Friends

I’m letting it go. We said we were friends, but
I’m confused. Maybe I’m slow but friends
don’t kiss and friends don’t fuck and
friends just doesn’t describe us.

You want to take trips and hold
conversations, but they are x rated,
so what’s that about? And we has a connection,
you admit that shit, so what conclusion should
I draw?

Once kissing was over, touching commenced,
and last I checked, I don’t touch my friends,
so we kiss and we touch and then one day we
fucked, then another day we fucked, and another
day we fucked. So now I’m stuck

because the friend I love is the man I’m involved with
but that involvement is only once sided,
I’m involved and he’s my friend, or I’m his friend
and he’s my man,
the same page got flipped, 2 chapters
forward, and we cant connect again.

I’m a woman, you’re a man, so I know you do
you but nigga, damn. We need to go back to
before that kiss, when I could tell you
intimate shit, and you wouldn’t make
so much of it, or interpret it as me wanting dick.

Before we touched when you used to talk, and
I used to listen, then the phone would die so the
phone got switched then I would talk and
you would listen, there was no jealousy,
just our friendship.

But maybe men and women cant be friends because
we’re emotional and
ya’ll wanna get it in,
so I read your desire and mistook it for love,
and you take my emotion as an opening up,
for fun,
and sex,
and an equal distribution of understanding.

But I understand me. I wanted it all, the lover
the friend, but you wanted the sex, the friend,
mistaking loving for sex,
while my sex you’re your loving.
I made my mistake. I take my
L. and I’m O-V-E……R it.

Before we fucked we had fun,
could do some dumb shit like watch a game or
see a show but after the sex, what , am I just a hoe?
You say you’ll show up,
and then change your mind when you find out
that ass is not on the line. So stay at home and
don’t call back, because when we were friends
you would never say that,

but what’s done is done
and we can never go back.

Shy

Giddy with stupidity, not normally, but
right now I’m feeling him more than he’s feeling me.
I’m stuck.
Not usually shy or nervous
around fly guys but this guy
has my fly ass shy, why?
Come a little closer, my word formation and
verb relation takes a back seat to babbling
and what to say, somehow, I cant imagine.
Standing stagnant, blank stares and low eyes,
I’m tryna manage
but managing manish thoughts has
got me in a trance,
mesmerized by eyes and smile, they
come at me deadly like Jews vs. Gentiles
or food vs. fat jowls

Silence is golden but right now
its worth less than two cents cuz
my mind cant process,
form no syntax except a lot of
what ifs, and a loss for words.
Im losing.
Time, sanity, and what little swag
I had left to get this guy to notice me.
So he kicks off conversation and
my brain drowning in anticipation
kicks rocks, stumbles, and dies a slow death
as I try to get up enough courage to ask a dumb question-
Stupid is as stupid does and
this stupid does feel stupid, so,
I’m slowly receding to the inner depths
of my not too deep soul,

Think, think….He’s cute as hell, fuck! Something else…
oohh look at his teeth, FUCK!
Participate, vocalize feelings, do something!
Say something! Nothing
at the verge of mouth purge
but words I dare not say.
Look up…Look away…
Look up…Look away-
I cant do this shit all day, I need to
grow balls, be brave,
act like he’s normal, just open mouth,
press play,
recite previously recorded game, your not
an amateur so take your place—
But that may be a little excessive for this
time and date, and as the clock ticks,
the bus rides,
all of the thoughts in my mind are
five seconds behind me
and cant catch up, so I turn away,
look out the window,
and will try to speak another day.

Wanted

I need a man.
No, I’m not in desperate need, no
classified ads for me, just
looking for my counter-piece, eventually.
Not looking for now or wanting the first man
that catches me eyeing him in those jeans, no,
see that was just for the sake of peeks, see
I need a man.

Im not one of those little skinny girls, so
I need Hercules to pick me up and please me-
not a little bitch, so I don’t want baby dick,
want a man to hold me down when my mouth gets flip
and when I need reality, he gets a grip, for me.

