The truth about this ****** thing
it creates more headaches than
Satisfaction
our thirst is getting more and more difficult to quench

~~~
so you lay there feeling empty
while his head sunk deep into your pillow
he slept,
you pondered

your thoughts turn to
a time  when it was you
and the pink *******....

Pillow talk
If only he knew how I felt. As his cold feet
Touching my warm legs
Those hideous moan:  of the Congo man syndrome
****** dissatisfaction
Yabadabadooed

Have you ever watch someone peeling a banana?
As they carefully remove the peel
Watch how the fruit emerge to the opening
That’s the same perception of the Gays and Lesbians on the street

Outside most doors is a heavy stone
Making it impossible to get out
So most of us take the easy way out
We climb down the ladders and onto the pavement
And said oh well,” I have solve that problem for today”
So what about tomorrow, and the day after
Do you have to go through that again?

Being nice to people is expected of us,
For us to survive in a world of delusion and confusion

Poetry to me have been my way of expressing my thoughts
However, I know of other ways to express them too
But why argue!

When I looked in the mirror I see a brave woman
I walked the street amongst the people
I see, a generation of confuse individuals,
who had to climb down those ladders
I saw children holding the hand of they guardians,
as the little Tots gazes
Into the eyes of the bystanders,
while the whispers became louder
“What is going to happen to those?
“Poor innocent child
I seldom smile, at the comments  because
Pink is also a beautiful color.

Poets, songwriters, and composers
Were absolutely correct when they say
Love is blind and justice is impaired
Is the dead better off than the living?
~
I slowly open the door to the room nineteen
Somehow, the door made a shrieking sound
They all turn and looked at me in slow motion
I saw the hatred that was in their eyes:
it felt like being bitten by poisonous flies
Clones and comics together in one room:
On the hottest day of June
~
You Aint Seen Nothing Yet
in comparisons to a Amarillo
Or daffodils desperately trying to emerge in coldest day of March
So, I said hello my fellow poets,
~
When are we going to stop laying wreaths?
at the tomb of the unknown?
When are mothers and fathers going to say?
“No to their sons and daughters behaviors
There is a war, going on right here amongst us
Stop the hate, stop the bigotry
Plant a tree in the name of love.

My midnight blue satin dress
Someone said that it’s wicked, wicked tease
However, I know better:
it controls my every mood
Staying ahead as my curves survey the scenery
  I swayed down the avenues

Who’s going be the lucky fellow?
To auction it off my back
Who’s the one that
  see 3-D images with only one eye?
but to see what lies beneath this midnight blue
is sating memories

I felt the earth move under my feet
Pleats and creases;
hisses and random kisses
Tonight I am your mistress
and most of all
the goddess in the mist

Airbrush my body with admiration.
but never again say you love me
What is love?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He had left for work that morning: like any other morning
I was off from work that day: somehow that day felt different
The baby was in daycare,
Something kept nagging at my subconscious
But deep down it was there
Nagging away
I felt like crying, yet I wasn’t sad.
I collected my school books and I put them away in my backpack
Sometimes when we take a warm shower
Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart.
I knew about the other woman: but didn’t want to believe
How many times could a person repeat the same lie over and over
he said that he was out late playing  a games of dominoes with the guys
I guess after that long shower that afternoon
my alters must have taken over: it was getting close to the hour
For me to leave for my evening classes
I did what had to be done. I called him and asked
What time he plan on picking up the baby from daycare
I put away my keys and I put my backpack out of sight
And made my way into the large closet and waited
For the suspect to come home
I became an intruder:  in my own home
I remember the clicking of keys as he opened the door
My heart was pounding fast:  however my mind was sharper than ever
His daily routine, he opened the icebox and took out a snack
before coming into the bedroom and turning on the television
he sat down on his favorite chair,
then he made the phone called
That call was the beginning of everything
Lawyers, Judges, family court
And most of all the ending of my happiness,
Words I that I wish I had never have heard from those
Lying lips
The silence in the closet: my pounding heart
I heard him said to her
“Hello honey how was your day”?
With that sweet tenderness in his voice
My heart drop to floor as I ease drop on the conversation
I remember coming out of that closet like a crazy woman
and knock the ******* out with the night light
There’s so many way to catch a cheater.
  I boldly caught one.
My foible kicks in:
because no sin like this is never ever forgiven

I woke up to another month,
In another year,
and nothing seem to change
the wintry cold, the eastern wind
the older it gets

nothing seem to change,
but this confounded weather
Goodbye January
Please enter Ms. February
Please show us some love and harmony.

Let the beauty that we love be what we do.
— Jalal ad-Din Rumi

I was never blessed by God,

I am the main sources of evil
I was created by man
I am known to have the lever that moves the world

So I was told
With my power I can help with the bailiff
Or
And I can make you jump of the cliff

Some folks never seem satisfy with me
When in abundant

I am known to misled
The
Wise, the meek
I never bring happiness

My association with ant-nose
As
The new evolution
Grain and brain

Who am I?