Whats it to you?

The love that you show me.
Amazing.
The things you teach me.
How forgiving, and relentlessly caring.
How easily you are able to be
So gentle
So warm
So expressive
Its...in the love that you show me.
Amazing.

The world we live in.
Amazing.
365 days of finger pointing.
Yet patiently, we say, awaiting judgement day.
How can that truly be?
Confusing.
Cold
Beyond me.
Its...the world we live in.
Amazing.

The things I wonder about.
Amazing,
How love can be hated so deeply
As poverty abounds, fiercely digging early graves
Weakened fingers and all
Here we are, hating on love
Silly
Isnt it?

...to exhale.

If I hold on
And heave
and a ho
And push
and a shove

Just for four more months.

I just might soon realize
That four months, is only but a short time to breath.

testing

testing testing

This Introspective Language.

Quieter than a whisper
Far more solemn than a ballad
These interactions within myself
Quietly so, solemn so.
I was once asked
What language we speak
Both me and I, when we converse and…
I cant truly say I know
Because I don’t see myself uttering words
Telepathically, you may say,
I just say a hello
And I know, without a doubt, that myself too, is responding…

“hey ma’am, how you been since the last time we ‘seen?”

*Impending discussion*

One can only hope
That the tongue remains
The heart’s messenger
And that it relates
Verbatim
The queen’s words.

Time will tell then,
What will be said
What is felt
In the heart
Where I wish to be
My world.

Death to the Follicles!

If every woman decided not to shave her pubes
Would every heterosexual male get disgusted?
Would he get to chasing her around, with a razor, yelling
“death to thy follicles”?
Would he
In an attempt to please himself
In an attempt to have a muse, a rhythmic being to stroke himself to,
Shave HIS pubes, turn autosexual, and love himself down?
Would he?
Scrub get tubes of Nairs and layer his legs
Protest!
Scream on top of his lungs, for fairness?!
Would he, though?
I wonder…
Only God knows for sure,
But something tells me, he’d be hysterical, Act out,
Pull the disgusting card
And eventually, in the thick of the night
When he’s ready to calm the fuck down
When his dick gets restless, rigid, and warm
He’d come banging on her hairy pube’s door.
8:43pm September 28 2011

Writer's block :(

I need a muse.

Summer 2011: The summer of `~*jewels*~`

I raided Afrofest stalls and a new retro jewels store I just stumbled on.

...Pic's 'a comin ;)

Give it here.

"Am sorry. Forgive me"
"What for?"
*long pause*
"Nevermind"


Something about apologies, makes my love come down.

Give it back.
Come again.
Give it back.

Or I just might have to make you sorry, and have to apologize all over again.

Something about apologies makes me want to go to bed.

Give it here.
Make it last.
Say it now.

Or I just might do something crazy, and make you beg me for my mercy.

30/06/2011

ThE inDePENdent WomAN

Independence.

The independent woman.

She pays her bills. All by herself.
Speaks her mind, as she pleases.

She gets going when the going gets tough.

She just always knows how to put it together.

Every man, wants her.
You'll probably find her in a music video, looking fly as ever, making you wish your woman was her... making your lady feel as though she now has an idol...someone to aspire to be.

Independent woman. She'll be there to make your meals, fix the kids up, AND be ready to make the bangest love at sundown, sun-up, and possibly anytime in between.

She'll be flexible enough for all the positions, and to her, you'll be the world.

If ever or when you get down, she'll be your sheet of bounty; your quicker picker upper, cleaning the mess that you happened to be, wiping your tears away, and best yet, not ever, spilling the beans on just how much of a cry baby you can be sometimes.
Hey, she is independent, right? So no need to tell friends about all the little things that goes on between you two.