Lullaby: Under the Influence

i think i wrote this in 90 seconds. the red wine told me i could write a poem quickly and post it without editing it. if u don't like it, blame it on the alcohol. if you love it, share the link or drop me a comment or tweet me...or something.

lullaby

having marinated in his love

for decades

he's finally saturated my soul

and i feel him in my skin

he oozes out of me

as drowsiness seizes me

and i soak in pools of his essence

that color my dreams

with heart-scented waves

and thus

he rocks me to sleep

on a sea of serenity

Writer's Anthem

One day, I sat down with a notebook and ink pen on my lunch break, feeling like I needed to write something. But I didn't know where to start. I didn't have anything particular to say.

So I asked myself, "Why do you write at all?" This poem was my answer. I wonder if other writers will read this and find themselves in any of it. As always, I welcome your feedback!

Writer's Anthem (with this pen)

with this pen

I’m equipped to flip the script

I craft astute quips

and crack literary whips

to make words fall in line

with this pen

I can travel through time

and correct narcissistic histories

shining light on truths once enshrouded in mysteries

with this pen

I break rules and amend statutes

redistributing the loot of the educated few to the masses

with this pen

I appropriately label jackasses

and call them out on their classless pursuit

of plain old bullshit dressed in a fancy suit

with this pen

I settle disputes and increase the peace

pealing away conflict to expose the serenity underneath

with this pen

I declare war

as I journal I murder every force

that undermines every cause that I stand for

with this pen

I’m engaging the enemy

staging battles on pages

and channeling fits of rage

into powerful displays of the purest way

that I know how to fight

With this pen

I plan to discover the limits of my might

as I write percussive campaigns

against treasonous refrains

that try to claim victory

over my sanity

with this pen

and its unlimited supply of ink

every phrase that I think

brings me closer to the brink of solution

and becomes proof of my evolution

into my position as the divinely appointed opposition

against pointless, hurtful traditions

and maliciously imposed contradictions

that if left unchecked would stifle the ambitions

of the hearts of humanity,

yet

with this pen

I can’t forget to check my own vanity

I own all my flaws with honesty and attitude

reminding myself to consciously walk in gratitude

with this pen

I empty my head of thoughts broken

cloven and worn thin by daily carcinogens

fulfilling cycles where first I sin then am forgiven

With this pen

I write freely ‘til my soul lies barren

begging like blank pages to be filled time and again

I write

because with this pen

I win

Love Is Beauty (4/30)

Here's a fresh one. It's a love poem. (Yeah, I'm back on that...apparently.)

The first line comes from Whitney Houston's old song "All the Man That I Need," which was stuck in my head all morning. The rest is all mine.

Beautiful Love (4/30)

he fills me up.

heart's cup overflows

with peace

even as love grows

and I release myself

to surrender to his heat.

each time we meet

life's force is restored

rekindled by a passion

that cannot be ignored

but instead begs to be explored

begs to be discovered

begs to be voiced in conversation among lovers,

uncovered and revealed

it appeals to my finer sense.

it feels gooey and dense.

it coats my thoughts in layers

and presents itself as answer to my prayers.

love.

proactive and adaptive.

bending and transcending.

upending my preconceived notions.

trading in what i thought it oughtta be

and upgrading to what it's gotta be.

put simply: love is beauty.

Hiatus (3/30)

No, I'm not where I'm supposed to be, but I haven't given up either! 30 poems in 30 days...by any means! (Thanks for reading...hold me accountable!)

I started this poem a few weeks ago but just finished it. I gave it a title after writing only a few lines, which is very unusual for me. Of course, the poem morphed and kinda changed direction as I continued writing, but I think the title fits even better now...in a cryptic sorta way. And for the record, I love sprinkling my poems with crypticisms. As always, look forward to your thoughts and comments.

