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Ayeshah Feb 2010
I'm the Afrocentric Gift
you been waiting and dying to open ..,
Christmas came Early just for you this year,
I'm the Thoughts in ya head,
Mind blowing the
Essences of Sexuality,
Wisdom,
Knowledge
and a
multitude of Feminine Power,
Prowling and
Roaring for your affection,
I'm every Women,
Just not to night
I don't want to share,
Be my one & only..,
I am the
Architects building
the bridges back to ya heart,
My Prominent Black African King,
Mr.**** as ya wanna be..,
I Dreamed of this many times at night & also for some weeks,
Thoughts of you Thought of us become " We"
Teaming up and Doing
What lovers do,
But
I want more,
I want your heart too,
I see it in you,
the artist ;Your words caressing me,
Like painting and drawing,I'm just one of your sculptures..,
But
I'm the centerpiece of this mental non-nocturnal dream,
Your the
Author writing a great masterpiece only I'm the Main character...,
Chapter one we began slowly as our bodies
mesh&entwined...;,
Can you distinguishes between Fantasy,
I'm here and these feelings are real.
Lust so passionate you'd think you
conjured me up from your imagination.,
I'm un reasonable when it comes to you,
I want to give you unquestionable pleasure.
Be the Concubine you desire & you shouldn't have to wait,
Not tonight anyways.,
Come here and let me show you,
Be mines....,
Sacrifice yourself,
Be my love salve and come away with me..,
I want to give you this
Delicious yet delicate sweet
Afrocentric Gift!
Speak into me poetically,
Mentally blowing my mind ,
touching with words as you hurt me gently
Yet pleasing my body..
take me
cuz
right now
I'm for the taking,
I'm ready and waiting,
open me,
for
tonight I'll be your
Latin mist
You Puerto Rican *** ,
Come get drunk off my love,
Let me sooth you
and
caress you into submission.
Take what's been given.
This Mix, and blend it with you ,
dance to my song
as
I open for you.
I'm ready and willing
to be what you want me to be.
Give
me pleasure
release the yearning
deep with in me...
I'm yours ya Afrocentric Gift!
Always me Ayeshah
Copyrights © 1977-2010 Ayeshah(A.K.K.C.L.N)
All rights reserved.
Olivia Robinson Dec 2013
bindi's grace the top of her mocha forehead.
wrist draped with bangles.      African soul.
style so Afrocentric
             afro so black panther
fist high in the air she is black pride. she embraces the motherland with open arms and is proud of her heritage. music notes hidden in the blacks of her eye. she is music. hiphop and r&b.;
tupac's  lyrics ingraved on her tongue. words of left eye instilled in her brain.
              music gives her life.
voice of an angel yet  she stays mute. black ink at her fingertips and a notebook always at her side. she is a lyrisit. she is sassy. press the wrong button and she's gone for a moment but will soon comeback to earth. a beautiful quiet vibrant soul she is indeed.  stubborn and mean at times but still as sweet as the refreshing taste of lemonade on a hot summers day.
she is Africa. she is India. she is Haiti. she is black pride. she is music. she is poetry. she is wonderful. she is comical. she is lovely. she is classy.
she is my big sister.                                     O.Rob.
my sisters been asking me to write her poem FOREVER! with her being a poet, I'd think she'd understand that i can't just sit and write a poem, the words must come to me. finally they did and today's her birthday so I thought I'd give it to her as a gift.
Ayeshah Apr 2013
I step up to the curtains
they weren't open yet,
but I could hear the melody of the music
and
I listen curiously,
as
the man performing before me spoke,
he used words to address me as a
Afrocentric --Soultress
with a little bit of Boriqua aurora ,
I bow my head and laugh.
The curtains lift as I walk out & up
I open my mouth softly
I tells of lovers wrapped entwined entangled
as
sheets become hiding places as lips taste of honey
from valleys of lustrous milky--juices
from a our oasis
of ******* *******,
and
overflowing valleys fill to the
brink with sweets raunchiness hehehe...
I step to the right to
look at the crowd
making sure they get the effect of how he tasted
as
I hold the mic
I gentle massage it
while motioning
to a man sitting right in front,
he licks his lips
and
I then turn my head to my left
addressing
the parties sitting right up front on my left,
I speak to them of the swells of his back and how
my nails dug deep as he enter me swiftly
with his Mandingo shaft...
how his blue eyes seeped into my brown eyes
while
he drove deeper inside of my mahogany velvet box,

