"sallowed" poems
procrastinating is my hobby,
ask
someone if you don't believe me ,
baby i lay around
as i please
&
work at my own leisure,
incredibly you fail
to understand i am me
and
i love more then like the way that i am- gorgeous courageous
coco golden skin,
painfully
i know you feel the threat of
my momentous appeal
keeps
you you & yeah you -- mystified.
guaranteed your days are filled
with shock and frustration,
haa haa hee
how very exciting to me seeing your not as experienced as I,
unlicensed to tame what i'd never give
freely,
repetitiously you've played the game,
failure must be a sweet pill sallowed whole huh?
adequately i compel my strengths -- my naivety makes
my appeal that more interesting,
call me uniquely imperfections
rarely made in to what many can never comprehend,
my life is my dialogue to my very own daily soap opera
la di da da-- it's more then my sultry walk
as i pass you on bye.
in this corrupted jungle
you have to win or be inhibited by
what others may call taboos,
whew weee your so serious,
chasing prey only to tease-- lingering doubts?
catch me-- i bet you can't.
innocently the line's been crossed
yet
speak not of what should be!
only-- this--
is what you'll know ; procrastinating is my hobby!
I Am The Lioness!
(some may be lost on what i wrote&say; but ok lol)
Always Me Ayeshah
Mar 24, 2010
Mar 24, 2010 at 8:38 PM UTC
You lie beside me
with romantic feelings inside
But they no longer exist for me
and I know every reason why
I do not feel guilty
for not giving you what you desire
I’ve spent years pretending
there were flames feeding my fire
Early on fear took control
and you began to sculpt me
crafting and moulding
until I became acceptable
I wanted to please you
and went along with your ploy
But I was blind to your agenda
and what you were going to destroy
Weeks turned into months
months into years
Decades have now passed
and you finally admit to your fears
Confessions cannot mend
what never was whole
You stripped my identity
and it’s taken its toll
The truth is my love
has diminished and faded
Your obsession with oppression
has left me apathetic and jaded
Today I am bound and determined
to shed your sallowed skin
and reclaim the original beauty
that has always existed within
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 1:50 PM UTC
I can see
how men fall irrevocably in love
with women
with so much soul in their bones
that it must ripple, and fill out living flesh
women who possess thoughts
that could bring down the sky
women with platinum eyes and satin skin;
willowing waifs and dewy dreams.
But how they fall even a stones throw
for women with
sallowed cheeks and deserted eyes
who paint themselves out of freckles and blush
women with
minds that contemplate only as much as the mirror reflects
and mouths that open to unwittingly break a misleading silence
women with
not an ounce of longing or lust
or love
in their veins, just a crimson thud
without a beat.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 9:54 AM UTC
Promises of respite
from sallowed ashes,
adorned with feathers
from a thousand culled doves.
Haplessly wishing that freedom
comes soon.
A hope ensnared
in the clench
of crimson-stained gloves.
Jan 4, 2024
Jan 4, 2024 at 12:16 PM UTC
lost and wandering with out a story
a midnight lampshade stretched out over glory
not tricks or tracks up my sleeve
no more wanting, no more to grieve
a silent not darkness has swallowed my skin
sallowed and sickly the light moves within
and deep in the counscious lying there
is my soul flying naked and bare
never wrote more truer story of romance and sin
and it got thrown out with the cat food in the bin
and now it is different the air smells alive
i can feel her beneath me making me drive
and there are no words, tho i use far to many
for every time i screamed **** i found a new penny
and she was there all along just under my pen
i'd already written about her in everything back then
and oh what is love, i hear the bells cry
it was not those girls who chose you to die
for their misfortunes and weakness and what the **** evers
i am neat, petite, i keep it together
i kept myself for her tho i never knew her before
she was number 3 behind the door
i knew before she was there, she was my wife
i knew that she was an end to my lesbian strife
too many women to **** me around to many times
too many the focus of my love rhymes
what for? whatever...what the ****
sssshhh...i even tried to write one a book!!
oh i can laugh now, oh i can laugh at myself
who was i back then, what was with the red pen?
and now she is my eyes, my heat, my kiss
every moment is a feelin of bliss
she's everything i searched for without knowing
and every night in the wind its blowing
her name, the air is breathless when she is here
and yes i have cried a salty tear
for all the thousand pieces of my heart i have given out
she is worth a million more, with no doubt
and i am sad for those who cannot feel like i do
i am sorry for telling all those girls 'i love you'
because it was not real, i'm sorry it was something else
maybe something that carried some sort of wealth
they were not even close to how my garden grows
how could i be so blind to what was right under my nose?
oh my sweet sweet girl, oh my sweetest love
there is nothing else i can give you but all of this
and my arms have fallen inside out for you....
