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Rama Krsna Nov 2021
as the shimmering stars
in the scorpio skies
samba in syzygy,
here on scorched earth
the sparkling eyes of this silk rose
become stress’s antidote to soothe body and soul.

feeling sanguine,
even a tad sangfroid,
i smile,
scribbling sultry muses
sauced with sass and sibilance


© 2021
I was given a challenge to compose a poem which captured the essence of the word sibilance
JJ Hutton Nov 2012
I left the electric bill in the mailbox. Along with one of those Get to Know Your Community at Christ's Church pamphlets.  One where Jesus sits holding a sheep, and oriental kids sit criss-crossed and apple-sauced at his feet. An advertisement for Great Wall Chinese food rounded out the lineup. How many trashcans must be filled?

But your letter, a mini-salvation at the sight of your name alone, came with me. My octogenarian neighbor with the heavy jowls and purple hair watched me rummage through the mail as her leashed shih tzu ****** in my yard.  Good morning. A nod. No response from my neighbor like usual. She's hardly a neighbor. More like a cop that directs traffic just past her property onto mine so traffic can **** my grass.  The shih tzu, though, that thing quaked as if I might give it a hard kick in the ribs. A satisfying thought.

My great pleasure dissipated when I opened your letter. Don't worry about Tim. I know he cares about you. He'd be an idiot not to. These are things I'm supposed to say. The sad truth being that Tim is a man. And like the rest of us, he's cheating on you. Probably with a thinner woman. A model that still subscribes to ****** chic. Or at least ******.

Before you take a kitchen knife to one of his neglected polos, make sure he's okay. Bizarre advice, I know. My mind only wandered when I did't feel like I was worth a million bucks. You always made me feel like two million. So, I'm sure it's something on his end.

Pour the whiskey until he opens up like one of those cashiers you make the mistake of acknowledging when they've been on the clock for five hours and still got three to go. He'll tell you about the baby he can't feed, the gonorrhea feasting on his urethra, and the titanic loan he took out from mama looming over his head. After he's said his piece, his load will lighten. The clouds will part. Fingers crossed.

The way you described his despondent behavior sounds like the lurking grey of bad luck. A black cat. I'm reminded of the time in my beat-up Cavalier when a black cat began to cross the street in front of us over on 86th and Western. Do you remember that? You have to. I cursed the bad luck. Then my curse seemed to stop the stupid beast in the middle of the lane. He looked straight at me. The headlights reflected off his eyes, and you grabbed the wheel. Turned it right into the cat. "I **** my bad luck," you said as the cat's end was confirmed with a thump. Then you said something like if they don't cross your path completely, it doesn't count. Find the bad luck before it snickers from the other side.
Tell me why indigenous
seems so obsolete?
Thoughts in the genius
whose sense is up so late

Why originality
seem so fake?
And off-reality
is worth the take?

It might not seem its best
nor have the Sauce
Not in Vogue as the rest
But it's the source


-Pastorlee
I choose #originality
#indigenousSombodi
your #LocalBoy

#ipoet
Sethnicity Dec 2016
Why *** lie bowling A sway Black reigns Pull in spite blue wind bowing chains

Saw row dove in from dry stains stare his leisure bee twin faux brick games

Lies tat lie wow stains high streets raking like father calls, waking

Death shaking width gall diss clarity may skys carry mi disdain forsaken

Bile the sight sauced swirled dreams key drown complacent
Visually stimulated, Beat sequence motivated.
Blossom Dec 2016
Colorless icicles hang off my hair
That has lost all of it's bounce and sway
Now resting on top my head
Looking like a disarray
Of sauced up spaghetti noodles
Missy Beminio Jul 2013
everything is backwards
figuring out forwards
giving it time
finally mine
if you think I'm lost
you're probably right
so I'm getting sauced
until I see the light

everything is backwards
nothing is right
but I think I might be
finally seeing the light
head is pounding
problems are mounting
somebody save me
help me with this fight

