I almost wrote you a love poem
...but I don't love you.
Your crayola stained lies turned my blue skies to gray
so how could I be happy when there's no sunshine today?
No sunshine today turned to no sunshine to this date
so to this day I'm embodied in the darkness that you made.
I almost wrote you a love poem
but instead I wrote a riddle.
I repose homely in dark spaces
because I've adapted to the dark.
I'm engulfed in darkness
But I'm that gleaming light from afar.
Answer is,
I'm a Star.
Consensus:
Your devious dark deeds attempted to deviate
my direction and detach me from the light leaving me in darkness
but I empowered myself,
debunking your detrimental ways
and becoming the light you tried so hard to take from me.
I almost wrote you a love poem
and if I did,
it'd say I love you.
...but this isn't a love poem!
and the only I love yous I recall,
are the lies you told me
and the truths you told him.
I almost wrote you a love poem,
...and if I did,
If I did write you a love poem..
I bet I'd have nailed it!
...but you ******* it all up
and now,
who's really the fool?
I almost wrote you a love poem,
and if I did,
it would have went a little something like
...idk
because loving you is something I never want to do.
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 10:34 AM UTC
Let's engender a love like an elastic.
Let's create a love where when we're plagued and bombarded with complications,
we still spontaneously recommence our conventional shape,
like an elastic.
Let's create a durable love;
a love where lies and opinions shock us as a whole
but our love is an insulator,
so we remain unaffected
by the lies that lie in the lightning.
Let's create a love where Cupid's arrows no longer have an effect on us because just how in love can two people possibly be?
Let's create a love where roses are over-rated
and who really cares about a violet's true nature when we all know violets are violet and not blue?
I want that elastic love,
whereas we're oblivious to our boundaries and we're too paranoid to test them out because we just may pop.
I want that colorful elastic love;
not that basic black love...
Although I do like the idea of that black never cracks kinda love.
I want that John Legend give me all of you love,
that you still want my kisses even though I got the flu kinda love.
I want that stick together like glue kinda love,
that walk into a crowded room and all I see is you kinda love.
I want that dream about me and you wake up wet kinda love,
that pet your kitty *** I'm your vet kinda love.
I want that chocolate love...
mixed with some of that mathematical love...
that 1+1= me and you kinda love,
that your skin + my skin= melted chocolate kinda love,
that whisper in your ear and you snicker kinda love,
that make your body parts quiver and purr like a kit-kat kinda love;
...not that slim shady kinda love
but that sweet tooth M&M; kinda love.
I want love and I want you...
I want the tough polymeric substances connecting out hearts to communicate.
Vibe with a ***** one time.
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 6:26 PM UTC
Black girl roots.
Black girl magic, stemming from their black girl roots.
From their magical skin, full lips and hips, beautiful roots of their hair
Is the genetic anatomy of a black female that incomprehensible?
Full lips on display lined with collagen filled comments,
the peanut gallery of social media filled with distasteful outrage by the same things they inject to achieve yet,
riots on social media streets over the distasteful cultural misappropriation of all that is black yet,
It's distasteful to live somewhere, to live here, beautiful islands bathed in sun and filled with black people that aren't even conscious of their background...that aren't conscious of their 'blackness'.
To be so ashamed of their blackness. Their very roots.
Ashamed of their roots. What a time to be ignorant Trevor.
Black History Month is now, yet there’s a rampage to eradicate the very aesthetics of blackness rather than appreciate them.
Dear colonialized principal of C.R. Walker High School, quit.
Dr. Claudius Roland Walker, the school’s namesake, built a hotel for blacks who were being discriminated against and
I imagine he would build a coffin for your revulsion of all things black,
We’ve moved past your self-hate and the disdain you have for your very roots.
Black hair is beautiful and can never be unkempt. Let me say that again.
Black hair is beautiful and can never be unkempt.
Black hair is a statement that you and nobody that inhabits
this dying planet has the authority to deem untidy or inappropriate.
It took our ancestors far too long to comb through fields of complications
the root being wearing their natural hair and through natural hair movements
to have some nescient minded leader deem it disheveled.
Our roots have permitted our black skin magic, we absorb the rays of the sun,
magicians, and for my final trick, watch my skin glow like gold
dripping like wet paint onto a canvas of unfinished art
left behind by our old souls.
Oh my black people,
a juxtaposition of media sensationalism led by governmental lies, descendents of slave owners insisting that our black hair is something to be ashamed of,
it seems we have our heads so far up our own *****
we're getting too used to the essence of sh-t.
Then the chant goes up, the battle cry,
"This isn't the United States, there's no misogyny, there's no racism, there's no-"
Shut-up.
"Are you angry?"
No, I'm black and I'm angry!
Our mindsets rooted in the prevalence of self hatred, leaves of mighty oaks desperate to remove themselves from their very roots,
requesting emancipation from the very ones that have us enslaved,
begging to be cut loose from the European hand
consciously and subconsciously unshackling the left as we tie the right.
but where are you going?
