I Want Mine Now

I wrote this poem in 2007, forgot all about it, and just found it randomly. (It happens. Often.) It's in complete first draft form, so it's not the best, but I wanted to share. It's about...holding back, from the perpective of the one who gets less...or something like that. Just read it (please).

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Also, I don't exactly remember writing this so I can't be sure, but I think the first 2 lines are paraphrased from the movie Love Jones (love that movie). Lemme know what you think!

I Want Mine Now
baby
you ain't gotta save none for later
i want mine now!
you don't have to put me on emotional rations
i just want you to fall into me until you reach
the deepest levels of satisfaction

when i reach out to rub your back
you don't have to recoil from my touch
grab that bottle of oil
and tell me to rub you down as much
as you please

baby
there's no need to hold back cute nicknames
and terms of endearment
no matter how much you tell me you love me
i won't get tired of hearing it
trust
and the lust in your eyes is always a good thing
and a kiss from your lips will always make my heart sing
and i always get butterflies when my cell phone rings
and i hear that ringtone i downloaded just for you

baby, i'm still all about you
but sometimes
i wish you got a little closer
to me

Fragile

I don't pretend that I can speak for all women, but I would imagine that a lot of them will identify with at least some part of this poem. I look forward to your comments on this one...

Fragile

be gentle...

that woman's more fragile than you know

she might walk like she's got a big ego

but sometimes that confidence is borrowed

it might not show but her feelings ebb and flow

and she's under the pressure of heavy cargo

including her fair share of sorrow

but she banishes her weaknesses far below

the surface

and keeps going

see that unshakable woman...

she's more sensitive than you think

her head and her heart aren't always in sync

even small matters can make that tall woman shrink

or push her beyond the brink

of what she can handle

but she pulls it together

that spitfire woman...

she's more weary that she seems

see, it's a tiresome thing to have her dreams

trampled before they can be redeemed

all the while swimming upstream

just to get to stability

look deeper

how hard do you look to try to see her?

how far do you go to try to reach her?

how tight do you squeeze to try to keep her?

that woman carries the burden of creation on her shoulders

sometimes you gotta offer to hold her

you can't afford to forget to console her

yeah, i know...she's strong and agile

but please understand

that woman is FRAGILE

This Heart's Terrain

This Heart's Terrain

pain is this heart's terrain



even as the pleasurable truth sustains me

across the planes of the mundane

the ache of rejection and fear of love feigned

is so deeply engrained

that i have to strain just to abstain

from draining his love of every drop

of sentiment it could potentially obtain



my heart has reason to sing love-filled refrains

with beautiful melodies that neither wax nor wane

because it knows nothing of love lived in vain

but still i remain chained in shackles of self-disdain

as i helplessly watch myself imagining the inhumane

where only fondness reigns



it might be a struggle just to maintain

but i refuse to falter in my fight to reclaim

the gains that i've already obtained



pain might be this heart's familiar terrain

but today i journey across a new plain

Change Happens (apparently)

So, I'm notorious for scribbling random thoughts in random notebooks, forgetting all about them, and rediscovering them way later. That's pretty much the story behind this poem. I know I wrote it 2 yrs ago, because I dated it...but I can't tell you the inspiration behind this one. I don't even remember writing it, but it's in my handwriting, so...(shrug). Let me know what you think.

Change Happens

change...

it's not always a good thing but it happens

to anything that grows

you can't stop it

you can only influence the direction that it goes

ask anyone who knows about civil rights

and the ongoing struggle that turned into a fight

that turned into a movement led by a people

who resisted oppression and demanded freedom

they demanded change

in the face of opposition that demanded more of the same

the people demanded change

and so change came

but change doesn't need the collective voice of a distressed population

change only needs time to affect the present situation

the only uncertainty is the extent of modification

that change brings when it comes

and change is never done

it will simply wax and wane

ebb and flow

shrink and grow

into something new

into something different than what we're used to

sometimes change is called a transition

in leadership change is called succession

a change to written words is called a revision

a turnover in sports indicates a change of possession

call it what you want

growing, learning, moving, aging, rearranging...

it's all changing

as long as time continues to pass

it's foolish to think anything will last

change happens

Complete but Unfinished

So, I jotted this tidbit down about a week ago. It doesn't really feel finished to me, but at the same time I don't know what else I have to say. I was told that these words can stand alone the way they are, so I let them be for now. What say you?

[untitled]

if you've seen him walk

you've seen the footsteps of God

he leaves light in his wake

blessings wherever he trods

filling his conversation

with tokens of wisdom

he's truth on two legs

a foreshadow of what's to come...

Flames Echoes & Kisses

Flames, Echoes & Kisses

flames of inspiration

leaping from within

soulful weeping that's akin

to sleeping in a den

of wellbeing

living in the present while seeing

echoes of the past

how these images last

and burn themselves onto my heart

from the start

we were already one

already connected

the right of fellowship respected

we rejected the thought

of any possibility of wrong

our love makes song

singing in sweet bliss

with melodies of tenderness

and truthfulness

our spirits kissed

and joined our souls together

forever

Wordless Wednesday (figuratively speaking, of course)

No Words

looking at me as if my mouth just broke
you already spoke
your piece
so now you wait for me
to speak mine
i'm trying to find
the right words to express
my distress
or happiness
or whatever it is that i'm feeling
but i can't concentrate if
you're gonna stare

so you just sit there
while my words flutter elsewhere

somewhere searching for themselves

knocking down emotions that have been

carefully placed on shelves

inside my mind's cage

i used to think i was brave

until now

i tried to begin

but i can only exhale

if words were arms

all they would do is flail about

because they're doing everything

but coming out

of my mouth

i'm struggling to verbalize
the flicker you see in my eyes
and the trembling in my thighs
trying to downsize the whys
so i can at least tell you what
but...
...nevermind

explanations are for the birds

sometimes there are no words