a women in front crossed her legs tightly
and
wiggled in her seat,
I bow my head so I don't laugh,
I watch the center crown as
I explain how he  the man with this enormous
Mandingo ****
stuffs it down my throat
and
I **** him in choking as he trys to insert it deeper,
I'm lavishing up every bit of his essence, 
 the couple in the center hold hands even tighter
and
look at each other with a shared memory.
I flow with the music softly slowly
I connect with each member of my audience,
sharing with them the way he bent me over his stool inside
his photo lab
and
kissed between my cheeks as he spread me open
and
softly fingered my ***
while using the other to finger to lavishly assault
my chocolate velvety muffin,
as
I moaned he readily spread me,
telling me as he moved in front of me saying be still,
he tied me up to this tall stool, the crowd leans in
as if ready to hear the next verse,
I give in after a moments pause,
sharing with them how he spread my legs
and
tied them right after he spread
my hands on each leg of his stool.
In his photo lab he lubed up moving his hand up
&
down
his light skinned shaft,
I watched
and
longed for him to touch me again,
the radiance crowd
sitting on my left seemed
to be thinking as I did,
"is he going to stuff his **** back inside my mouth,"
I speak again
seeing how their all
longing to know he did in fact slowly 
walk up to me, lifting my head and saying open up baby,

I did as I was told,
the man sitting in the shadows
on my left
seems
to be stroking his **** as
I proceed to explain in poetic
****** verses
of this tall
high--yellow
black man
with the
blue eyes,
he seems in tuned
so I keep speaking of how
I licked his shaft
then allowed him to slowly meticulously
push
his **** inside my mouth
and
slowly pull out again .
I tell the audience how he ***** my mouth first slowly and then like a beast, he was ready to explode I explain how he grabs the head and stops him self from *******,

I get an
"Ah'awe"
from all the men in the audience
and
I laugh..
but
continued to explain
how he didn't want to just yet...
poetically
I explain how
he wanted to ready me for his assault
on my sweet *****,
using words to describe it ;
like mahogany rose buds or petals.
Explaining
how his Mandingo shaft
would be his weapon...
They seem eager to know more,
I tell a tale of how this light skinned brotha had me tied and teased me in his photo lab,
explaining how he pulled out a ***** just
as big as
his manhood was
and
while eating me he slide it inside of me
as
I quivered and shook he'd stop,
it seemed right when I was about to ***,
he seem to laugh out loud at my misery,
he knew just what he was up to, the audience seemed to get deathly quite,
seems even the music died
as explained the rough treatment I received at the hands of this blue eyed light skinned devil
of a man,
He licked me even at timed used his fingers along with this *****,

I explained to my audience
how he stopped his assault
on me as he slide his Mandingo up and down
my *** teasing my *******
putting the tip of his head in and then taking it out,
I told them how he finally stopped for a second,
then he entered my *** with the ***** and slide his 12" ****
deep inside my ***** causing me to cry out,
I tried to stop him but my hands were tied and that of my ankles as well,

and

he moved with such force and swiftness
I couldn't utter a word,
the more he moved the more
my body betrayed me as it heated up
from the inside out as
if he ignited something new and longing within me
he moved fast and ferociously in and out of me in sync
with the enormous ***** until
I myself was begging for him not to stop,
I
poetically
spoke memories & fantasies out loud,
letting my audience
know how
I
came so close to a ****** I've never ever got to feel or come close to feeling again,
I acted as if there was more but I then kissed the mic and walked off stage ....
  
