I move alone in the dark unseeing,
as I move toward the door, I remember,
there is only one direction
And that is back to the warmth of my bed
on this cold April day.....

69
ways to please your lover
He takes the nine,
and you take the six positons
Checkmating! or checkmate

The sound that broke the silence
around us..
and there we were making love
while I compose a poem of passion
using your strokes as my guide
capturing the moment of my creativity

I am consumed with guilt:
By not having an ******
Therefore as you know my poem is undone ...
I need that 70 ways to please my lover

Top to bottom
Left to right
No matter how you look ahead
It was a sad, sad day

Somewhere, there is a poem in our heads
About, Love, life, politics, natural disasters,
Religion and conflicts controversial issues

Suddenly, here come the uprising wars in politics
Isis and The Donald Trumps of the world crusaders

Here, we are as citizens, once again, starting to feel down,
Trying to find beauty in life, throughout the fixation,
A balance of who’s right and who's wrong,
These Obsessions with tic, TAC, toe politicians.
Somewhere, there is poem, a poem in waiting,
waiting, waiting, waiting, and waiting,

  Too many words, not enough ink for printing,
not enough folks who cares about such matters.

  The up and down to natural disaster due to the
the tricks of trade in the political world of politics
the missing e-mail, the hidden birth certificates
the beauty Queen who gain weight,
what about the real issues, what about economy
War and famine, child molestation, bigotry and fakery..

Suddenly, here come the uprising wars in politics
Isis and The Donald Trumps of the world crusaders
Here we are as citizens, once again, starting to feel down.

Only name the day, and I shall be there

This morning the notification woke me up

With still sleep in my eyes I reached for my phone

And the tone  

lingers from that Twi in my ear

Annei I love you though, despites his tears

To forget the world, and they negativities

Of a love such as ours, it clean, it’s pure

Love does not speak volumes(quote)

It speaks the honesty of another one confession,

Loving another person is hard work,

Only true love to me is a newborn baby love

for its mother, he trusts her immediately  



As we gaze into each other eyes,

We smile, we reminisce we both lied:

We try to outdo each other:

Was I king liar or was he king Lear?

Revealing too much, or revealing a little

Listen carefully, and responding with affection

Or simply use the body language

This fool will get back to you.

And old gal interpretation of fear not want not

We really don’t get each other:

My darkest fear is why did he walk

The dark street of Accura at 3.am?

That’s when my psychoanalysis study step in:

Where the boy seeks, love in an old familiar place

the street love of his childhood dream;

I asked of him not cut his hair

It makes him look like a youth,

Older men take advantage of desperate  

Looking youth, because of the boyish look,  

and that all it took:

Meat for the belly, and the belly for the meat(quote)

So, happily this morning I decline,  

You learn a lot about a man by his behavior when hungry. ~ Zambian Proverb

The Caribbean Sea is well-known for its high winds and rough water
which causes the flying fish to glide at ease in rough marine waters
and hurricanes to emerge to the surfaces.

It is the same rough sea that became the burial ground for the  hundreds of fishermen who lost their life at sea.
Life is too rough for these struggling workers.
the same sea that Laden was buried, because no country would accept his remain
so the big fish had their daily feast
It is the same rough sea stories, many of us have talked about
Like during the journey on the sea the disciples were distressed by wind and on a rough sea,
Yet there is no winter in Caribbean, neither in  many parts of Brazil
but we do have our share of problem with  Achatinas tropical land snails
the sea is now a story about the strong wind and heavy sea
But it never stops us from spending time at the beach.

Feeling extremely unloved and worthless
A teenager's life can be difficult, and clueless
Young and restless,
Tall, slender and harebrained
We struggled with untimely feelings
Our heart becomes our mind. And
our mind become weak by older men flattering words

It has been over thirty odd years, and yesterday
for the first time  I saw an image of the thief
I felt betrayed and disgusted by the looks of Mr. Thievery

My non forgiving heart kept saying forgive the old weasel
My evil twin whispered: spat on the memories of the womanizers
He died with the memories.  But not the lasting,
loving dreams of feeling and emotions

The earthly, scent of the marijuana breathes
Still lingered in my brain: Was I insane?
Haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and rough hands
Against my delicate smooth skin.  I spat on that
Our ****** relationship seem more like a crime to remember
Than any I have ever been in: I too spat on that
The years seems so long:

His ****** expression synchronizes with his life
Time clicked away last Thursday for Allie Moore.
R.I.P: brethren!