A man who sees me as I am, takes my flaws
and imperfections as impressions of perfection
and loves me silly for my every form of expression.
His genuine desire is my happiness and
together we experience bliss and my heart
tremors with a touch from his lips…

A man who knows where he plans to be, don’t
need to be perfect, but have a dream
and don’t step out just ask it of me,
and it will be done, reciprocity, he
gets dressed in the morning, all shaven and clean,
and he’ll make sure I’m straight
before he flees the scene, and
all day he has me having wet dreams…

Someone who wants to wrap his arms around me,
and whisper to me that I’m all he needs and he
ain’t no punk, he just opens up to me

And I open up for him with complete trust because
he completes me, and when he is hungry, he
feasts on me, and when he is hungry,
I’ll cook and clean and he always says baby,
you’re so good to me, so he knows I know he wont leave…

Where the fuck is he? All I find are
niggas that want to skeet and find
new ways to play in my sheets and
are too concerned with the shoes on their feet,
and all they can seem to do is repeat,
not think.

Not looking for commitment but contentment
and are content with the hit and quit,
can’t quite get a grip, and played so much
got a bump on his lip, go a little lower,
they all on his shit
and still has silly hoes on his dick-

No thanks, I’ll sit and wait for the
Man who opens the door, and the
Man who loves me more, and the
Man who takes me home to his fam, and the
Man who walks with me hand in hand, and the
Man who wakes me up to go to church, and the
Man who knows this woman’s worth, and the
Man who deserves my all, and the
Man who can catch me when I fall, and the
Man who has nothing to hide, and the
Man who wants me by his side, and the
Man who desires me as his wife, and the
Man I’ve been waiting for all my life.

This is the man I need, and for perfection
I wont hurry.

Lyric

I wrote this, just with pieces from songs meshed in =)
I don’t
want to love you
don’t want to need you.
I just want it to be over. Over.
Over you, over it, its overdone. I over thought, over analyzed,
you over lied and I over cried. Overwhelmed I almost died and
almost tried to take the blame, almost tried to heal your pain while
you used me, ran game and, my heart
hurt my eyes hurt my ears hurt my mind hurt and
you were ok.

It goes on, hear that song, and then
we’re doing it again-
Again
I was wrong and
again
you were gone and
again
I found numbers
again.
We keep doing it again, we swear it would end,
but here it goes,
and I pour my soul, we get mad,
come to blows, and you grab me, forget
about your hoes and
I forget my clothes, then on to the curl in my toes.
We forget we were throwed, we become engrossed,
and are one,
if just for a moment, if only for one night,
we turn from what was and settle for what is,

And if only for one night we are still friends,
and one night together we spend
and one night we are like we were before we made mistakes,
before we traded places, when I was you
and you me, when I stepped out,
decided to cheat, and you were home waiting up for me
and I was out reaching my peak,
but in my head, you were he,
and all I was looking for was release,
and caught up in pain, I needed heat,
and so I found it in his sheets and then I told you,
song repeats-

Everything has changed, will it always,
Always be this way, and I know it
That it’s all my fault,
One night of pleasure really
Cost me.

My morals my sanity my soul my friend my dream my future my love.
But I press rewind and remember it didn’t begin with just me-
you did her, her, her, her, her, her, her, and me.
Then her, her, her, her, and she, then back to me-
put
that
shit
on
repeat.
I was more than enough, you were just greedy, then when the tables turned,
you are mad at me, and I damn near begged you on my knees
and you dismissed it, let it be, but it’s not the same.

I just want it to be over, but here we go again,
because when you think about it you
know you need me, I never forgot
I need you, and we can’t be in the
same room,
without that connection, our bodies in tune
and we love the sex
and love the mood,
and there is no one who
does me like you do,
but if its all or nothing,
nothing is all because I
don’t want to love you if you can’t love me
don’t want to need you if you won’t speak
just want to leave you, heart let me free-

or put you out of my mind
unless you will be here forever,
but you will never let it go
and I will never forget but
I just want it to be
Over.

Reciprocity

I want you. Oh, you want me?
Baby, that’s what I mean, its
Reciprocity.