moving forwards
heaving fog is blinding
unclear the road ahead
maybe I'll just go to bed
dreaming the future
still feeling unsure
accepting this fate
makes me feel pretty great
considering this day
maybe I'll stay
I'll put a brick in my hood
I'll throw a brick to ya dome
I'll shove about anything
To get me through up my nose
And I still flatter them  hoes
And get their ******* all wet
Until they drip, drip outta the dryer
I'm washed up they said
Yeah, I'm sauced up too bad
Sick as **** in the head
Don't give a **** about bread
I'm busy countin' my lead
I'm about as sick as they get
So I break up some nugs
Have a *** count my stacks
Line my crib with straight thugs

One, two, three, six, click
Clappin' these sixes while she's suckin' my ****
Leavin' my Deagle 'cause I'm wantin' to live
Givin' heaven the finger 'cause I'm lovin' to sin

No one gonna stop me
Yeah, nothin' that can top me
I'd wreck a ******' Bentley
Then suit up on a Harley
Take a trip to Muncie
And load up on some chronic
And smoke until I'm smellin'
Like a farm of hydroponic
****, I gotta get my mind right
But I can't 'cause I'm livin' in the high life
Not a cent gets spent on a dime, right?
Wrong, I spend it all the time

And time keeps tickin'
My watch looks broke 'cause I can't stop spinnin'
Run outta smoke so I tryna hit some resin
My lungs stuck up, but I just keep rippin'
Them souls apart, them hoes apart
Nothin' but the best for my bros so far
I am the number one in this
God-forsaken little blip
Midwestern farmer ****
No one here allowed to spit
But I do everyday
While all my ******' neighbors be balin' that hay
Hooray, we got another couple mouths fed
'Til I force-feed 'em an entree of straight lead
Sethnicity Dec 2016
Why *** lie *** mowing a way Black Reigns, Pull in spite blue wind Blow win Chains

Saw row dove in foam pie strains stare his pleasure bee twin faux brick dames

Lies tat lie wow stains high streets raking like father calls, waking

Sleep shaking width gall dis charity may sky is carry me disdain forsaken

Smile the sight sauced swirled dreams key drown complacent
Visually stimulated, Beat sequence motivated.
Sethnicity Nov 2016
White light blowing away my Black shames Pure in sight through head window panes

Sorrows woven foam pie brain she games Share his leisure bee twin fab wick dames

Lies that line our veins white sheets draping, Like wind wonder walls breaking

Breath taking, width all dis clarity my cries remain Unshaken, Dis dam S Forsaken,