When has a plant ever survived without its roots?
How dare we neglect the nutrients our ancestors left behind and chase the suicidal pesticide made to eradicate our total being?
Dear god if you're listening, as the cry of former sages went up I also cry,
emancipate yourselves from mental slavery and take me back to my golden home,
where I belong.
Take me back to the very roots I am taught to be ashamed of,
so that I may feel the energy of what once was.
Take me back so that I may cultivate my roots. Take me back so that I may live to tell the truth.
Just take me back.
My people deserve the truth as I find them in the lie,
smearing the proverbial “creamy crack” on hair and skin,
My people deserve more than a painted picture of Cesare Borgia Son Of Alexander Pope 6 as Jesus.
My people deserve to know that Jesus was black and that the Catholics were snakes in the grass abusing their power during their time of reign. Uh oh, the snaps got quiet.
Oh but my people deserve to know that perceived infallible Bible they see today has been edited and destroyed to hide the secrets. Why?
When mama and grammy worship pictures of “Jesus”, why wouldn’t white be right?
Jesus in the pictures mama, he’s a white man, he has straight hair, he’s the savior,
aren’t we supposed to be just like him?
but
Little black girl with your, black girl magic and your,
magical skin, full lips and hips, beautiful roots of your hair
your crown, your skin, is beautiful. Your roots are strong.
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 12:57 PM UTC
...unless it's with me.
Dating you is anti-climatic
and I'd be ****** if I ever
succumb to a part of me
begging to be cut loose from you.
I don't want to be swallowed by
the euphoria derived from
vintage pictures and videos;
I know that the saccharine
comfort will be both
short-lived and lachrymose.
I don't want to have to
flip through your new pictures daily,
searching for remnants of the love we shared
through the new love you'd then be experiencing.
Usually,
I'd wish nothing but the best
but I want the worse for you.
My mental is too detrimental
to handle you and another.
I don't want to wake up
from constant nightmares
leaving my stomach tied in knots
you'd only see on TV.
I don't want to sit at family dinners alone
when you were suppose to be there with me.
I don't want to have to look at chocolate desserts
and remember how it's your favorite
so although I detest chocolate,
I eat it anyway to somehow
suppress the feeling of you not being there.
I don't want to watch you fall in love with another.
You carry a part of me
every time you're apart from me
and I'd rather you cheat
than to follow what seems like tradition
and leave.
I don't want to watch you fall in love with another.
I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve
and I'm down on both knees
pleading please,
oh please
I don't want to watch you fall in love
...unless it's with me.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
If I had to describe myself,
I would say...
I'm not just the 50+ scars
from blood-stained razors
on my left arm;
I'm not just the countless tears
I cried when I pleaded
with your deity;
I am ";"
";" is never-ending.
I am ;
because my story doesn't end here.
I am ;
because I am forever evolving.
...so until
"."
arrives,
I am ;
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 1:50 PM UTC
For days I've been unable to write poetry and someone told me I should just write something...
This is me writing 'something'.
I hate writing about this situation but I'm purging.
Lol, all I wanted was mutuality but even in the brightest of times, it was mission impossible. Seems a bit foolish of me to have invested basically my all into someone so ...transparent. The lies and deception dripping like wet paint off of her giving the reflection of a colored person was visible to everyone but me ...to me she was still transparent. From the start, I made a promise to myself never to succumb to any negative forces interfering with what was supposed to be a 'Nirvana'. I still remember the tedious efforts of sneaking to her window. I still remember everything we did and her lips still feel close to mine ...for now. My retrogression occurs once again. Tomorrow, her name will no longer be locked onto my tongue, no longer stitched onto my heart. Instead, her name will do nothing but damage what was once whole but it's fine because tomorrow there'll be another. Tomorrow your name will be 'sucked from my lips ensuring it never comes back up'. Tomorrow, what was once so sacred between us won't be so sacred. Tomorrow it begins; tomorrow I regress.
You see, I'm no dummy. Somewhere between the lines of
loving me too little
and
not loving me at all,
you found a bucket of lies with my name on it and you fed em to me until even you succumbed to the deception. Luckily, you caught yourself so can I really blame you for what you did?
You say I play the 'victim'? I am a 'victim'.
a victim of being cheated on, lied to, played and rode like the donkey jesus sat on lol ...just a little humor to ease the level of despondency.
im a victim of tragedy.
Do you even know how it feels to be so happily in love with someone? so confident that someone is yours just yours and then watch that person willingly get swept off their feet and out of your life? never have i ever felt so confident that someone was mine and all mine, someone i could love and trust...
You won't ever understand how I felt that night.
...sitting there with the biggest smile on my face and the warmest heart ...then your neck.