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 6:29 PM UTC
Lost and wandering with out a story
a midnight lampshade stretched out over glory
not tricks or tracks up my sleeve
no more wanting, no more to grieve
a silent not darkness has swallowed my skin
sallowed and sickly the light moves within
and deep in the conscious lying there
is my soul flying naked and bare
never wrote more truer story of romance and sin
and it got thrown out with the cat food in the bin,
and now it is different the air smells alive
i can feel it beneath me making me drive
and there are no words, though i use far to many
for every time i screamed **** i found a new penny
and it was there all along just under my pen
i'd already written about them in everything back then
and oh what is love, i hear the bells cry
it was not those girls who chose you to die
for their misfortunes and weakness and 'what the **** evers'
i am neat, petite, i keep it together
i kept myself for him though i never knew him before
There was a number behind the back door
too many women to **** around too many times
too many the focus of my love rhymes
what for? whatever...what the ****
sssshhh...i even tried to write one a book!!
oh i can laugh now, oh i can laugh at myself
with a encyclopedia of ****** wealth
That was me? Who was i back then,
What did i correct? What was with the red pen?
and now there is my eyes, my heat, my kiss
every moment is a feeling of bliss
There's everything i searched for without knowing
and every night in the wind its blowing
their name, the air is breathless in here
and yes i have cried many a salty tear
for all the thousand pieces of my heart i have given out
there is to be a million more given, without a doubt
and i am sad for those who cannot feel like i do
i am sorry for repeating all those 'i love you's'
because it was not real, i'm sorry it was something else
maybe something that carried some sort of wealth
they were not even close to how my garden grows
how could i be so blind to what was right under my nose?
oh my sweetest love, my sweetest kiss,
there is nothing else i can give you but all of this,
I begged, stolen and borrowed hearts, black and blue
and my arms have fallen inside out for you....
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 12:59 PM UTC
Sun kissed, sea salted
Fine mist condensing on your
white dress
Early morning, cool dip
A resting smile on your
full lips
Water pooling in my hand
Our feet easing into sand
Through my camera's lens
the light bends around you
Flared out it crowns you
with a halo
Glowing angel
I dissipate, contemplate
what I wish to wash away
Shed sorrowed sallowed skin
on the shore of yesterday
Find a new spark! Fire! Ignition!
within us and
relinquish the unwanted ties
that have bound us
so we can begin again
begin again
begin again
I scream with my soul
to the horizon
Make me whole!
Only you can push and pull
my heart strings, the tide within me
You said you're tired of the weight
I said I'm tired of the wait
Forever is now
I'll sing through the night
if it would ease the lonely
frightened space inside you
Let my voice reverberate
off the walls of the hollow
pit you reside in when alone
Too often, I too, find my home
in the quiet isolation
Eyes closed, red glow
Floating fractalled spirals
weaving in and out of my lids
Bouyant, bouncing on the tip
of waves
I'd waste my day
melting drifting spinning sinking
drinking margaritas on the rocks
laying back with a big cigar
My coconut heart split spilling out on
petrified driftwood
You are loved and have
been loved by somebody good
My dieties gather
in the drunken hour
Sunken treasured memories
quell my delusions of grandeur
Reminding me how the smallest moments
linger
I want to kiss you deep
and remember it this time.
Leave out the spinning bottle,
sleep, and wake up refined
Tell you how I love you,
my partner in crime
We are two sides of the same coin
Harmonics in the southern cicadas song
Let's get up and out and on our way
through a city bright and new
before we're back on the road
to the unbecoming home
With new sight and fresh minds
clear conscious and the feeling
of hope and elation
With memories to slow our pulses
acceleration.
In the moments of anxieties
I am here for you
whatever our relation
I see who you are
in the moments of hesitation
I'm pulling in
feeling half past dead
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 9:30 PM UTC
I met a man, a gardener,
Who told of an auspicious seed.
He worked the seed, carefully
Its flower never seen.
The villagers would glance at him,
In times when things were looking dim
His ambitious eyes and sallowed skin
Reminded them to not give in.
When his work-struck shoulder stiffened,
strained back outed,
He still worked his seed.
And it never sprouted.
Until one off-beat Thursday morn,
the man did not get out of bed.
He passed away that fateful night,
The patch was left an empty stead.
The village gathered for the mass
A crowd with eyes of glass,
They stood and spoke, with admiration,
Of his hard-laboured inspiration - unforgotten.
Outside the Church, in the man's humble patch,
A seed sprouted, flourished - hatched:
Eden would have paled to see
The tree that came from this mere seed,
Hard work and dedication-
A tribute to his legacy.
Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 12:24 PM UTC