While the sight sauced swirled beams me down and
     vacant.
Visually stimulated, Beat sequence motivated
Metaphor: Unaware bachelor @ Bachelorette *******
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2016
or that worth of gimp, the hotted sauced out
cradle of predatory amusement              banked on,
                        i have the notes,
mind you, you're clearly laden
with khaki material,
to mind the blackshirts of the SS,
a Vandal epiphany -
                 less khaki juice
and more blackcurrants -
                  or so the motto stands,
asserting brief and all that thought
of tomorrow.
                   all i'll add with this
vague blunt alcohol ridden self?
the vampirism of the abandoned trill
of the R...
                   that's the Vlad-blatant
abandonment of the trilling of the R -
and the competent disregard for
linguistic laws...
                 until tomorrow,
until i find my sobering-up manicure
and in rewrite the notes i've made
when inspired...
                      and i have made them...
it's all about me being nicknamed
a Viking for my tolerance to drink
you under the table, and dabble with nods,
or the blatant hiding of the tetragrammaton
with ghee (said gee) and otherwise,
                  (Indian butter) -
or dhal - or quiet simply daal / dāl:
against the aesthetics, ouch.
     again in French: je t'aime: ř - adding zero
hour to the said: sharpening the shrapnel -
                       jaded temp. / jay temp. /
                  j-j ****** or the rue flu.
oh it's there, in the notes,
as i benign the thought: unfit today,
payday tomorrow.
wait... i might have a sober moment tonight...
         encapsulate that with a question
about Iran, and a quasi-stop in conversation...
        or counting the strokes in a handwritten
variation:
              Yen ( ¥‎) = 4
                      pound (£) = 2
    matchsticks...
                             elsewhere also matchsticks:
º (red)
                = R E D (3, 4, 2) matchsticks,
                 º (
writing is termed another variant of arithmetic,
the total is 7, for one ideogram) -
             the sigma for red
   is 9, but divided by three means
        the European model falls 4 short
of optical indigestion.
     ř (caron) - caron of the missing z -
         not the variant of caron s and c with z:
czekam (i'm waiting), or szukam (i'm looking),
English has this pronoun priority
                   to be included in every phrase,
or what provides the British Empire fabric:
            how a-  (indefinite)
     and the-    (definite) articulation secures
pronouns with excess modifications
  as already apparent conjunction modifications
worthy of exegesis into the exotic / excess.
there are 7 pages worth of notes,
   but i have three quarters worth of whiskey to
drink... give me an Andy Warhol moment
suggesting: in the future, people
will have only 15 minutes worth of rechargeable
         infrastructure; hence the pending /
ongoing / will return to in a minute.
reintroducing the trilled R vogue:
    is a bit like incubating a vampiric
in English,
                    rzekomo (apparently so)
       řekomo -
                         variant of: as already stratified.
               still, the trilling of the R
is so out of fashion in English it's necessarily
a vampirism qualm -
                   never nearer the French hark
when the R summarises a rolling effect -
      by imperial standards charred.
howe then to resemble a trill?
           r̭ ?
                   or wave akin to wavering
                       (ñ) that's necessary above an r?
i need the trill represented!
    for thrill a better word -
                  or 0 and the minded gambit.
as said caron the missing H...
       twins in
                 Y or three-dimensional space,
and W
              of trigonometric absorption...
waves hunny, waves...
                          and three dimensional space
and rabbis... honey cluedo pooh bear...
i still need to find the trilled r!
**** me, the trilled r! virgulilla:
or thus said, a patent otherwise.
        yet again a ******* Yeti,
    counting matchsticks in Japan
   rather than in Iowa...
             cos it really ******* mattered
given the knots -
       and other reminders...
         yen, or Jenny,
      v. p o u n d
            (2 1 2 2 2);
          ś (acute) half-missing caron
      inc. grave v. š (caron)
             or the Sean Connery effect -
e.g. środa (wednesday) or škodaª
             (insert a H or a Z)
           for pronunciation
                        of the Czech car manufacturer,
already the Tetragrammaton descends:
   ªwhat a shame, it's such a shame.
       Mishter Bondè:
                                tequila sunrise?
ney - ney shaken nor shackled to a shtir (
šush it, and wise up, mš. moneypenny).
    just say Sharon and write Šaron:
dimples!
                         or how to paint a Kabbalistic
anatomy of the mouth to slow variation
between ś (acute) / no consonants will ever
acquire a gràve - necessary: the e isn't said
accenting / syllable scalpelling cutting up...
but still the coran s (š - to mention
ch in cheap, and šiš kebabs too).
variation of cutting up the caron into
acute and grave?
      ś: the tongue is primarily squeezed by the psyche /
breath and the mouth rekindles eating a lemon
tightening it's juiced up and juices the tongue
to sting with missing saliva -
š? primarily a serpent's hush -
  the mouth hollows out -
         the breath enters a so does a pufferfish:
antics of hollowed out mouth follow suite,
the diamond or double L

       bone                                    soul
               L muscle                            L teeth
  tendon                               tongue