You know, where I feel you and then
you feel me, your hands roam my body and give
a little squeeze, and your eyes in mine make me
weak in the knees-
Yeah, its reciprocity.

I kiss you and then you kiss me, and then
I feel tongue and you feel the heat, and now
I’m real wet and your HE sees me,
Reciprocity.

So you turn on music, some R. Kelly and we
start the foreplay to that T-P3 and your
face gets closer to my lower V, and he
wants to taste it,
Reciprocity.

So then you go down and I grab the sheets and then
turn me around and continue to eat, and then
I turn over and want to feed,
you know why, its that
Reciprocity.

So now I lick you while you lick me,
numerically 69 but we add 2 or 3, and i
go real slow and then increase the speed,
I know you feel it, the
Reciprocity.

So I bend over and you meet me and then
slap my ass and now I cant breathe, and you’re
growing inside me and my big girl leaks,
yeah baby,
its Reciprocity.

So I scream loud and you
cover me and say baby too loud, and
I say please and you let my mouth go and
start to punish me,
Reciprocity.

You throw it forward while I
throw it back, and you
say you’re coming, and I say
no not yet, and I
feel him pulsing and I can’t hold back-

So,
now I’m tingling and so is HE and I’m
putting it on you, and you cant see, and your
knees are bending, you’re feeling me,
that’s how we do it,
Reciprocity.

I tell you no more and you
ignore me and I’m yelling wildly, you
increase the speed, and my
toes are curling and I
need release:
We come together-
Reciprocity

Lames

I’m a nerd. Or is it I’m a genius?
Thinking big dreams, or plotting out schemes, yes.
Ride the lines, read the words with my eyes,
watch them blur in my eyes
while the time goes by,
then subsides my desire to be one among them
the un-informed uneducated, un-reminded,
un-desirable life goes unrequited, like
two lovers lost, never, um, to find it…

I’m a beast, a tiger on the prowl,
lyrically deadly like a snakes in my mouth,
won’t deep throat, spit the hot shit out,
mind out the gutter, not my face down south.

Change the mark up like body armor in the ring,
pen on paper makes my brain do things
verbally vomit what is on my mind,
pink Pepto no, I’m not all-right,
a few more things to say to the blind,
follow the leader, cut down to the rind,
then push them off the cliff to see if they can fly
make sure that you watch it, and then wave good-bye,
‘cause they cant, and I knew it, now follow me
If your eyes are open, I’m hopin’ you can see
To get true freedom, its never free, so borrow
A charge card and do your thing.

There’s the splurge and the purge and the worlds spinning fast
And the wrath of the masses shows in sections and in classes,
And th governments illegal, and they send things to the people
Like stimulus and refunds when they stole it from us, legal.

There’s the rapists and the dateless and the ones who lose their faces
Trying to get into places they were never meant to be, and the losers and the shooters
And illegal drug users who practice self destruction cuz its easier to be,

There’s the parents and the careless and the little girl whose hairless
spreading wings like she’s an eagle, and she’s getting nowhere soon, because
they trap us and they wrap us and then send it to us after we had one too many babies,
and there are many mouths to feed,

See the world is in a cycle cant see it if you got eyeballs, need some common sense and
Schoolbooks if you wanna beat the game, be a nerd, or a genius, or a tiger, or a beast yes,
if your trying to survive a world that wasn’t meant to hold us.

Be yourself, learn some things, don’t follow the shiny things, don’t just listen,
listen deep, there’s a message underneath. The secret is to share it, let the younger ones inherit
something better for the future, so they don’t turn into losers

Get Stupid

Since when is stupidity the in thing,
maybe since the beginning when they ate the fruit
and then we started sinning
and all the cool kids are out back getting silly
and murders are occurring all over the Windy City

Easy is the road more traveled,
letting liars, whores, and killers walk down her path
and those who would think complexly get lost
in the gossip of the folks with no place to go--
No destination, when complexion gets comps over faces,
when tight eyes and long weaves takes precedence over education.

The road less traveled isn’t much better, they
put things in the way, make sure us blacks cant overtake them,
we are set up then we give up instead of press on,
press some dollars in our palm and we back down
to let the clowns with white faces run the town.