He did not know what it meant to love or feel love: Quote Michael

ACROSTIC POEM

F acebook is not the place for religious people
A ngelic fanatics, lashing on to the nonreligious folks words
C ritic dealers from across the globe: scandalous
E yeballing and ID’ in, every aspect of our lives
B roadcasting activities not fit or proper
O f men and women from the bones yard
O bjectionable political speeches of 2017 trends
K angaroos court for the Internet wireless hillbillies

It not easy going up against God’s Peoples
Date your wound
Picked your fights,

"Debates test the performative aspect of leadership: stamina, mental agility
as viewers we all know the mental agility of some of them:"

You can sway a thousand men by appealing to their prejudices quicker than you can convince one man by logic.”
― Robert A. Heinlein, Revolt in 2100/Methuselah's Children

Poets should get together and debates,
The inner thoughts of each other:
We are in the heat of this pandemic
The thought of not knowing,
Who family member would get that awful text
It’s not  so easy to go up against God’s people
Remember the world,
Picked your fights,

Something is going on in this world that isn’t rights
When the God given talent of man is used to destroy\
Others, it should be taken away.

If you use your time wisely, God will give you more time. If you use your energy wisely, God will give you more energy.** Quote:

A Glimmer of Hope:
This feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen to us
As most would analyzed this force of hope
A rose expressing hope, a yellow ribbon the symbol of solidarity:
of a love one,  a rainbow after a frightening rain storm
When, the fragments and flashes of thoughts life experiences badgers us:
we sometimes see a little glimmer of hope:
a force of evil and a force of good
just picked one and believe in it..
We as Poets try not to sound so biblical.

However, for our struggle is not against flesh and blood,
but against the rulers, against the authorities,
against the powers of this dark world and
against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Ephesian 6:12

Today, at this moment, my mind setting, my weekend
of mauby bark purging, I am  seeing and accepting
my glimmer of hope. For the past years, I went from
maybe, I see what we can do, maybe it was your fault,
you should go to church, you should leave things in God’s hands

If I hear anything I will let you know, I will talk to him,
I am seeing and accepting my glimmer of hope.
Never stop believing in yourself,

Reading a good poem silences you. ..it make you think.  It also prepares you for death. .

A good poem is a flash back  

To the ****** days we spend in bed

With that someone who knew what he was doing,

When we called out, they middle name,

“Oh God, oh ****, who would believe, you had

Christen him and name him on the same day.

They too in that moment had forgotten they true identity.



We never learn from our past,  

flashback, alerts us, and those who cannot remember the  

Past are condemned to repeat it.

A good poem, can only do one take

As someone, somewhere might yelled cut!

A good poem has taught us that

None of us is safe until all of us is safe  

For the next ten years, during this pandemic  

Take action, control those raging hormones,

And ugly man, might seem handsome,

But nothing to back it up with,

When, the blood rushes to one's brain:

Don’t be smitten by the lying tongue;

A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood,

A good poet is someone who manages, in a lifetime of standing out in thunderstorms, to be struck by lightening five or six times; a dozen or two dozen times and he is great.'  

Randall Jarrell

The sun rises in shades of yellow
I can only hear one word social distincing
One song
“God show mercy on our soul
See the lines forming, feeling the panic
a bad dream: a bad report,
a conversation that doesn’t goes well..
The night of the living dead:

It’s me and my desktop
It me and my android phone
It me and the world outside,
It’s me and my fears,
It’s me and my livelihood

Somewhere are the hidden bodies,
I’ve put my gloves and mask:
I am old, I am a senior citizen
I might be shelter in the place order:
But I haven't been tested…..

A fast growing crisis..  Fevers are rising
Can we really flatten this curve?
Let’s limit the spread.
Lets work together

I hope our prayers are answered
Feeling safe again, feeling healthy
A vision of hope, a vison for peace.

No leisure travel, just adhere to the warning:

I try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh so mellow*
I try to remember the kind of September
When I wore my navy blue skirt
with white bottom down top,
with glistening extension cornrows
so tight like dreadlocks.