I didn't just see a 'purple bloom' my dearest love. I saw my life flash before my eyes, I knew you were no longer mine for on your neck you were branded and you walked proudly with it. With your branded neck you stood there proudly and confident in yourself. **** i hate you. you stood there smiling a smile that was no longer just for me. You stood there and kissed my cheek...if only I had known the devaluation of that kiss. You held my hands but if only I knew that those hands were not too long ago wrapped around and lustfully attached to another.
Although my way of getting over you isn't right, I'm **** sure it'll work. You want me to share you. That's what you want and I should've expected it from the 'first occurrence'. You want to be in the middle and who am I to judge? I'm just stuck, maybe? I'm no fool. I've done my wrongs and I've kept my secrets from you but in no way have I came remotely close to doing this to you. I stood by you through every hurricane, sheltering you. How is it that it's so easy for you to be apart from me? All I wanted was to be secure but you're so immature and can't even secure yourself, check your wrists.
I sincerely wish you the best. Disregarding all my bitter thoughts, I do hope you're happy.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 8:36 AM UTC
scars of a past I wanted nothing to do with
led me to handcuff myself
to a lampole for security.
I had reached my consensus.
I threw the keys to these cuffs
in mental portals where I thought
no one would dare to ever travel.
Many tried searching
but I intentionally
obstructed access
with deceptive rants of fear and caution.
By then
I was sure
that I had thoroughly built walls of security;
I was safe
...but who would've thought
my aesthetically intellectual design
had a weakness?
The enemy came just as they all did,
hoping to be let in...
but this one reacted differently when the ranting came;
I was now at a disadvantage
because I had no other alternatives for defense.
The enemy showed no care for my security;
It was attractive
And I succumbed while
Never forgetting my plan
Although it seemed my design was nugatory.
My mental lampole and cuffs,
gone.
I was left subjugated
at the feet of a queen
who carried an aura
with the most beautiful spectrum.
Like a bull snake,
promises of security
grappled my core,
draining it of all fear
leaving behind no traces
of deception.
Although defeated,
she still remains my enemy
because serendipity
never seems to stick around.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 11:33 PM UTC
embedded in the most tenebrous corner of my mind,
harlequin memories of serendipity,
dripping like bittersweet wine,
tantalize me,
begriming what was once an unsoiled canvas.
engulfed in my despondency,
I repose homely
until my mind's taste-buds
savor the saccharine flavors
of its own derisive thoughts.
aroused to say the least,
my mind's libido is now being satisfied.
I lie here,
welcoming all that my thoughts and epiphanies have to offer.
I am unable to disclose what's bestowed to me
but that's irrelevant.
My mind is here...
and open
and anticipating
the pleasing rush
of these thoughts that venture through my head.
The pleasure is overwhelming,
forcing my chakras open
as my ajna awakens from its long slumber.
I crave this foreplay
and I plead with the universe
to make it never-ending
but it seems my cries fall upon deaf ears
and I'm left open-minded
and unfinished.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
a relationship is for two but when another gets involved,
that's not what causes the impairment and pain.
what hurts is knowing you weren't enough to sustain.
what hurts is seeing them smile even in the face of their ***** deeds.
what hurts is realizing how naive you were,
succumbing to tears conveying false remorse.
what hurts is not knowing whether or not it was even real.
what hurts is realizing that what you cherished and loved is no longer yours
...for their lips,
are now stained with sins
and their heart,
now unsecured and ready for another.
what doesn't hurt,
is knowing that even though
not with you,
they've found happiness.
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
For 18 years of my life,
I've never dedicated Valentine's Day
to the true love(s) of my life.
I've wasted years
attempting to make artificial temporary women
special
...only to be left stranded weeks later.
This new epiphany
forces me to dedicate today to the women
who've stuck by my side for all my life,
not once wanting or attempting to detach themselves.
To my Mom,
you gave me life
and you continue giving me life.
You're far from openly emotional
but there has been a myriad of times
where I've derived some sort of buoyancy
within you,
forcing your heart to double its beats.
There have been times where
...I've witnessed you at your worst,
tears streaming down your face
as you comfort me when it's you who truly needed the comfort.
You're a strong beautiful woman
and you are my Valentine,
I love you and wouldn't trade you for anything.
To my Aunt,
sometimes I fail to see how you're human.
You're more like a radiant sun that never sets.
If I need someone for absolutely anything,
I know it's you to run to first.
You go out of your way to ensure
my success and positive energies remain at their pique.
There isn't a thing you don't know about me
but no matter how extreme,
the love you emit towards and for me never seems to change.
Our relationship goes beyond,
aunt and nephew.
We're more like best-friends
and you are my Valentine.
I love you and wouldn't trade you for anything.
I've been through so many futile relationships
and these two are my only lasting ones,
seemingly sempiternal.
No matter how many women enter my life,
my aunt and mom will remain the top women in my life.
Happy Valentines Day.
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 9:48 AM UTC