We need to take the craft back, use contacts to
stimulate the vision from our mind’s eye,
need lenses to figure how to get further than
the spaces that they give us, need to
change their view of us as bathing apes, and let
them slip on the peels while we get bananas,

Go bonkers for the for the talkers, take over
like mice on the cheese, infest them, take
all their cheddar and invest it, make
legal moves, they cant contest it.

Stop acting like fools, a broken record,
use the tools God has given, and count our blessings.
Fight for your brother and not against him,
I’m a stress it-We do more damage to the self
then they can ever.

You understand that the “man” can only do so much,
so they gave us tools to self-destruct, and we do.
Too easy to pull the trigger then to see the bigger picture,
Mad at the KKK because, and then we call
ourselves a nigger.
Just think.

Be Cool

I’m not cool and I don’t care
which makes me cooler than you fools
who drool and make pools for the
people who ruled the schools, and
the true thing is that because I am seen,
people know me, that makes me one
of those who gets used to prove that
the only the people who are cool
make their own rules,
sing their own tune, dance in a
room like no ones around, but they are
and now the rooms on charge,
like “Yahh”. Its crazy.

I could be lazy let nothing phase me
and they pay me.
I could be ugly with lots of money
now they love me.
I could be sickly and looking iffy
and they’d pick me.
Easy to be demeaning ‘cause
they’d never catch the meaning,
Too busy daydreaming of how cool
they could be-

Looking for fame through names
and not limited to labels, like
the branders of the cattle,
like Borden for the cheese.
Searching for validation like cheap parking
payments means you’re stuck on the inside,
tryin’ to get out using me.
If you knew me you’d see I’m an image in the desert,
a mirage in the heat, an oasis for your safety-
I’m asthmatic, spastic, can’t see without my glasses
and even with these faults my name makes me fantastic-

the common sense is confidence, if
your container contains this then
image doesn’t need maintenance, be
happy being who you view ‘cause your
eyes are all that matters, cant lend them out
or borrow others, fuck what theirs can see, or
can’t sea like an ocean wanting to be lessened
or a river to a stream,
just be bigger and flow, and move, and go and
know that nobody can do you like you, be cool.

After the Freeze

Why am I the one sad inside, tears streaming down my face
when his eyes are dry. He can’t even bring himself to even try
to fake an emotion, should change the motion of my thoughts,
crank the handle backwards, rewind time to erase my droplets,
rewind time to change my future, save my future from
feeling this present pain. Seems like destiny pre-set this
tragedy- no, not the end of us, but
the realization that the only one I can fully trust
is me.

Even then that varies, because I lied to myself when
I didn’t listen to my mind, ignored the voice that said wrong,
listened to the one that said fun, then fun turned to love,
but for him it was fuck, so in the end
its fuck me fuck love, vulgarities necessary. It should
have been me love me like him no sin, but being
human, I had to test the waters, go for a swim
I took some bait and got caught up, reeled in
and taken out of my element, all of it
foreseeable if I opened my eyes, didn’t want truth
only lies I told myself when I said to me
that I was more than my pussy, not the only one
with one so it cant be all…
I thought too deep, more womanly, forgetting he thinks
with phalluses

Trying not to turn bitter, but that feeling is like
telling water not to freeze outside when its winter,
want to stay warm inside but the surface
temperature’s at zero, sick
of getting plucked and played like guitar hero,
feel the changing in my thoughts, turning
a frown into a smile, but I know its ‘cause my
insides are cooling, my body temp is down. They
say that before you freeze you have feelings of bliss
and I am getting happy-
This must be it....

Forget the tears and the crying and the trying to provide the things he needs, when I know he wouldn’t do the same for me

Forget the sadness and the madness of wondering where my man is when the question is why did I even let him leave

Forget the waiting and the praying and the all-will-be-okay-ing when I know he’s somewhere laying and I’m finding faults with me

Forget the caring and the swearing and the up all night preparing for a battle I cant fight because the other party’s fleeing.