I try to remember the kind of September
When I was young and carefree and no responsibilities
Now it’s September those after school activities.
Oh shiver me timbers to all the bus drivers
Welcome to another school year with tears

The young people have exalted notions, because they have not been humbled by life or learned its necessary limitations; moreover, their hopeful disposition makes them think themselves as equal to great things and that means having exalted notions.
They would always rather do noble deed than useful ones. Their lives are regulated more by moral feeling than by reasoning all their mistakes are in the direction of doing things excessively and vehemently. They overdo everything they love too much hate too much and the same with everything else. (Aristotle)**


The Hereford cattles talk quietly among themselves
The commute home on the B train was noisier than ever
The passenger beside them youth squirmed and frigid
Youth of today is selfish and only think of themselves
If you asked for a passed, they will give you a laugh
If the elderly asked for the seat, they will give it to
Their backpacks, and scream louder, old geeks

Discipline, like if it’s outdated: no structure
A lost generation without stability:
A dark history, I lay awake and wonder
How can we fix this? Problem, problem
And more problem heading their way

While in the field the Hereford cattle
talk quietly among themselves
Nursing their calf without being asked of their mothers
to cover up their babies faces:

A mango is not only a fruit it’s represent the tropic
An image of memories, it organic taste
This represents the first bite to the last:
Tracing back to its originality,
Tropical warmth, which smooths the lips
The sweet, succulent taste is noticeable:

Somehow, the roots refuse to grow
In Brooklyn, amount the sandy earth
Where the suffering continues,

A mango tree will never rooted in Brooklyn.
The soil is useless and barren,
Seized with an impotent anger
Where the death toll rises daily

A map of love:

I take metro link to work everyday
To witness the short journey of the white death
You could see it on their faces , the look of the dark
  mask of Magnanimity, the uneven tones,

The beeping sounds of the feeding tubes,
attachments so faulty, so unethical which
does more harm than good
Where doctors in Denim jeans and white labs coats, says
“There is nothing else we can do"

When I visualize for the joy:  its triggers happier moments
My family outings, the smiles, the laughter and the togetherness
And most of all my Vegas slots game machines
Whatever, it takes for me to make it through the days.
These memories I will always cherish them

I truly missed my younger days,
I want my daughters to experience the joy of life
Before settling for this kind of modern map of love,
at one point in your life you were the life of the party.
Death is the end of all men




,

I don't know If I’m Having a Feeling
I don't have any emotions anymore
Or I am dreaming, while I am awake?
Is my mind exploring my feelings?

While seeking happiness in this 18 degree weather?
Baking a melodrama cake,
Pounding away my headaches,
Clearing the path, making way for better
Eggs, butter, flour, sugar and raisins

Raising the bar, with the baking powder
Of transferring my feeling into logic,
As it blend into a smooth non stanza
Poetic form of puppy love, clinching

and all that rises, rise in due degree
And is in everything we see and do.

New Clothes, New Beginnings
In my mother’s house nothing went to waste
Our old uniforms were turned inside out and color dye
and here I am talking about back to school shopping already.

With my daughter it’s all brand new supplies and clothing.
And here I am mapping out emotions in the midst of everything
  I remember my gathered leg puffy *******, which matched my uniform.
those puffed legs ******* prevented me from playing a game of double Dutch,
Hopscotch and climbing the monkey bars, as you know the saying goes

The higher the monkey climbs the more him expose. But not in my case
the more I climb those bars, the more I was exposing my ***
or worse totally humiliated, by the hem of my garments
and once again this time it wasn’t for healing, but for the teasing

Used tea- bags drying out on the windowsill, ready to be used a second time.
My mother would say, about ten more uses still left within these bags.
New soles on my younger brother hand- me- down shoes with new shoe laces
This caused him to have eight hundred dollars’ worth of braces
No New clothes, no new beginning but a visit to the orthodontist
In my mother house nothing went to waste.

The ugly poetess
Over the housetops,
Above the dry blades of the sugar cane husks
I have known fear, I have known hunger
I felt the pain of a nail wound deep in my foot
I belted out the blues like Nina Simone
An era of reform: the moments of truth,

On top of the hill, lies a village in Barbados
Acid rain, rooftop leaks on to my bed
It was a rough year:
only food sources were rice and breadfruits
We lived through it all:

It was my destiny:
To love and to hate them:
those old fruit loops

Through the eyes of a uprising poet
The curving of his pen,
Somehow, he made amends, he purge
the smoky air,
the disgusting sight of the pig pens
out of his mind

lack of personal dental hygiene,
the elders lost their teeth
Grinding down on sugarcane, while they
awaits the big meal of the day
Supper!

