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Vicki Acquah Sep 2015
Born Again Freak

Was a ******
long, long time
Waited until he
Pulled back that veil
He kissed me for the first
time.

Never wanted to be
Handled nor touched
Became weak, for the musk
of him.

Through him I
learned to trust
again.

I could tell by his smell
His chemistry intrigued
me.

loved to cuddle
Under him for the foreplay.
Never wanted to go all the
way.

I awakened to his flavor
I could savor in his touch

He brought out that
Streak in me, that freak in me
My natural ability
That only he could
induce.

He squeezed the juice
From my fruit.
No one else could do it.

In another place in time
Our signals were aligned
He then become aloof
to our truth.

Time passed I could inhale
No one else, they were never
Fresh, always stale.

I stayed in celibacy
Wrestled with that
Spirit in me. nearly
Twenty years without
Sharing sheets.

Re-******, for certain
Repulsed by mankind
Turned my head away
When people spoke to me
Repulsed by any
Air stirred by other
Other human beings.

He found me unchanged
Waiting to inhale,
His fragrant smell.

Settled in, he began
To make me laugh again
He sighted the truth in my eyes
I could not hide what was inside.

There was rumbling within
My eager- freak met
Him *** for tat.

He touched places
And I touched him back.
He erotically awakened,
All that was at stake.

Holding back nothing.
I am his escalated freak
Born again from
The abstinence, I withheld.
Born again from his
Intoxicating smell.

There was a streak in me.
And only he—could bring
Out that freak in me.
He is my spirituality
I love him religiously.
.... and I be born again.
And all is well.



@copyright pending
Vicki Acquah Sep 2015
Oh how I wish I cud speak of love like other poets.
But you have made love, such a way of killing loves joy.
I cut your picture into 1000 pieces.

While you visit your ex- who is now your extra..
Spend time putting yourself back together again.
This coulda been a love poem.

We could be practicing making babies and writing love poems
Instead, I was compelled to amuse myself in your callous absence.

By the time you come home - I will be gone,never to return.
I zoomed in and INCREASED THE SIZE.
I took the missing picture parts - Like the top of your head-
And your heart; Since you have no use for them.

Other more functional parts of the puzzle -
Have been mailed to  your ex-or your extra woman.
Hope she continues to make you happy..

Eventually I will mail her the rest of you.
In the meantime do not lose any more
"PIECES OF YOURSELF".
"Thank you god for second thoughts"

PUT YOURSELF together...and remember
I am cursing you, as to cure myself of you.
Voodoo is tied to that 1000 piece puzzle
You must gather your missing parts.
Stay with your EX...and never be vexed.

I have here with me, the other useless parts of you.
I've mailed them to your extra, along with permanent glue.
A love poem - and babies, would have suited me better.
Vicki Acquah Sep 2015
I brought you here - You brought her here
To our abode - So I've been told
I did not know.....
and in our room?
She wore my clothes...
I had no proof - The proof I find.
Sorry won't get it - Not this time.
Adrenaline Rushing.

You try and touch me - You think I am weak
Real loud I speak - "Don't touch me now"
I am so frustrated - You could have waited.

You pull my hair - I slap your face
Now we are fighting - So I start biting
The fight ain't fair - My neck your choking;
I knee'd your nose -
Adrenaline Rushing...
I start to smile -
When I do that....I am not joking.
Ahm dusting that *** -
Police are called - They pull me off
They said I won -

Three police knocked me down
and turn their backs -

I feel a whack - and now I snap
You hit my Jaw; With a walking cane.
Cane broke, on my face
Adrenaline pumping-
I get up....
Half a cane in your hand...
You throw it down.
And start running-
Full throttle.
I am right behind you with a
Heineken bottle.
I catch you in the cut
bout to finish, whoopin that ****.
You start to cry like a little cat
Making me, a female dog.
Adrenaline rushing..
But you ain't worth touching.
"Please" I say..."don't come back this way".
No make up *** for you today!
I am too weak... trying to forget
Things are bad- I call my dad.
"come n get this low level devil"
My spirit's vexed - For him there'll
be no make up ***....
......ever,ever again... !
Vicki Acquah Sep 2015
Excuse me while I Puke:

I hear screams of virgins watching
their innocence being tortured.
I see flowers hiding in the shadows
covering their eyes with shame.
I smell the putrid odors,
fuming from the stench
of bush meat eating scavengers.
Forcing intimacy on cherubs and angels.
I see abused women and children,
giving up and dying because
no one is looking for them.
I saw the First Lady of indifference
at the mall caressing a Gucci collar
for her little poodle dog.
I heard that birds still sing
and flowers still bud.
Right now I cannot enjoy
their contrite delight.
My eyes are filled with blood.
Is there anymore-
Bizarreness to be Ignored
AS I puke.
Vicki Acquah Sep 2015
Ever if
Disaster needed a
Safe path to commit
it's destruction
No one would be
Beyond reproach.
Be it wind,fire
Or Water.

© Vicki Acquah
Vicki Acquah Sep 2015
We wore these SADDLE OXFORDS until our feet grew long.
They'd be passed down..and they were exceptionally strong.

Never has another shoe ever lasted so long.
Cannot wait til "Easter" to get new ones black and shiny

With buttons or a buckle, or a cute little bow.
By xmas a nice pair of boots were good to go.

Durability and warmth were the style you would get.
Cry all you want - Santa was not kidding.

Said: " all you get are those boots,because all year you've been fibbing".
- That's the day I Kicked Santa to the curb.

Started selling"GREETING CARDS" I was not perturbed.
Bought my own shoes, never again to be disturbed.
Vicki Acquah Sep 2015
Because He Gets Me

I still love him in
spite of ,not
because of-- He is
the rare one, who
even though his
arrogance at times
over shadows his
maturity; He is
still the one who
gives believable
credibility to my
written soul - I
know he gets my
every word
intellectually and
spiritually.
His own wisdom which
mirrors my soul's
expressions,speaks.
I was so drawn to
his intellect and so
impressed by his
depth...that his
moments of
shallowness almost
tilted me over.
I still love him in
spite of his temper
tantrums, and his
reverting back to
his childish,selfish
jealousy; I love him
even when he tries
so hard to invent
ways not to love me.
All because he is
wanting to hold on
to me for hours..
when I only have
seconds to give. So
you see, I cannot
hate him for loving
me.

© Vicki Acquah. All
rights reserved
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