Forget you. Its easier than I thought-
Start with a count down to meltdown or freeze up, ‘cause I’m through

10 times you called and you said you were coming
9 times you never showed up and inside I was dying
8 times you made me pick up your tab
7 times you put me down to prove you’re a man
6 times I picked up your late phone calls
5 times I answered it was a bitch named Simone
4 times you walked out instead of facing the truth
3 times you came back with “I love you’s”
2 times describes your whole way of being
1 time I thought that the problem was me
0 times again will you make me cry

If I’m frozen, you can’t heat me, so don’t even try
If I’m frozen, I can’t feel me, easier to say goodbye

Untitled

Ropes turning too fast mean you
can't jump in without feeling its wrath,
the whip speeding past giving
the ladies whiplash as they
break their necks to bat their lashes,
cool em off,
cold water splashes and red cheeks
turn rosier from bashfulness as you witness
this, difference
between your queen and these
minions, showing too much skin cuz
its the in thing, but she remains
to be seen, standing out_
sides fully covered, waist fully laced
with taste and gives more of a distaste
for that waste, dirty rats
trying to eat your plate with
fat asses but hoods that cover their face.
At one time you wouldve hawked them,
swooped low and sunk your talons,
but the taste was rotten,
spit it out before you chewed, but she
was real food,filled your soul with
ideas you never knew, filled your body
with feelings you never knew,
making you new.
Appreciation for the refined,
clothed is the new naked, and with age 30s
the new 20 and your head accidentally
shakes as you observe the baby
birds chasing the worm, early birds
taking the worm ending up
with worms, squirming because they
laid in the grass and got snaked.
No more time for games, use the ladder
to climb up to turn the lights on your name,
not in search of fame, but respect
because the latter is for adults,
and tricks are for kids.

Dinner

I'll admit it, I'm on his nuts like a squirrel
saving up for winter,
ready for war, but the battle
is what I enter
slide hand down his wood, watching
out for the splinter, shattered the glass
on his eyes as I hit octaves so high
so he's blinded, trying
to find a tide to rise with as
his orbs line up with mine
circle on circle
tongue circle head circle
so where do we end? Back at
square one squared is still
one and as long as I have that spot...
That spot he hits again and I erupt
in volcanic sin
and ash as he grabs my ass and
clasps on tight for dear
life and as he pounds me. I
keep him grounded while his mind
is reaching higher heights and
he sees the northern lights
and wants to spark a Salem light;
No witch hunt cuz he’s found the
chick who put voodoo on him, took his
magic stick and did magic with it,
shooting hearts, stars and horseshoes
like the little leprechaun, I have is lucky
charms in the palm at the end of my arms,
what luck that this pot of gold falls on
the straight side of the rainbow.
Rich, thick, sticky enough to put on
pancakes but he licks the plate
without the cake but breaks the
cake off cuz I take the cake
The icing
the frosting with a cherry on top,
in the end leave him flossing, too sweet
don’t want teeth to rotten, so he watches what
he says, not too many sweets because
he knows I am watching what I eat,
what he eats, is me and I fatten him up,
give way to gluttonous desires, make a meal
out of me, catch of the day, throw it back
if it smells fishy, but a fresh catch is
all I can ever be, cut like sushi;
I can be
his meat,
steak and potatoes, you now how that goes,
fine dining at fine timing makes
fine live-ing and a dime on his arm
puts change in his pocket, changing
from a penny pincher to a big spender,
and all because
I let him eat dinner.

Untitled

Just let go
and it flows and it flows and it flows
low, pours out from the soul, slows down if its cold
clogged up, then it blows, and shows that the more you
hold the less you give, the more you need to feel complete,
a leaky faucet, dripping out what you can’t see,
a heart that beats
but veins that can’t bleed, wont bleed, can’t be she
who feels weak, who wont speak,
too silent in delivery
to mask my insecurities, but willingly
I let others overtake me

Remake me into who I was not before they
came upon me and placed on me their
ideas and ideals of the real and the cool,
and like a fool I traded my reality for their
gold, held on to their tolls and took what should
have been change, positivity
and made it a credit, score goes down because
I can’t pay the minimum, but I keep giving
them and sending them more than I can
afford, trying to be on one accord when they
are Hondas and I am a Benz-