With innocent eyes and achy feet
I read so many books for inner peace

My stomach was empty,
but my mind was at ease
To dream big while aiming high

Marlene, Delores, and Linda
Known as the vanishing three
Migrated to North America
Where a Barefooted child
like me wasn’t supposed to be
Eventually, I know I would have followed

I have woven my feathers,
while looking upwards,
In my little corner under the old rusty galvanizes
.
At the old country shop the vanishing three mothers
told me that I wasn’t pretty enough to leave the island
Words of hatred, mere words of discomfort
I felt my wings tighten against my rib cage,
My tongue, glued against my jaws

From that day forward the poet smile against stupidity
And spitefulness, she too had come to
Eat her words, the old shopkeeper

The poetess enter another line from that era
Uncaring beauty without brains
Where are they now?

I walked with confident down that street
The misty air moist my skin
The poetess return to the Island of Barbados
Without the sugar in her blood..
.

I want to write a poem that politically minded would read more:
My political allegiance: my contribution to the art:
those Snakes in the grass would adhere too: without obligation;

The hidden agenda of the world leaders
Would suddenly, take the Sephora masks off
just in time to reveal what we thought of them all along;
Those voices of the babbling brooks: some louder than the other:

the poem must expose secret of the ocean mystery /myth
Without apprehending the beauty
of the dolphins and the whales legal rights;
While its uninvited guests are caught up in their lies
we the people must say to them
"you all can’t plead the fifth" because


They are still a lot of trivia question for us to answer.
And it’s still difficult task for some of us to find
where's waldo amongst the leaders:

Tonight I’m to lie here and think of you
In slow motion: I am going to let the memories
Warm me up from the inside,
While the wind whistle his favorite tune
From the nearby window on Lead Vale Road
I will stay in touch with my best friend King

The one who brought me my first
Right on Magazine: the most memorable one with
Michael Jackson embraces the front covers:

That was in 1978, when poets wrote meaningful pieces,
With meaning, that touches the process of thinking
To boost our poetic frame of mind: this in turns dealt
With some of our internal or external reality in events
that happens in that era
Like his father Leaving, by Ira Sadoff back in 1945
A wonderful piece of write to be remembered

Tonight I’m to lie here and turn off my ****** thoughts
In slow motion: I am going to let the memories
Of us warm me up from the inside,
I remember those raining days which kept us indoors
Where a week of rain, felt like a death sentence
No hands holding or walking in Queen Park with King
No late night window shopping,
only lips singing from afar
Behind our share bedroom doors:

It was only yesterday, walking in the rain
And seeing so much broken umbrellas litter the street in the city
And my thoughts turn to him, with our broken umbrellas,
we retrieved them and sew them back together
Tomorrow I will pray with King
that an injustice will become forgivable

P.S:
**It would be easy to become a victim of our circumstances and continue feeling sad, scared or angry; or instead, we could choose to deal with injustice humanely and break the chains of negative thoughts and energies, and not let ourselves sink into it.”
― Erin Gruwell, The Freedom Writers Diary

God gave them over to degrading passions; for their women
exchanged for the natural function for that which is unnatural, and
in the same way also the men abandoned the natural function
of the woman and burned in their desire toward one another
men with  men committing indecent acts and receiving in their own
persons the due penalty of their  error. (Roman 1:26  


Our summer evening settle down
many of us logged on to the internet
Critiquers or terrifying ticking time bombs
They surf and browses around.

Clicking sounds;  fingers moving slowly
Anything is possible in today's world
Overly educated fools smudges the earth
Men with men; women with women
it's  sad world  for most of us
so we chat with total strangers

Controlled by gentle touch
Alone in the comfort of our homes
So many old and lonely cantankerous poets
Or mental deranged strangers connects

such old souls stretches across the globe
to be disrespectful toward each other
is this the new  circle of social creatures?
could it be they emotion, compassion
or simply a humanity deal?

They are living secret lifes, with make believe wives
The miraculous things we say to each other
Gutless lonely souls, nervous in plain view
can never function in the real world
A Fish Tank without  water


Do we really know them?
I know them but only on the internet(:)

You came too soon
and the moon wasn't even close to being full.
All I heard was the sound of your zipper
Gliding down
What a loser!

I heard a moan and groan
and it was all over.
Practice makes perfect babes
Just remember
a full body warm up
will achieve a  peak performance

We both were on our sides,
  I threw the top of my leg over his hip.
suddenly, poetry comes alive
what an amazing stand-up routine:

*** , love and poetry are powerful things.
due to the love of the art,
Some adjectives do come after the verbs.
sigh!

I envision light coming into my body
Making me hotter, and wetter than every before
each time we make love:  I can see you
Somehow, I can’t feel you.
Who know one size does not fit all.