synonyms and Γ apart -
                                 of the LL, or ΓL
                    or LΓ or ΓΓ.
                      the diamond diadem -
assertion of bone: whether caprais or
   cousin in the mandible family...
    is a tongue a muscle?
            still the Kabbalistic anatomy dynamic...
  the kinned appearance of H or the
variant of bone...
     or?
              a-
                     (+)
                              -theism,
it doesn't mean that God doesn't exist,
it just means that God has no logical attachment
to man's sprechen,
            the omni- can be rightfully disregarded
in that rubric consolidated within
categorisation of: lazy...
      a- (i.e. without)  
                            theology,
              ­       or our abhorrent freedoms of will,
nurtured by a universal lack:
       atheism contemplates talk of god
without a contradictory circumstance of the
human endeavour to find itself a *******
     lacklustre of comparative Raphaelite
                 illustration...
                           always the favourite,
aren't they, the crucified ones, rather than
those enthroned? aren't they? so why are the
Japanese asking about their ****** culture?
over-sexualised west?
let's ask Yokote,
   let's ask Takeshi,
let's ask Masahiro,
             sure... you can ask me:
  i prefered prostitutes because i actually
knew i was using my phallus rather than representing
a ******* identity of some egocentrism
regarding the skyscraper -
                     and the last girlfriend i had?
i wouldn't wish her to be a companion of
any kind of a Mongolian invader as part
of a horde... i had an argument with her
and was so unhappy i actually wished i was dead...
          jerking off never seemed so holy
as when encountering this woman who
stood by the motto: life is ****...
           but i guess money does that to you.
**** me! i never expected to be so Japanese in
my outlook;
tragic, i know, but what can you do,
    you unlock the floodgates of feminism
and you think that lions will start to provide for
the household? then you aren't lionesses; obviously;
or reluctantly so:
           i find the 21st century is withstanding
  any kind of revision, given the 20th century's
revisions aren't working
        for any worthy necessitation of reciprocated
stipend.
I have no soul

I have been cored harshly like apples ready to be sauced

The only things in my life I willed to keep were stolen away

Too afraid to do it myself could Kevorkian help me out?

Oddly, after all the talking I've done, I've no fight left

Just tears of self-pity

Two innocent lives will relive the cycle of my life

Due to the meddling of a horrible girl

Too obsessed with her own gain to realize their loss

If there were a God, He would strike her dead

If I were God...

Those things are better left unsaid.
This one hits me hard. The original title was a name. I will be the better person this time and give it a different title.
Terry Collett Jun 2015
Miss Pinkie
and her son
at a bar

and I was
near to them
sitting down

in a chair
and he said
things to her

as he looked
back at me
she told me

he was in
the police force
and married

and said things
back to him
looking back

towards me
and smiling
I think he's

probably
saying to her
he's too young

young enough
to be your
oldest son

and he's right
I am young
enough to

be her son
but what he
doesn't know

or maybe
doesn't want
to know is

I've shafted
his mother
to the music

of Mahler
both of us
well sauced on

Scotch whiskey
sometimes on
her blue couch

other times
on her bed
with moonlight

coming through
her bedroom
wide window

and moon glow
playing on
my naked

rising ***
Miss Pinkie
and her son

return with
all our drinks
and sit down

I watch him
wondering
what he thinks.
MEETING A LOVER'S SON IN 1973.
James Floss Jan 2018
Did Descartes say
"I’m drunk, I thunk:
Therefore I am’nt, Sam…?
And is that now a can of spam, Ma’am?”?

Here and now and then besides
Later perhaps, sometimes betides
Then once again I hunger for:
Tinted eggs and ham once more.
OnwardFlame Dec 2014
If you let me
Be so,
If I let me
Be so,
I could be your little china doll.

I straddled you last night
After drinking all of the red wine
"I'm sorry!" I chided into the night
Lips and teeth biting, swallow, swallow
Feeding each other candy cane love

Rice and soy sauced marijuana
You think its cute how I love that ****
But I don't think you would let me lead
And I can't complain

Beat up wardrobe on the block
A wooden souvenir
If only we had more time, we say
I know I could be your little china doll

Everyone tries to persuade me to stay
But I just roll my eyes
I could lie on a mattress with no bed frame
With you
Any time of the week.