  Another
Story
perhaps
another night
&
I'll
KISS THE MIC!
Always Me Ayeshah ®
Copyright ©
Ayeshah
K.C.L.N 1977 - Present YEAR(s)
**All right reserved ®
Ayeshah Dec 2010
She studied him ,while not really letting him
know she was checking him out
He was looking at her  bluntly
showing her he was looking
& checking her out too
As He crossed the room
to go turn on the stereo.,
She studied him closely
Noticing ; He looked
Afrocentric and so exotic
His Muscular ****** Body
worked to a hue of perfection.,
Honey Skin,Silk waves combed just right
so the light caught the red high lites
He probably didn't even know. he had
His face seemed sculptured
molded in pure model like form
****** hair shaved like he was working for GQ
Magazine Breath taking'ly Handsome.,
She held her breath as he looked up at her
he winked and pointed to the song playing
on the stereo
All she could do was nod her head in agreement.
He saw in the mirror how
she was looking secretly at him
or so she was lead to think,
He too was doing the same thing
Checking out this Beautiful Hypnotic Queen
The legs and hour glass shape was what 1st caught
his eye but the smile she gave
sent chills down his spine
the way she moved
so gracefully
like she was walking on air
made him feel weak kneed
Her Hair flowing in its natural state
curly and hanging down on her shoulders
giving her a heart shape looking face
he could run his hands in it but not just yet,
The feelings she in golfed
in him made him forget
what they was supposed to be doing
Studying for their law exam.
They didn't have to speak,
It seem the silences
would become a special communication.
Like in oasis the desert
the silence was a balm giving peace and respite
from the world
were words could become meaningless
sounds masking the emotions and abrading the senses.
These silences were uplifting ; a type of intimacy with-out
touching..,
Looking in His eyes and not saying a word
in harmony with each other
holing onto the memories of unspoken desires
casting off the shadows of doubt,
He don't need to enter her flesh
when just being there next to her was a gift
Cherished & treasured,
This was such a different kind of love.
She's looking in his eye's Silently
caressing him
Mind blowing thoughts shared
even as words were unspoken,
eye contact promised everything
Didn't need no words
when you're mentally
emotinally and
soon to be phycially connected
And then He Smiles.
His eyes light up
He has beautiful eyes
the thickest longest lashes
she had ever seen on a man
His light eyes became lit from
within and a feeling of sunshine
filled the room.
Because of her He was able to smile again
let the laughter in
Because of him she was able to trust
open up again.
And all this was done
With out a word!
Always me Ayeshah
written Saturday, December 23, 2006
© 2010
I have a question? What do you see when you look at me?
A man, ***** hair, that I'm black,my croocked smile Or my poetry?
I see ,when i look upon others, an empty room ,A new plain of existence just for us two.
I say room because of the mental constructs that are divisions
Race
Nationality
Class
Religion
Its not I'm me and you are you
It should be we,banded together just to get through,
Our lives.
We differ by so little,
Why we make the small contol us is a riddle.
I have a question why do so few know of the moors?
we don't know ourselves that's why we feel we need more and more.
Why is it when we try and impress others we are frantic,
But when I am proud of my history I'm afrocentric?
I'm not pro any race unless you are talking the human race but even if thats the case the problem we face is that we feel like we are in a better place then those who live on the same plain,same world, same pace.
The animals the plants we all come from the same soil and look how we've been spoiled with abundance but that does not warrent our decadence.
We have to destroy these  edifice
Errected using false truthes,  fear, blood and sacrifice.
Why is so much hidden
Why is the topic of civilized color forbidden?
Why do you have to be better?
Who are you trying to be better than?
Where is the quantified data?
Why can't we just be human?
I wrote this to vent. Had certain encounters with people which showed me this is still a problem, race. i don't understand why people dont learn more about themselves and others before making swinging ignorant statements.
VividaVortex Mar 2018
I find more joy in getting on Facebook to see what happened "On This Day." It's a gamble I'd rather, the familiar no matters. Could be a photo tag with somebody no longer a "friend." A beautiful piece of me I decided to share. Afrocentric stellar art. Depression markers. Funny meme. Punny me. Beats scrolling the news feed, being a lurk, seeing the same personalities at work, letting me in but not all the way. The beauty of Facebook. It's like a new relationship. You learn somebody. Their mannerisms. What they find socially palatable. Soulfully compatible. Well, you think you learn somebody.  Then your spirits meet below the surface and you pretend you don't see each other. It's easier to deal. Easier to bare. Mmm. Distractions, righ?  They're everywhere. This day, I chose not to bother with Facebook and commanded what would happen on this day. It's the gamble I'd now rather, actively choosing to simply live happier.
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Thou Ethiopian muse of mine: attend.
Now let my words wound souls and after, mend.
It’s time to slay some golden calves and knock
Some gods from off their pedestals. Let’s rock.
(I’d like my veal in gold-dust, with a side
Of injured Afrocentric racial pride.
)

Moses cut an oppressor down, who bled…
Moses buried him in the sand, then fled.
(Every ****** son of Adam bleeds out red.)
Midian offered shelter to the killer.
I hope you like my prefatory filler . . .