Just cant blend in, and I try, and they hate,
but we claim to be straight,
fake friends who use and abuse and I get sucked in too, into the life
of world rules who view the visuals as reality
when the residual after taxes leaves the individual
after the glasses crack close eyes to watching the poor struggle
to come back after
a mall attack, spending stacks on Lacs
but their seed has no future
no money for books, but look cute tho,
new hair do, new tracks

Everyone wanting to rap to get on
to give back, but once their dreams
die, they resort to the sky, stay on cloud nine
to get up a little higher
stand a little taller but eyes cant open,
can't see that it is a grand scheme,
The man, he, does things to keep we
stranded, like Gilligan and the Island,
fully functional
but stagnant,
we demanding things like clothes and gold,
but what needs be told is those
dollars on dirt, on dimes add up in the end,
we could use it to send one of
our own to the top, blend in
with the man and have well right to take a stand

Be a Master
and demand what is rightfully ours, but now, they
watch us like You-
Tube and laugh at us as fools, and we think it is cool to
use culture as an excuse
for ignorance, use a few dollars to buy a little arrogance,
use credit to purchase
fragrances of the rich, when our rags are poor,
step out, through the door to the
truth, step back from self inflicted abuse and
use of what you don’t have
to make it look like you do.
Stack up, save up, buy up, cake up, so you can wake up
and not owe anyone a damn thing but you.

HipHop (He Is)

It begins with a boom, bang bang, tap
tap and it had me at hello, versatile
verses spit form the soul, free forming
a flow that changes up with the tempo.

Tap tap bang, internal metaphor leaves
minds connecting and disconnecting,
moving and reforming thoughts
like puzzle pieces, the display

is rugged, a little image altering to
appeal to the streets, the beats boom
boom with the beats of my heart. Hard,
can’t hardly contain phrases of adoration

for what I am and what I can’t be, making
me appreciate the feeling. Alone, but
surrounded by sensual pleasures of the
pulse on my skin, aurally bombarded

by similes like a moth to a flame, like
water to the dry, like words to the deaf,
like me to you. It makes no sense but
it makes cents, put your all out for little

income, unless you go mainstream, but
from that river flows change, dupli-city,
difference. The boom gets bigger, they
tap tap more, and my heart only feels

the bang. The metaphor becomes money,
sex, and weed, or about moving keys, not
to the tunes of songs in A minor so the
song cries for more, but I can’t see it

coming down your eyes, and as it grows
and becomes known, it loses its soul,
obsession for more hoes, and clothes,
and gold, and things, and bling and

a stronger desire to be seen and sets the
scene for the masses, but what about
the fans, the lyrically driven not the
bass boom motivated, the intent listeners

of the double entendre, not the ones who
fall in line with the times. New flavor
only goes so far, the bass only booms
so hard before the speaker blows,

your chain can only hang so low
before you trip and hit the floor
and who you are has become
someone that I don’t know.

The Coolest-Lupe Fiasco

I didnt write this out myself, snatched it offline but I diiiid make not of my FAVORITE line =) Some words are a tad bit off..


I love the lord
But sometimes it's like that I love me more
I love the peace (piece) and I love the war
I love the seas and I love the shore
No love for no beach, baby that's loyal
But she doesnt sea (see), therefore I spar
I trip, I fall, run up in raw
I love her with all my heart
Every vein every vessel every bullet lodged
With every flower that I ever took apart
She said
That she would give me greatness
Status
Placement above the others
My face would grace covers of the magazines of the hustlers
Paper
The likes of which that I have never seen
Her eyes glow green with the logo of our dreams
The purpose of our scene
An obscene obsession for the bling
She would be my queen, I could be her king
Together
She would make me cool
And we would both rule
Forever
And I would never feel pain
And never be without pleasure
Ever
Again
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~
And if the rain stops, and everything's dry
She would cry
Just so I could drink the tears from her eyes
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She'll teach me how to fly
Even cushion my fall
If my engines ever stall
And I plummet from the sky
But she would keep me high
And if I ever die, she would commission monuments
On her bosom, to him
Or maybe she'd retire as well
A match made in Heaven set the fires in Hell
And I'll be

