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Each time we get together,
we’re bumpin’ heads
tryin’ to start something
and not be able to finish it
we’re just tryin’ to get the kinks out
whoo hoo

can’t get it down perfect on our first try
we got to work on this together
talking to you, talking to me
brain stormin’ on ideas on what to do
we’re just tryin’ to get the kinks out
whoo hoo

not everything’s going to turn out right
on our first trip down the road
i’m crazy and so are you
come on and get’s this machine movin’
we’re just tryin’ to get the kinks out
whoo hoo

Temper’s flarin’, the top’’s busted out loose
losin’ steam on things
we gotta keep on tryin’
don’t get frustrated
we’re just tryin’ to get the kinks out
whoo hoo
She is not me, therefore she is perfect.
It's easy to see why the world has fallen in love with her.
And why you have given her a title even God would envy.
Her skin has been softly kissed by the Arabian sun.
She glows intensely, vividly. 
Her hair, a sea of black cascading down the curves of her back.
You told me that her smile reminds you of a spring sunrise.
A Victoria Secret model with the mind of a future president.

I still remember the look on your face when you described your future together.
Little carmelo babies, a mixture of your dark melanin and her smooth olive tone.
A glimmer of pride in your eyes at the reality of "avoiding" black children. 
Stating how they will speak none of the African languages, as Xhosa or Zulu won't really take them far. 
I watched as you began to cut away their African roots.
Not really sure if it was out of ignorance or out of shame. 

I watched as you insinuated that I would never be good enough. 
Stating how you loved silky hair, yet getting angry when women of color wore weaves.
You eyed my afro, always asking me if I had combed it that day. 
Not realising that my hair was attempting to reach the pedestal in the sky that you placed her on.
It's kinks getting tighter at the embarrassment of never being good enough.
I would have turned a shade of red when you said you don't like black women, but my chocolate skin refused to give you that pleasure. 

With every breath I take, I am reminded that I'm somewhat empty. 
Watching as the person I thought I loved described how he hated everything about me.
Perhaps you could tell the sadness in my eyes.
Or maybe the heartache kept staining the words I spoke.
But you held my hand and told me I'm different.
You said that my kinks were a crown of candy floss that tickled my cheeks on a summers day.
You exclaimed how my dark skin was like that of charcoal: a dark consistency like no other.
Claiming my accent was no where near black, stating it with a smile almost as though it were a compliment. 

But even with all this, I still love you.
I will forever be drawn to the warrior spirit that lingers within.
The spirit that ruled empires and dynasties.
I still weep the day when like Samson, she cut your locks to leave behind only a shadow of a man who's strength was without bounds.
I'm in love with the potential you don't know you poses.
You will forever be my king,
Eveb when you fail to recognise me as your African Queen.
Crushing Love  Dec 2014
Anime
Crushing Love Dec 2014
I don't care what anybody else thinks,
Anime is is bae, even if it has it's kinks.

I hate the internet, with a burning passion now,
and all because it took my anime!

I was almost done with Death Note and Black butler
Now what? Do I just watch re-runs of Bleach and High School DxD?

Anime I LOVE you! and Last night I almost Cried! I now look at my boyfriend and say....

I understand why you almost died...
Like I said I don't care what anybody thinks, ANIME IS AMAZING!!!
Last night I found out I can't use my website  anymore and I almost cried that's how upset  I was.
Myaja Black Sep 2015
Take me to an art museum on our first date  
       Snip pictures of me next to the masterpieces and when im hungry buy me a veggie burger and strawberry smoothie
          Compliment my kinks when I take out my braids tell me on gorgeous even on  
            those "****** days ".
Support my dream to strut the runway but dont force me to go to church on Sunday
                 Love me for who i am
                       Is all I ask
            Effort will take you a long way
         Once you complete this task
Im not that hard to please
Nicholas Kurtz May 2014
Oh Jackie

Do you think it’s easy

To fall in love with just a kiss

Now every day I miss that natural

Curl of your lips

I can’t explain your beauty

Maybe it’s just a kink

Something I saw in a dream

Of beauty Aphrodite esteems

And maybe some ancient time

You’re shape was aspired

You were molded like clay

And heaven laid the lines on your face

I so admire

Every glowing smile

And forever linked

In a web of my little kinks

I fall hard for beauty

Carved like a goddess from maybe another life

When I’m drunk I wanna call you up

And say, **** it let’s go elope

Be my wife

And I’d never say these things to your face

For all you know I’m just another disgrace

A missed connection, you could never give a ****

For every text and every kiss that I miss

And you can find something else?

