"tripin" poems
Girl, you're beautiful
can I can I call you ebony?
you're a black queen
I got to see.
I'm so into you, digging
your regal body
you have me tripin
on your curves simply.
I want to explore your mind
in ways no other can,
take your hand, I want to find
what pleases you and-
set sun flares in your eyes,
and pearls at your feet
your soul rise to sweet lines
with every heart beat.
Let be your black knight,
I'm down for you,
honest, true-queen of nights
everything you do-
I find intriguing, dreaming of your face
strange these times, your soul trace;
every part of me, see my passion
in moonlights of fluent attraction.
Like Cleopatra, seductive, you capture
my soul, succumb to your embrace;
like Nefertiti your beauty mesmerize
immortal, on hieroglyphic portals.
Shadows fall across your tresses
my Eve of Eden, subsequent
your movements leave me breathless
on soft summer evenings.
Now stand motionless, dream lover
take flight-love like no other
olive skin tone of a thousand seas,
and everything in between.
I can't stop thinking of you
rains of water drop blue
on your sable hue
makes me want more of you.
Last week when we met,
the style of your hair
made me stare, I swear
I could not get enough of you.
Everything about you is so sweet
your thighs, naval lay bare
I went inside your springs
until you trembled everywhere.
I held you high in ecstasy
there was storms of intensity
volcanic eruptions, hurricanes
spread through your extremities.
I love all the things you do,
my burning soul like an ember
floats towards you
queen of dark shades.
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 1:30 PM UTC
why do people live in the past? what's so good about the past? nostalgia ain't nothing but a element you cannot grasp. something you couldn't clasp
why you tripin? why you mad? who hurt you so bad? was it in the past?
I bet this is why you hate this much, because it couldn't outlast
sometimes you act like a bluff
trying to remember the thing you felt nostalgia for, the unconditional love
the unconditional trust, the unconditional what?
foreign to my vocabulary when all I do is build my walls up
not to hide, or isolated myself from the outside stuff
but just to keep myself safe when reality decides to catch up
Catch up to what? I've been at the same point for years on end repeating myself
depending on but "Him" but even he can't find a remedy book to help me cure myself
at times you get tired of asking, man I don't need your help
I'm lowkey dying bc of me who's gonna help me help myself?
i get caught up w/ the rich kids from the west side
redirect to the truth but even gps' can misguide
I'll say it again, wait no I can't because my brain's fried
tried to accumulate the words that's been said, access denied
but
I like staying in the past because it's a place where I knew simplicity could last
it's a place I could contrast with now, and look way back when
when I knew who I was, when I had real friends
when I knew my place between the complexity in the text
and when I wrote how I felt and I wasn't perplexed
when I loved myself and my individuality
I guess I got stolen by the media and the kidnapper is reality
- k.o.
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 8:34 AM UTC