Chances are you forgot you have an ace
In your pocket, questionable thespians are weary, winsome women
In a poet's life, bringing him to temptation and avoiding coyness
Coarse behavior can be a form of attention and aptitude
But the coquettish reminded me of the inhibitions as an observer
An accosted girl left in a town also was a part of this terse reason
Edicts could have been written on her spontaneous knowledge
Buttressing this poor logic was her reasonable interest in my expression
Art, was a class apart when we sat together creating a dense-structured essay
Yearning for better proliferation in opulent desires, ideas were purloined
Carpe Diem became Carper Nocte
And the Illuminati Du Ponts were a sourced for respite
As her religion didn't interest me
Her faith in God brought me tears
I folded her legs and broke her spirit
Took her to a place where religion made me happy
The release was being with a long-lasting ******
The happiness was in the blood
Blackness hovered her face as she was gonna get it
The pressing of the abdomen didn't bring adolescence anymore
God what is time to those religious, but, reckless
In the everlasting love for enervated breath and emotion
Relentless, there were frescoes of superior litany veritably written

cos when i get mad i get big mad,
should have never did that get back,
bout to feel the wrath of a menace ,
in my bag, in my feelings,
im a bad lil ***** ya know....




Jhene Aiko

I see my mind upon my shy lips,
just like the lure of wisdom in time I breathe my truth,
my body becomes the architecture of sensuality,
beyond the rhythm of the divine in history,
I never stop from gaining power,
above them all,
I’m dancing like a deluge of soft sexuality,
a kiss from God would melt the flame of hell inside my soul,
my skin is brighter than the moon’s pale delight,
like the shape of art in history I grow and flourish,
turning and burning the past of art and religion,
my faith and power is beyond reality and genius,
when I pierce the depths of your desire my eyes will change and will transform your truth and manner.

As I age, as time drifts by,
I couldn't help but wonder,
how I lived like a lie.

Life is a movie, they say
a comedy, a theatrical play.
I watch as the stars glisten in the sky,
nobody knows how hard I try.

I try to live,
to please you
yet all you see
is a rebel who deceives you
and a loathsome flee.

Now, all that's left is a worn out soul,
a tired mind,
a lifeless role.
All I could do is apologise,
for the genius in me no longer lives by.

Poem Analysis

1st read, I thought gibberish,
2nd I thought Hmmm,
3rd I thought interesting,
4th I felt genius.  billy


your poem comment-dissects my poem
my process,
a marathon interview for a new poem pole position,
limb by limb, word by word,
chewed and re-chewed,
like a tiring piece of bubble gum,
the flavor remaining ebbs, but is not extinguished,
and can live in your mouth,
forever

and the praise and this poem,
not a rodomontade,
for your comment dear Billy,
is the process description of a poet’s labor,
from word first to a baby’s birth,

gibberish into genius

emergent from first pain, then pushing, then tilled, at long last,
the dirtiest immaculate conception beautiful

billy reads my rambling, silly abstruse^ & wrote me:
1st read I thought gibberish,
2nd I thought Hmmm,
3rd I thought interesting,
4th I felt genius

this is a much loved critique
for I well recall each step of creation,
a summarizing parallel
that your words+genes replicated so well,
forgiving you a minor typo, Billy,

it was genus, not genius that you meant

(but then again, why quibble over a miscellaneous, harmless, delighting, tiny little  extra i...not me, said he, my muse ego )

Billy has gone gray dotted, but his dot, his comment,
with gratitude,
in me, he,
lives for ever

I feel gibberish coming on...