I wish I knew what it was

Cause when I met you

I just wanted to run away in the sun

And find you a place that I can truly say

The beauty only compares

To the curl of your lips

And the rose of your cheeks

And the soft, caress of your kiss

Forever imprisoned

To find something comparable

This feeling has taken me over, it’s unbearable

I can only lay, here, here in the sand

And hope to god a love like hers

Will find me somewhere?
To a woman whom I believe found this poem on my blog
And never texted me back
I believe it was a fine two weeks of mad lust :)
www.eugene-moon.weebly.com
Purples and Pinks
Wrapped around for your kinks

Tight jeans and leather belt
In your arms, I tend to melt.

Shiny and black heels
Off a layer I peel.

My lipstick that's red
Tangled together, we fall back to bed.
larce dagrate Sep 2014
The wind wants to comb my har but gets tangled in its snare.

my wooly bend of kinks and bends has now got them all to stare.

i didnt ask for this texture but its the only one i wish to be next to.

i can braid it , blade it, grow it hide it show it , its always there.

right in place , it doesnt fall into my face.

my barber is the best barber he can cut  it into shapes.


i can tape it fade it wear it long shave it.

but it will always be my **** ***** curls black hair.
Camilla Peeters Aug 2018
he used to say he was speaking for an entire people
probably he meant that he understood the sheer veil of
not possessing the Owner yet cursing closed veins
and i can cut Narcissus' marron curls twice think about listing emotions regularly
unafraid some blood refuses to flow my way i feel deficient

behind the sheer-blue veils of eyes
and the water/the waves there is nothing more
than an unpoet
a piece of work
very much instead
a fool also
behind Narcissus is the unbending floor
i can see some gushing grey pieces of completely undusted power

his hands do not interfere with heated temperatures
when Narcissus touches my red-left-ear
without asking the rest of his body remaining same
steady
not even refreshing/refreshed anymore

he again and again clasps his shell hands around
my shoulders some sort of hug and i
freeze yet dissolve i am a watered down paradox
i do not know how to behave
i wish another Nemesis would clasp me that she
would put me into a bathtub my natural
habitat is water anyways
they are Rex and Regina and
i love how her hair remains darker, shorter
even after i cut his curls it does not matter what i do
they are powerful

meanwhile i am in the clouds all
blue all by myself i blurred my vision for
mountains of misunderstandings
those are my trophies i float and
scratch the tips of my fingers on all
the glowing god
awful drama i am a naked goddess the clouds
take me away
they shield me from lightning but not from darkness
i find myself fixated on the dark side of the moon for
scraps of paper it lulls for
individual letters it spits out
i wish i could stop being eighteen or nineteen or
twenty or twenty-two why do numbers come
for me algebra was never my forte i count
and count but my feelings never add up

and i finally feel grounded
into dirt Lupin closest to me our legs
line up without lights always
a little more wild
animal-like and
he kisses my back right where
i chose the moon to reside still it does not
phase me it does not change my desire
to dissect the muscles in his arms
leave the ones in his skull alone
doubt his feelings for me and my feelings for him and my feelings for me i lost my path and Lupin remains
third chasing me down dark chasms
consciously or pinned down we're always in bed
all of us pinned down by the heat by my pillows by the
lines on my neck
Lupin, i love it when you pin me down but you do not
keep me awake when
i've retreated into my bathtub

last blood moon made me bleed i am an
open wound still i am ******* holy/wholly
when you are conquered by me you will
scream for mercy

on middle grounds i shake the veils
around my waist that ground me minimally
i shake and shack them wishing to glue eyes next to
the garnets that garnish my see-
through dress i assess my desires again
i do not know about mildness i want
every star in the milky room every level in the crossed-out
game i want materials rough i want materially everyone on my list

you will never see through me even when
i open my chest there will be vaults of veils
Salome counted only seven but she was
a woman in the first century after men ****** up i
am intellectually miles ahead of her
i have sewn miles of veils together
a silky harness i shield myself with

my egotism is rising on a mountain of misunderstandings
in the milky room they all revolve around me my planets,
my moons crystal clear
my comets and you are dark energy Possessing me
everywhere yet persisting unveiled/unknown
not even your existence can be proven and i do not
ever want to see you/not see you
you are completely parallel to me

and i know my river sweetness is not over
me when he paints me i see his own
****** features through holes in my
face it pains me
how he still wishes we could
come together how he wouldn't
fall so far behind

you will never see through me
i twist the truth to be a diluted version of your thoughts which
i have read and despised i despise tongues and *****
still i dwell in wetness was this what i wanted to reach?
do i know? why do my eyes itch and i scratch until i bleed
never let it heal i want to be in pain

why do my eyes itch whenever i eat anything
itty bitty spicy risqué
why do i cry over four flights of stairs,
four flocks of friends,
four flights back home,
and the exit is wide wide open
Karina Jan 2015
How did you get here?
Perhaps there was a big bang, and so you were.
Maybe you hit the ground running as fast as your legs could take you.
Was it so that you opened you mouth and words poured out perfectly?
Perchance all that was obtainable was already yours.