I want to write a poem as long as California*

Nope, I want to write a poem as short as his *****
As short as a stump: When we think of bravery
Right away we think of the soldier, the hero:

When we think of his behavior its reflects on
His upbringing that influenced his character
The mouth that eats salt and pepper
Would thirst for water: it craves the attention

When I think of eating  some fishcakes,
I immediately think of the bones
That sensation of something stuck in my throat, then sudden death
They is an action, and a reaction
I want to write a poem that is going to outlive the pecker
But as trended as hate crimes…………

When a poem speak in confidence
That is how I am as I walk the street of Brooklyn

me, a poem of mystery, a bite senility though
in my sensate world:

I know ones pride, can over shadow them
Never ride ones pride.  Especially when the
price of victory is high but so are the rewards.

Did our former leader congratulate the new President?

Maybe I missed his speech,
pride is born in the heart
Ego is born in the mind
today is November 10th 2020:

My job can be so frustrating at times,
during these times of uncertainty

I have to push on daily,
to have a joyful moment,
at the work place
Give thank in all circumstances,
but I will never uttered those words
That is was God work:
it was because of my inner fears.
That led me to stay as long
as I did at the seafront:

The world feels lighter these days,
Satan power is lessening,
Death has lost its sting ( 1 Corinthians 15:55

For the first time in this country
A black female is the vice president of America
And what bring a smile on my face,
She attend the same college as my younger daughter
Howard University.. Thumps up !

When I was a teenager,
I went swimming late one night
In the cold water down the harbor Road,
A poem was created that night, little did I knew
Here I am rehashing those memories…..
A happy mood clouds our judgement
Words, words, images and the truth
Michael might not remember, but I remember,

The city lights and the whispering of the wind:
My shivering slender body was a poem inside and out:
When my poems speak in confidence,  I walk, the walk
In the street of Brooklyn..

A Poet
The modern Poetess writes not because she wants to form words on a page, but because she loves the rhyming and verses that flows around in her head, getting the issue resolved for the next poetic generation to come:

I looked in the mirror and saw my mother face, I remember her stories, her poems, that was so long ago, my mother kind of loyalty was only for her ancestral spirits, I am so tired of trying, so tired of the rules, the injustice that I face daily in the work-place:  my job titles has become the one size fits all division, no organization, no time frame, knowingly there’s no such thing as a one-size-fits-all approach.  Everybody wants to be the boss; a role that isn’t right for everyone, it’s a huge responsible especially if they can’t lead the team to victory: child play on display, I referred to the situation, one big obstinate headache, day after day after day. If I could overlook the injustice, and freeze my thoughts; if I could only,
If I could only fly

When I see you after a long day
Seeing, you don’t make things any better

a cup of peppermint tea a dash of milk
some lines of poetry in my head,
a sudden loud burp, and a grasp

But in my silent voice, I need not
say what is on my mind:
my mood swings , my physical arousal
I need to come to grips, with the real me

I really do not love you: I might like you,
but I am not In love with you…
I am the rose that open in the early morning,
but by sunset I close my petal from the world,

When I see you after a long day,
Seeing you doesn’t make things any better
I just want to say a quick hello,
And a long goodbye..

People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave. A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master…”  ―Elizabeth Gilbert

A rose
He seldom bring me flowers
But once a year a dozen red roses
For each month he misses
~
He never smiles,
unless it was a touch down
I always made him a cup of herbal tea
whenever, he was in town

However, I always smile without a reason
I asked him one or two lumps
I really miss the old chum
He doesn’t bring me flowers anymore

As ***** as a three balled tomcat
Very *****
Very full of ****** desire
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


You can fake that loud sound during ***
However, no need to fake that sound
With your first meal of the day
Oh so yummy! Oh, so hungry for that touch
So here I am as ***** as a three balled tomcat

What if everything were revealed about my whereabouts
Especially last night, was I somnambulism?
It’s time to get myself together. I was all over the place
I have to channel my energy today into something useful;
I have to stay soulful, I have to stay focused
I might be a night walker

However, If a man awakes the sleeping tigress within
He better be ready to calm its wicked, wicked ways
A woman isn’t complete without the
Amen, hallelujah, thank be to glory moments
As she reaches the maximum of her
Amazing, mind and body-blowing experience
I have to challenge them… did I lose my self-respect?

My midnight blue satin dress
Someone said that it’s a wicked, wicked tease
I know that it controls my every mood
Staying ahead of the curves, surveying the scenery
Swaying down the Avenue living dangerously
Down where the palm trees sway against the breeze
Here I am as ***** as a three balled tomcat.
but I can surely make the bad boys good for the weekend