your lips told
stories that your
eyes only hid

(b.d.s.)

He works so hard though the week.

How can I wake him from his sleep?

My body wants him. My tongue to.

My mind is racing on what we will do.
Should I wake him from his sleep? Gently kissing him, starting with his cheek.

I'm awake I always am, but should I wake this hard working man?

We had fun. We played today.

Touching each other in wonderfully messy ways.

He led me down. He ate out.
It was all that love and lust should be about.

Lips were licked and necks bit, bodies one, and finger fun.

Ankle gripping, legs were spread.
Then he bent me over the bed.

So fulfilling and ******.

Sweating, panting.
*** perfumed room.
Held hands, hair pulling and ******* to.

It couldn't be better don't get me wrong.
But all this writing and he won't be sleeping long.

I said if I woke him I would start with a gentle kiss on his cheek, but being reminded.... That would be weak.

When he wakes he better be prepared, because all this passion Must be fed.

So I'll wake him, and I'll wake his friend.....

I can't wait to start again.

With insomnia I've been cursed, but sometimes...... I know things could be worse.

Black Girl

Black is beautiful shouldn't be anything new to you I know TV's confusing you but you need to just think it through, lightskin dark skin every shade of sister in between you're all beautiful women playing for the same team. Your hair is perfect ***** natural and curly blonde hair and blue eyes don't make you anymore girly. Enough with TV's fraud me and my squad out here looking for our very own Felicia Rashad. Shout out to Disney for making a black princess who didn't rep our women at all. I'm just looking for Nefertiti an African Queen a woman who's skin is like coffee love like caffeine who's mind is sharp and focused on that green but does it all for the family her day one team dog that's my dream, a women who cooks like like my grand mama and hustles harder than than Mrs. Obama. Black butterfly your skies the limit lift your spirit against the malicious avaricious ignorance. The world is spiteful and stupid you're all beautiful that's can't be disputed, be proud of your eyes and hair be proud every morning you wake up and take a breath of fresh air be proud for every test you ace be proud of that beautiful skin stretched over that beautiful face.

Yo soy *****

**** immigration and the racist white tèjanõs, please tell me how the hell would they ever know what I know, shout out to my Mexicans Hondurans and black Cubanos shut the border down call it the no fly zone. Adios Americanos me and my amigos are stealing ya women and playin em like pianos, vocal terrorist this lyrical revolt should be your primary interest. Public enemy number one the domestic hectic terrorist I'm influencing your white son, right to bear these nuts I'm taking the tea parties guns stealing your freedom from right up under you, all your jobs, and way of life, your point of view. I'm the original black power ranger hide your right winged minds if not I swear they'll be in danger. I am the broken brick the stone left unturned the rhythm of the wind the willingness to learn and the desire to fight and get what you earn. I am the individual placed on the no fly list with my hand balled into a fist cause my turbin is too tight and my beards to thick. I am the man choked to death by nypd for selling cigarettes now I'm rioting with my words doing lyrical pirouettes.  Yo soy ***** spitting jive like lingo I want a Pam Grier keep your Marilyn Monroe, from the 6th borough buckin like bronco they said finish em I'm educated and black had to hit em with the combo.  I'm non fictions Huey Freeman battling congress and their demons catch me flexing on the law lookin like the black He-Man Standing up for what I believe in writing in my notepad I stay steady schemin with my head up in the clouds I stay steady dreamin. Yo soy ***** freeze em like sub zero not concerned with dolores or the dinero yen or bills yo, I'm still waiting for marvel to make a Mexican superhero.

i used to write poems about my love for you,
and now,
i write poems about the pain of losing you.
i used to be somewhat happy,
and now,
i cry myself to sleep every ******* night.
i used to spend every second of every day talking to you,
and now,
i spend every second of everyday hoping and wishing you will text me.
**you were the reason for my happiness,
and now,
you are the reason for my sadness.

I held you softly
as you slept
I held you gently
as you wept
I held you tightly
as you screamed
I stroked your hair
as you dreamed
I wiped the tears
that would not dry
I cried the tears
you would not cry
I took the demons
in your head
and made them
Mine instead
I need to be
by your side
don’t turn me away
I am not your Pride
I am not your Pity
I am not your Sorrow
I am here Today
I am your Tomorrow

If you could hug yourself,
would you do it?
For the pain you feel within,
is understood no better by others
than you.
Have you ever cried tears of blood
and felt that the heart is full of tears,
instead?
And you are still living,
questioning yourself,'is this existence or survival'?
Whatever it is, you don't care.
You see no difference.
You don't actually see at all.
You are blank.
Everything is black.
That black, which has every colour in it.
Will you be able to find a rainbow in it?
Will you be able to find a 'lost you'?
Will you recognize your own avatar?
Will you even try?
When you find 'yourself', what will you do?
Will you hug 'yourself'?

-@poetry_bhaskardhakal