What can I serve you?
"For a time being"
on the floor.
My pen wore red, and scathed a struggling stroke
Black became it better, until feeble nib broke
Blue cried abiding stains, after much impatient rigour
Green was inconsolable, and pink was unconsidered
It was led who was left when all else lacked
That was until rouge eraser attacked
Is it a conscious activity of the precarious pen
To cease work as you require it again and again?
am a walking
My figure parts beams
of others' light
like an aura
is my signal
to both come,
and to go.
Inspired by a favorite poet of mine, Mark Strand.
Yo, I say yo
You think you can just ignore a ***** like me
Read my messages but I get no reply
What, you hoping a ***** will cry?
******* too *****
Dis ***** right here ain't gon die in no ditch
Thinking yo lack of words gon **** a *****
Naw naw imma come out on top
Gon have me a dime piece and a guap
You gon wish you gave me the time of day
Instead of being a ***** and making me feel some type of way
This one is about a former coworker that would only talk to me when we were working together but since me getting fired she only reads my messages but doesn't reply.
You think you can speak to me like that ***
You best come correct when you talking to me
I thought you were a special lady
I used to think you were a hottie
But naw you just a lil thotty
Step back, get away, you can't come near me
**** was you thinkin' callin' a ***** out
You best watch yoself usin' them CAPS like you is angry
Coworker that I was crushing on rejected my past confession and left me feeling dejected as y'all can see. She said she'd still say hi but now I can only text her if it's job related. So this poem is what I have to say to that.
you sing the language of my heart, o, songs so sweet, too lavish to name. it is true that pure and just souls are the only ones with ears to hear the melody sung by you. no other tainted, conceited heart is equipped to understand the tongue you speak. an ode of love so powerful that those that are wicked in nature condemn the song they choose by action not to hear. O, sweet and utter fools! my tender spirit breaks for the judgment they bestow on you, for what do they know since they cannot hear the melody? their preconceived notion‘s are their faults and blindness, they are deaf to your song of love. and again I say what do they know? since they chose not to acquire the language of true and everlasting love. and it is to be said, those who do not hear are ignorant in love, and not by bliss, but by stupidity.
in a crowded room,
why won’t you say you love me?
are you too ashamed?