Interview me, lets play doctor
Teach me all the right ways
To win a job
And I hope my fragrance, stays on you
But you have to go
And so do I
But please, soak me up
Play with my china doll limbs

I can warm your heart.
g clair Sep 2013
Your memory serves you
but mine is so lame
it bothers you still
so please tell me again

Who stole your lunchbox
who smashed your new toy
who failed to hug you
when you were a boy
who broke your heart and
who chipped your front tooth
who sapped your energy
who took your youth
who who who who

and who didn't choose you for kickball that day
who left you stranded to walk all that way
who took your Christmas and
who stole your pride
who locked the door and
who left you outside in the rain

What is was the
the reason you
you must take the shame
tell it to get off your back
just the same
let out the anger
and cut loose the pain
grab onto LOVE, baby
Run from this city of blame!

who wasn't there when you needed him so
who made you clean up and shovel the snow
Who was a meany and
who was a grinch
who took a mile when you gave him an inch
who who who who

and who said "I Do"
with their ******* crossed
who dumped you for someone
way better but sauced
who bought you a burger
but wanted much more
who took your hopes
and your dreams to the floor

What is was the
the reason you
you must take the shame
tell it to get off your back
just the same
let out the anger
and cut loose the pain
grab onto LOVE, baby
Run from this city of blame!

who robbed your innocence
who stole your crown
promised the moon
and took off at sundown
the memories haunt us
though we may forgive
forgetting is hard
'cuz it is what it is
we'll do this together
when they're all around
chalk it all up
to the past
and then get outta town!

What is was the
the reason we
you must take the shame
tell it to get off our backs
just the same
let out the anger
and cut loose the pain
grab onto LOVE
and then run from this city of
blame
hold onto each other and
RUN from the city of blame
leave all our baggage
and run from this city of blame.
Mary Winslow Nov 2017
The bronze-scorched mud knobbed unhinged sculpture grows
Cinderella down to root knots, ground is grubbed

chapped hats of acorns hit porticoes before snows
honeybees cake their hives closed and wax hubbed

humiliation hardens as color dapples
swelling seed-commas split beneath the frost

piety’s ignored until next year’s apples
night sky is grape-leafed, blackberry sauced

ineffable brutes grow cold to the pinnacle
rhetorical dross groundswells legislations

the long-legged wind tramples our spectacle
rains mock each leaf into pickled munitions

rocks are nothing but hermitages sent by the moon
prescient hardness sets its chin to the ground

hankering for battle, totalitarianism thrives by noon
each soldered twig unloomed, unraveled, uncrowned

we have severed ties to reason’s substantial contents
in the muddle it’s not the empowerment you had

democracy dies bewildered blind with miscontents
unhinged, unconcerned to find the hanging chad

we’re scissored down to our primary chaos all
paralogisms who dwell in a dream that justifies our fall.
©marywinslow2017
Travis Green Aug 2022
Smooth-talking sauced-up prodigy
You struck me with your litness
Your flawless chocolate confidence
Red-hot polished machoness
Radiant unpersuadable treasure
You knock me sideways

You capture a rare intoxicating attraction
Astounding brown eyes
So deep-set and majestic
They mesmerize my inmost mind
Soft ardent lips, so flawless to marvel at
Kiss me potently, let me feel your colossal kinetic energy

Take me into your legendary mantuary
Enclasp me in your firmly fond arms
Let me feel your full-hearted sparkling hotness
Give ear to your remarkably royal breath
Lean closer into your mad keen refreshingness
Revel in your sheer bursting breeze

The luxuriously fragrant sweetness
That your existence breathes out to me
Has me wandering in a cosmic hypnotic sea of thoughts
Burning in your immersiveness
Consciousness-expanding images streaming
Through my inner world the more I absorb
Your erotically throbbing heartland
Travis Green Aug 2021
It’s strange at times
To think about me
Crushing on a super slick dude
Rhapsodizing about his
Sparkling onyx eyes
His ****-shaped lips
His dark and lovely beard
His get up such a level up

He gives me the sweetest tingles
When I see him standing near me
When he opens his mouth and speak
I freeze and make believe
He is kissing me
With his hands on my neck
His clean, tempting smell
Surrounding me
As I close my eyes
And fly high into endless sprightliness