Remember in the desert how the tribes
Put up with Moses’ scolding diatribes,
Yet quickly fell for Aaron’s baby bull?
They paid for it, the half and then in full
By wandering around for forty years
And drinking bitter waters (Moses’ tears).
They even whined about his sultry bride;
Not Zipporah—his later, darker ride.
Let Ethiopia rise. She still is blameless
And Moses’ second wife here lauded nameless.

Discerning Israel means: there once were slaves.
Egyptians know the God of Hebrews saves.
Yehudah is no more the chosen clan
Than Joseph is old Pharaoh’s right-hand man.
And who is freed from *******, and who’s not
Should make us pause—observe . . . then think a lot.

Some tribes are pale-faced, others darker still.
And none can claim to grasp God’s perfect will.
Let **** haters rise—and leave the room.
Black racists too, be gone; and I’ll resume
My question: who’s oppressed, and who’s a grifter . . .
And how a curse descends, and what’s the lifter.
Perhaps you are a Hebrew . . . yet, some curse
Is evident in how you make things worse
By raging over long-past wrongs and rights
(Passive-aggressive lovers’ quarrel with whites…)
While Indo-Europeans watch the fun,
All Asia sighs, and prays God’s will be done.

Noah’s second grandson, Canaanite cow,
Oh golden calf, toward whom we’re forced to bow,
You sure can DANCE, and jump, and chant bad rhymes,
Cashing that blank check for slavery’s crimes.
The state commemorates your orator;
Content of character must come later (?)
You crack us up. Pure abomination
Promoted as artistic creation.
Your tag, your name—like ***** sprayed on walls.
Your neighborhood? Wherever garbage falls.
You’re born in freedom. Now you sample beats
Enslaved to violent nonsense in the streets.
That silly slang, new sneakers, dumb fashions
Showcase well your underlying passions.
Egypt’s kings? More like bad dangerous clowns
Revealing thuggish souls in sullen frowns;
Slurring unintelligibly your words
Which leave your lips like Lucifer’s own turds.
You’re laughable in your provocation;
Begging us to adulate your nation.
We must (MUST we?) celebrate your culture
And venerate what spawns from sinful nature.

You say you have it bad, you’re still enchained;
The Civil War unfought and and nothing gained . . .
You claim to be oppressed this day and age?
It seems you’re just excusing childish rage.
Go liberate yourself then, loudmouth slave.
Prove to the world that JESUS cannot SAVE.

Victims exist, others play the Race Card,
And seek a foe to blame when life gets hard.
Or worse: demand race-based reparations
Lining bank accounts with their frustrations.
Such money has been ransomed, in the form
Of public schools and welfare. Bring your storm
Of virtue-signal cries that I’m a bigot;
But spades will be called in spades—so DIG it:
Hope you can keep those Liberals on your side,
To con them as you take them for a ride.
Don’t compromise their cluelessness. Stay woke
To keep us laughing at your ethnic joke:
Ratcheting up the destructive drama.
Hate this whiteness? My reply: Yo’ mama.
For any son can knock up any daughter
Regardless of the racial myths they taught her;
We are one species. Sorry, but it’s true.
(Wish it were not, observing some of you…)

Muse of mine, Kushitic damsel, don’t leave.
You’ve heard me out thus far. I still believe
That there’s a remnant of Man’s fallen race
Who yet can be restored by God’s own grace
Regardless of their smarts, or style, or hue.
Fear GOD and live . . . for such were some of you.
ConnectHook  Sep 2019
Somnolence
ConnectHook Sep 2019
They be like: ****
You be like: no
It's just a World-Star minstrel show.
The Afrocentric thought runs deep . . .
(Now get your woke *** back to sleep.)
You so woke you overslept

— The End —