadow
with enough light,
I’m more of a boast. 
I only exist with others.
And we’ve been dreaming awake. 
Paralyzed,
cause my eyes have seen
what we could mean
in refusing to be roused.
Though in the back drop
of us dreaming
I fell asleep again.
I want to believe 
that somehow we can be.
I grab my suit
to dress for the judging society
in which we’re living.
Then I go
to live impossible dreams. 

My Reason for Boston

I enter his room
Abruptly beginning,
“I thought about love and dreams, 
everything in between,
And if you had been with me,
You would know what I mean.
When I left here
I kept noticing
how pavement and rubber
is so deafening.
Roaring in my ear
whispering thing I refused to hear.
Everything won’t be okay
if we keep holding on.
Only if we move along
We’re sure things are fine.
That’s our minds’ eternal sunshine
ignoring the dark night,
the shadows slinking.
I’ve been running so much
my dreams couldn’t find me.
I’m losing control
my soul is only
love, drugs, and monotony. 
I don’t know who I am
but I never thought
this would be me. 
I don’t know
where I am now
but I refuse to continue
to be held down.”
I ended
waiting for what he’d say.
Nothing.
Then,
“Okay.” 

Settling

How will I sleep
if I keep
images of you
in my head?
I took a walk
to talk to myself
hoping you’d slip my mind
long enough to find peace.
Yet something triggers memories
till endlessly I’m thinking.
Velvet skies.
So impossible.
Vermillion plateaus.
Unreachable.
Verdant mountains.
Unconquerable.
My ears burn
while scarlet streams roar
as I remember whore
that can’t compare anymore
to your liberty.
You are
the hill of Aripo.
Refusing to be climbed. 
The untameable wild.
The unteachable golden child. 
Why must you be conquered? 
So I shall find,
by leaving behind
clumsy desires creeping through my mind,
beauties I can grasp.

Till Next year

Dare all out there. For the rest of the year I will not be putting out any poems or raps. I’m currently working on a short story that will be compiled from poems on here and other ones I have written. 

I am also in the process of trying to get publish. WISH ME LUCK!!!!

I’ll be posing entirely regularly every week beginning January 7th, 2014. I am truly sorry for not being so regular as I want to. But I am very happy for the support that has been given up until now. So thank you to everyone that reads my work. I hope to have great work soon.

Before the Walk Out

Getting dressed slowly
she stretches like a lioness
with no reservations.
My body on vacation
I admire the view
that recently
was stormy weather. 
She slips into jeans
then crawls between me and sheets
pawing like a kitten
with the smile of a raccoon
as she looked up
from the dark of covers. 
I could tell
from the way she lied
when talking to
since she nuzzled against my breast
demanding a caress that fabric
ruined. 
“Let’s go out,” 
she purred. 
My eyes shifted 
to the raining outside.
She was 
the sad ghost of a woman
wanting to swim
in the same lake she drowned.

The Party Before

The problem with driving
was surviving the return
while in a daze,
constantly amazed at life,
even though
you’re walking a tight rope
millions of miles from Earth.
But we weren’t close
and I found walking difficult. 
Planning while sober
to not get pulled over
living in the moment
existing in laughter at jokes
and sleeping in green pastures
that were all all in your head.
That’s how these nights tend to go
My friends are welcoming enough
in that
they don’t mind my guest
though half the time
with her hiding behind me
I wonder if they know she exists.
I coast from person to person
conversing with the few people there
and yeah…I would like to skip
to the fun part
but I can’t seem desperate.
She drifts
a leash keeping her.
As they are starting
her and I 
sit in a circle.
My friend passes a cigarette.
I take a drag
while she quickly passes.
The can of soda
that she nervously hold
may do the job though.
Her eyes open to show
pupils dilated
and my friends know,
as one laughs,
and she falls on her back
as though pushed.
i glance at her
with a grin
then place the tab on my tongue. 

Dichotomies of Fantasies (Conflicts of Religion)

I kept a soft spoken
joking
counter to the place
while 2nd hand drugs and drinks
are shoved into my face.
A carbon jail
in each case,
no fault in grey matters.
But who we were
and who we are
never equal after.
Relationships are sinking ships
like an albatross
is the cross
that is choking me.
That’s not my fault.
Despite what
faith justifies
“life” ain’t reality
“Truth” is testimony
with innocence and accidents
as lies we’re always seeing.
Youths on the right track
will still drown in love
if they only know being.
But imma let streetcars pass
as my desire for that below Georgia
puts me on blast
about relationships
with no chance to last
cause I judge people
with values that I never even had.
Sometimes we remember things
thinking we hear angels sing
with sounds just like
how demons scream…
We believe
we are who we say we are
which still places us
closer to the evil
that we say we aren’t.

Sans

It’s not me grieving over this.
Just over the lost of innocence.
Trying to find resilience.
Making sense of this
and all the moral problems we present.
I could sell flame to the devil
in the way I sold my soul.
A silver tongue demon
but you have a tongue of gold
to keep your friends believing
all your lies.
So pleasant to the eyes
hiding under a disguise.
They can’t see below the surface.
For you that’s perfect….
Is honesty really worth it?
I do good things with malicious intent.
Each action causing resentment.
The road to hell is paved with self contentment.
I feel a storm I can’t control.
It can’t be described.
Nothing fits into a mold.
I’m the asshole
your parents warned you about
But on the inside
I’m the innocent kid
that can’t go out.
I’m gullible
like how I believed
you’d die
if I leave.
Then when you left
I was close to death
I was suicidal.
You said I was in denial
you had a thought bridal
for a guy
you known for five
then cheated on for six.
I can’t believe in a person
who fights for love like this.
I have thoughts self righteous.
Even good flames will ignite us.
I could be an oasis
in this desert
of immoral places.
Or more like
a Greek gift
causing our rift.
But know
though I’m  a spawn
born from sin and evil
I never once
have been so deceitful.