I’m tremendously tripping
Over the way he carries himself
Securing the bag, flexing his swag
Making me feel so sauced
In his hypnotic hall of hotness
Brother Jimmy Dec 2015
Away he galloped
The gallant savant
Over hill and dale

The sun shone
On his anointed head
And flashed on his mail

With sword in hand
(The sword he'd got
From the Lady of the Lake)

He skewered through
(And sauced it too)
A tender, juicy steak
Apologies to my vegan brothers and sisters...
...but Worcester sauce is some good sh@t!!
Sautée some green veggies with a little Worcester, white pepper, and onion and your mouth will be happy.
I must be hungry.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Worcestershire_sauce
Travis Green Jan 2022
I love the way you are so automatically hypnotic and exotic
You are perpetually fresh as my breath
As the wondrous fragrant breeze
Your body is so super melodic
I can hear crazy electric beats surging through inner depths
Your captivatingness is so vivacious and contagious
I crave how you flaunt your flex
Top-notch, enthralling star

You rock me so effortlessly
I sway to your crunk cadence
I take in your grandness
Your matchless fabulousness
So addictively tasty as Lifesavers
Exquisitely fine like China
Like a glistening glass crystal ball
Your vibe hit hard in my stomach
Enthralled by your saucy rhymes
Bumpin’ to your funky hunkiness
Catching sensations that move me
Further into the wholeness of your world

You are my utterly potent plug
I love your thugness and ruggedness
The way you blaze my soul with your dope glow
Pour million-dollar dreams in my stream of consciousness
Make me see a world premiere of magicalness in the air
You come through my block with your hot aura
You remind me of a Mary J Blige classic
That boundlessly bops to this day

You talk to me through the first-rate poetry I compose about you
Through the creative tattoos etched on my flesh
I drink you down like a Hurricane Cocktail
You are so spectacularly swell as you slide my throat
Irreplaceable and embraceable
So magnetic and confident you are
You got me wildin’ out like I’m at a sold-out ¬Brandy concert
Burning hot sparks suffuse my body
Makes me become so lost in your charm
The way your crimson bandana hangs out of your pant pocket
Rocking your swagger like Scarface

You are the epitome of dreams that birth more brilliant dreams
You ecstacize my mind with your sharp and exalted intellect
You demonstrate your creativeness with your profound and lively art
Shimmering so immensely like a Lamborghini
Untamed and powerful as a tiger
So suave like you about to hit the strip
And show out tonight
You are my light
The way you make me glide in your flow
Makes the frequency of voice reach a crescendo

I wanna traverse in dreamlands with you
Experience your indigo soul
Make me grow like glowing green leaves
You get me into a joyful and adventurous mood
I beam like vividly white city lights
I feel so frenzied
Thinking of how you climb in my mind
And spread your sweetness all over me

You are hypnotizingly alluring as Sprite
I wanna catch a flight to your sight of paradise
Chill with you in a late-night private place
Enlighten my eyes with your deep love
Cuddle up to me, sweetly sing to me
Savor my sexiness, store it on your iPhone
Let my picture be your spectacular screensaver
Feel me in the fervent words you speak
Feel me in the river of your firmament
Inside the headquarters of your mansion
Forever sauced on each other’s enchantingness
Tommy Johnson Jun 2014
Go from who you are to who you want to be
Nothing is stopping you except for yourself

I see the workers in the back spitting in our food
Greaseballs
Brands are better than tattoos
Get over yourself

Sauced at sunrise
Waking up next to her brings a smile to my face, I feel the breeze
My heart picks up the pace when shes with me

Self-pity
Regret
Doubt
And unnecessary grief are incredibly unbecoming
Avoid the truck in your life

It's hard to be happy when nothing is good enough for you
Laugh at your life
It's just a series of never ending twist endings and what-the-**** moments
"Oh, the cleverness of me!"