My journey was not of such ease.
I was birthed after hours of labor.
For every step I walked I fell six times before.
For months my tears and laughs were my only way of expression.
My parents, as many, knew patience.

Our parents, our teachers, our siblings, even ourselves: we had patience.
We are here because of it.

Now we can marinate our meat for flavor, but we pop diet pills for fast results.
Now we can slow cook our meals, but we abuse drugs to erase our sorrows.
Now we can raise a baby, but we let go of precious relationships too easily.
Now we can be a teacher, but we give up on ourselves.

Patience is putting in the effort for results, even when we don’t see the results for weeks, even months.
Patience is choosing the narrow road, even when the wide one is less lonely.
Patience is taking all the loops, kinks, and bumps as they come; and not giving up after the first couple roadblocks.
Patience is to love unconditionally, even if we have to step back for a little while.

Patience is all rage; we all need more of it.

We are all patients for patience, but we get too sick of waiting.
Our doctor was there, our remedy too, but a cheap high walked past and we chased it.
Chris Slade Dec 2018
I’ve O’D’d on Glucosamine Sulphate, so much I’m mentally scarred.
It’s escalated now I’m 70… I’ve mainlined on my Senior Railcard…
I bow down to the Norse God Voltarol… He eases all my pains…
and there’s Deep Heat, Germaloids, even Anusol for the other stresses and strains.

The wondrous Winter Fuel Allowance! That’s what lights our lamp these dark days - ahh, those twilight hours!
But after the logs, it’s not Leccy or Gas we crave? No! We buy ***** with ours…
the Whisky, Gin, *****, Wine, a drop of Brandy too. It all helps us numb the cold
whilst memories of happier times gone by - brighten up this ****** growing old.

Supplements, sterols, statins, aspirin, beta blockers… All the heart meds - life’s a battle.
In the 60s it was *** and Drugs and Rock ’n’ Roll… Now there’s less *** and a lot more rattle!
****** fails to make it now - “no more”, after the last time - she said!
These days the only thing it does is stop me rolling out of bed!

The bus pass lets me roam the world… from John O’Groats to Land’s End.
But these days I travel locally Southwick, Lancing, Steyning; oh yeh and a cousin in far Gravesend.
Further afield; abroad perhaps? Well no…Back then it was Newhaven for the Continent.
But now I’m over 70, well, it’ll just be Worthing for the INCONTINENT!

And… did I say? Not that I was ever in the habit of measuring it you understand - or straightening out the kinks
I’m pretty sure that these days - and ’no’ it’s NOT just the cold… but, your once adequate **** - it shrinks!

I'm sorry...Your *******! It ain't so long!
First poem I read in public as a poetry ******... It went well enough for me to decide that I would do it again.
Living in this yellow box filled with aging trinkets
A lonely guy trying to get by just hasn't sealed the link yet
Bout a cup of milk left in the fridge and God forbid I drink it
A shaggy dog; that ***** hog, why can't they smell the stink yet?
The junk comes barreling through the door so fast that you can blink it
There's no more room for gloom and doom, but let's fit one more inkjet
They just got rid of dinnerware,  a silver and a pink set
So now to hoard an ancient sword, a blender and a mink set
Five garbage bags of someone's clothes, the sixth one's in the sink, wet
With lots of cans and pots and pans, we'll reach the jagged brink yet
They're trying to let go, said there ain't no space to think yet
They're workin hard to raise the bar, ain't  worked out all the kinks yet

Pressed for time and low on space
****** I need to get out of this place...
hoarders
Infamous one Sep 2013
Being a coach has is responsiblity
When the team wins they celebrate
But you keep them focused for the next game
You push them to be better prepared
The coach takes on all the weaknesses making them a strength
When the team fails the coach know the job wasn't done right
A loss means the coach needs to push and not fail again
If the coach hates losing the team should feel the same way
One common goal and work out the kinks everything will fall into place
No hard work goes unnoticed so earn it and it will get a positive outcome

— The End —