The coolest nigga wha
[x8]

Lord please have sympathy
And forgive Michael (My Cool)Young History as

The coolest nigga wha
[x4]

And so began our reign (rain)
The trinity
Her-n-I-cane (hurricane)
No weatherman could ever stand when her and I came
Hella hard
Umbrella whatever put plywood over Pella pains
And pray to god that the floods subside
Cause you gon' need a sub 'till he does reply
And not one of Jared's
You think it's all arid
And everythings irey
Anoth' supply
Which means a anoth' july inside my endless summer
That was just the eye of the unger
Felix
Cause he is
The cleanest
Amongst a
Younger
Outstanding achievein up-n-comers
The ones that had dead beat daddys and
Well to do mommas
But not well enough to keep em from us
The ones that were
Fightin in class
Who might not pass
Rap record pressured the laugh in a life not fast
Can you feel it (can you feel it)
Is what I got asked
Do I love her (do I love her)
Said I don't know
Streets got my heart, Game got my soul
One times with sunshine will never hurt your soul
Quote
To a crying dishonored baby momma whose a momma to a daughter that I had fathered from afar
My new lady gave me a Mercedes and a necklace with a solid gold key
Like the starter of a car
The opener of a door
Or two pounds of raw
You gave me a baby, but what about lately
Then ha ha ha ha ha'd
Right up in her face g
There's more fish in the sea
I'm on my mission to be be

The coolest nigga wha

Lord please have sympathy,
And forgive My Cool Young History as

The coolest nigga wha

Come, these are the tales of The Cool
Guaranteed to make you go and fail from your school
And seek unholy grails like a fool
And hang with the players of the pool
Fast talkin of the hustle
No Heaven up above you
No Hell underneath you
And no one will recieve thee
So shed no tear
When we're not here
And keep your faith
As we chase

Rain

Drip…drip…drip dropping
down the walls of my
entrapment, a place supposed to be
where Dorothy longed for, no
place for the space inside my mind’s
eye cause I see the storm coming,
feel the moisture of the downpour
through the leak in the ceiling,
opening my eyes to the sky
to look to the future, but for now…
Now I see flying cows and
low riding clouds that want
A piece of me, tugging from
the west and east and the
line that divides the sides of my body
is weakening. Let go, why stitch
and sew this divided and conquered soul,
maybe I am reaping what I sow or
just taking this external beating while
the thing up in my chest internally
keeps beating and my cuts
keep bleeding, and my mind
is seething and the haters
keep scheming and the rain
keeps sheeting. Or maybe this
downpour is a blessing, packed with
little mini lessons to prevent me
from stressing and rely on
the message that hits me in
my face as the sky
sounds its breaks; a loud call
from on high as
I try to
touch the sky.

Educated

You have dark brown hair that is cornrowed to the tee, save some zig-zagged parts and overlapping weaves of dead fibers that make you look like a thug. Your eyes squint constantly at the light of day, because you are a creature of the dark, feel at home in the streets only by the dull, blinking glow of artificial city light where it is harder to be seen and easier to move. Your skin was beautiful, mocha caramel, now café con sprinkles of color and blotches of tribal art, unnatural images of percieved toughness, only the strong survive but the stupid die young, and the body grafitti looks like a bullseye for stray bullets to penetrate and destroy. Laced up wheat Timbs in the summer, confining hot feet of the cool, dark denim meant to cover your ass and chill your legs now cools your ass and warms your ankles, image more important than comfort in this day you wish was night.
Your language is beautiful and yours, and flows from that mocha mouth like an endless stream of street knowledge, this place where you are king of the corner, ruler of this intersection of lost souls and devoted dark angels. Your words entrap them, wise to the unknowing, and when you enter another domain, you speak the native tongue, blend in with the vernacular of the rulers of bigger grids, only your mocha skin makes you noticed. Or is it those zig-zagged weaves of dead fibers, cornrowed to the tee. Or is it the sprinkles of color and blotches of art on your mocha skin. Or should that even matter as long as you can act like them. But the grid is set up to never blend in.