I'm feeling saucy
There's no point, never will be
But why am I here?
OnwardFlame Mar 2015
Who knew you could be so stupid?
Who knew I could have wrapped myself into
A fantasy of never gonna happen.
I told myself in Chicago, in Chicago
Now I kick myself and wish I had been wiser.

Brown soy sauced rice
Bitter eyes
But everyone says, I put so much good going into the world
A witness to your life, I can't help but long for.

Everything costs me $15, barely got that $15 to spare
But I sit and eat lunch with the big dogs
They can eat their pricey ricotta and 7 dollar bagels
But I sip a cheap cappuccino
Everyone tells me--broke is a temporary state.

We gotta fill this table with art
Wait hold on, shut up, we gotta go through the list
You bring the forks, I'll bring the knives
I plan the biggest party this city has ever seen
While I wish I could shake some sense into you.
But I can't and don't even want you
Anymore.

If you can't soak up my past
If you can't kiss the wounds
I pour onto any canvas I can find
Don't ever bother, calling me.

Is it the blue eyes?
Or the way I despise and play tricks
On every man, I think will leave.
But I chug green tea,
Do myself a favor
A whirlwind until the windy city.

You will find him,
You need a powerhouse--like you
You need someone who sees your brilliance
Someone who is in awe of you
Your essence
Beautiful folks whisper and dance
Around me, telling me
Thank you for showing me, it ain't you.

But
We got some pretty, big things
I rolled and kissed and expressed
With my paint brush
Can't let anything slow me down.

I need to do about 500 things
Hours passing by so fast
Lets be on our way to okay
Flashes of moments that I thought meant so much
I thought you might be a mirage.

Maybe, maybe
You and all the men before you
Maybe right now
I need to see only mirages
Because the green and gold beaded shawl
Is within *me
Michelle M Jan 2018
Fate is a funny bird,
The way she breezes in,
like a tipsy traveler,
tinkering with the scenery,
bumping switches,
with a head toss and a laugh,

Then flitting off,
to the next hapless reality,
leaving not so much,
as a blueprint,
or a crudely sketched,
cocktail napkin,
in her wake.

And so began the story of us...

I had seen the inside of that bar,
but once in a decade,
it was the sort of solo-cup,
frat haven,
of the type I staunchly avoided,

But the city was a Sunday night,
ghost town,
and she snd I were diligent,
two chicks desperately ,
chasing the night,
we wandered onto Boston Street.

And you were there,
slinging drinks,
to a smattering of people,
peanuts,
A handful of bar snacks,
in semi formal wear.

And then there were three,
I'll never know,
if it was boredom,
or a  mutal wish
to be anywhere,
but our respective homes,
that kept it going,
or if  something,
in each of us,
recognized the other,
that night,

Gypsy dancing into the dawn,
sauced on your private recipe,
lemonade warlock potion,
my frienzied twirling stitching,
a spell in the darkness,
while my friend,
assured of her superiority,
tried to ****** you,
With that cocked-brow smirk,
you looked past,
and watched me.

Was I burning bright?
Or burning out?
A superstar in your midst,
or a supernova self-destructing?

I think we've yet to see it
the same way,
at the same time.
Is this our strength,
or our impending demise?
To this day I can't be sure.

And somwhere,
in a dank speakeasy,
our mistress fate,
is taking a long sip,
from a dry martini,
and throwing back her head,
with a throaty laugh.
I miss the place of the rising sun;
For nothing makes my hair stand here.
No one to sing me my very ‘oriki,’
Nor the slightest ‘se dada loji?’

I miss the place of the ‘gangan’ beats;
For no meals shakes my tongue here.
No one to make me ‘efo oni kpomo’ with ‘iru,’
Nor the slightest ‘garri’ of ‘ijebu.’

I miss the place of the ‘aso ofi;’
For no clothes touches my sight here.
No one to tap me that very ‘emu oguro,’
Nor the slightest good-sauced ‘eja odo.’

For if not for the clarion call,
Oh! let ‘egbe’ come take me home,
With the real speed of ‘monomono.’

Oluwatmilehin Adejumobi Alabi

— The End —