Take Notes

Don't wish you could go back
in the past just change the future
if its worth it. The same problems,
same non solution so what
is the conclusion? A self centered
way of evolution that has
left men clueless as to what I
mean when I say all I need is a
call or stop bt just to say hi.
I don't mean I want to sit
all up under him,
keeping him from doing
whatever it is that men do,
sometimes that is cool but
I have a life too. And trust,
I have shit to do, but I
think about my boo and I hope
he would contemplate me too,
so the rational conlusion
would be to show me
in the form of a small gesture
like a text message. But I
have said this before...maybe
the brain of my man is
like a revolving door, on some
in and out,
but don't ask why I shout
the next time you do the
same thing all over again. Try
to internalize, take some time
to process before I lose it and
walk out to someone who ,
if they can't remember on their own,
at least takes notes.

Before the Freeze

We have been through a lot, me and you, and I keep thinking about where our friendship began, side one of those two faces that you have used to keep me still in one way or another, frozen in fear or burning up with the flames of desire, and the more I think the more I wish I saw that red mask of anger, face with frowns, deep creases in the corners of your eyes, the more I wish I saw past that cool, ultra smooth you, saw past that blue as a soft kindness, and recognized it as the ice cold shell of your being as who you are, but I had heard it all before, I mean what the others all said, and I hoped I could be the one to get through; wanted to use my love to put some warmth somewhere in you, but you put it in me, cold hearted being with every thrust, the chill of lust taking over the heat of love, snuffing out reality and experiencing euphoria before the freeze.

I want to
lay down with you
the melody of
our love, my love.
Plot it out while you put
it down, dynamic highs
and lows, the
vocal range of notes
we hit as you hit… that…falsetto I
hit… that…alto then
strum that...
string, pluck it, pull it, make it
vibrate. I want to add
that bass, backside boom
to the tune,
bang bang then…smooth.
Additive meter making good
beats better
music moves me,
you,
to our crescendo,
then the song croons as we
ride the rhythm til
if fades

Still

Touch me. Put your hands on me,
trace my body with your fingers, do
anything
to make me feel like I am
really here. Look into
my eyes, not through them,
through me. What we
did was wrong. Both of us.
Not just on me, not just on you,
on him, on her, or her, or her.
So if I can let go of me
seeing her,
arched back on all fours as you
bang-bang-banged her back out,
you should release your mind from
that one time
I went astray. That one time.
See, for you, it was one time, one times
that of the number of the divine, and even that
number could have been a lie, but still,
I tried to forget. And you hear
about my sole indiscretion and want
to clip my wings, toss
me from our heaven. Don’t touch you,
don’t look at you, I am wrong.
I know this, but still not as wrong as
when I opened the door and saw
that hoe
bent over
touching her toes as you
hit that slow-
grind that I hoped was reserved for one.
The sound that escaped her lips matched
mine;
hers of intense pleasure, mine of
agony-
hers a tingling causing her toes to
curl, mine,
an aching that caused my eyes
to blur as she turned
around and her face was a
younger version of my own.
Look at me. You will never see
me the same again?
Keep thinking about
another man’s hands
roaming my wonderland?
What about the time I came
to surprise and supply, had
full intention to lay out an appetizer
now
and give the main course
at home, but you were serving
up a meal of your own; she gladly
accepted your milkshake as her
dessert, slurping up the
last drop as I entered,
wiped her mouth
then I hit her.
Maybe I am the fool, but look at me.
Don’t say I should have left us instead
of hooking up, said something
instead of giving it up,
but you left me with no choice. The image you held
of me is now gone,
my angelic face blanketed
with the darkness of my found indiscretion,
but yours is the same. No shame,
no cares,
it is still the face of the man I love, who
tells me it is over because a person
told you partial truth. Her deception was
not needed, I know you, you would have beat
it then skeeted, then came home and
slept in the sheets
with me again.
And I STILL love you. Do what you will
or what you must, call up your sluts
for a quick nut. Just look at me. Put your
hands on me. Make me feel like I am really here.
Please.