Hiatus (3/30)

rhyming words placed

in rhythmic cadences

and sentences

is the single way

she repents for the offence

of remaining silent

in the midst of such violent passions

and feelings

and urges

and surges

she words her apology with care

and sets her pathology to lay bare

there within her phrases

she makes rhetoric and record of all her ways

Float (1/30)

Today begins the 30 in 30 challenge...30 poems in as many days. No rules. Just words. I hope you stick with me along the journey. Here we go...

___FLOAT (1/30)___

wild is the wind that carries my wings
no wonder my soul sings
and echoes off the sand
no wonder i haven't found a place to land

I drift along blissful currents
as i fervently savor the whimsical waves
that seem to behave even as they disobey
they push me away yet they beg me to stay

and I can't seem to resist the urge to float
these urges might otherwise be caught in my throat
but instead I release them into the atmosphere
they fade away but I can always find them here

************

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Better Days

This is just a little something that was on my mind...based on a true story (like all poetry).

*Better Days*

weary and spent from such long days
in a haze from even longer nights
these times bring out the fight in me
these fights bring out the might in me
and it turns out i'm stronger than i thought
i've fought longer battles with myself
in the dreary trenches of my head
just trying to make it outta bed
so instead of
writing myself into woeful tales
of predetermined fails
i choose to sail
on the current of perserverance
my determination is my clearance
to optimism and the better times
that lie beyond what I can see
the truth is that better times dwell within me

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Raw and Untitled...(and Messy)

Alright...so this is a quick piece i just banged out on the keyboard in all of 5 minutes. It's pretty raw...I look forward to feedback. (Thanks @Whyguys for the extra push.)

[untitled (at least for now)]

unspoken words shouted
already dim light got outed
the air fell silent
as thoughts turned violent
but managed to stay hidden
good riddens
to the way sadness feels
it's concealed
deep down inside
glazed over with pride
and unexpressed sorrows
for a tomorrow already lost
and glossed over with frost
she turned cold
as she saw herself alone

Dawn of Inspiration

"Anoche me acosté con mis pensamientos. Ésta mañana me levanté con mis sentimientos." (Last night I lay down with my thoughts. This morning I woke up with my feelings.)

I tweeted this thought a few days ago. I have no idea why I wrote it in Spanish, but I'm glad I did. (Isn't Spanish a beautiful language?) I kept reading it over and over, feeling like there was more to be said. It grew into this little (English) poem.

Dawn of Inspiration

last night

i lay down under the weight of the day

and slept with my thoughts

reluctantly drifting into dreams of deficiency

lit by the flicker of dim resolution

at some point during our slumber

my pensive bedmate disrobed

stripping herself of the heavy burden

of solving riddles and fixing broken solutions

as i dreamed she took my hand

and walked me through a fantastic field of possibility

and her gait took on a more sentimental saunter

unbound by higher reasoning

she pursued higher ways of pleasing me

and this morning

i awoke with fresh feelings

instead those same tired thoughts

passion illuminated my bedroom

urgency pulled back the covers

coaxing me to open my eyes

with determination

and gaze intently upon

the dawn of inspiration

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).

...

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

Haiku: Getting into Position

There's no way around it...not if you actually want love.

my tender, worn heart
crawled out from its hiding place
and exposed itself

I Could (Never) Be That Girl

Let's keep it real for a moment...

Have you ever caught yourself looking at a young girl and her baby,
wondering where the father is? Judging her and her "mistakes"?
Praising yourself for not having ended up in her situation? I have.
But then I realized that I'm subject to the same feelings and
biological processes as those girls...and it could so easily be me.

I Could (Never) Be That Girl

that could easily be me
the girl with the good-looking baby
(with the good hair)
and the no-good baby daddy

the girl that got swept off her feet
in a wave of emotion
only to find herself caught up
in a rip current of commotion
and drama

the girl that would have to tell her mamma
that she's gonna give birth
to the seed
of a particular breed of male
that's never done a good deed
in his whole life

the girl whose whole life would change
(changing diapers)
the girl whose life perspective would never be the same
the girl who would be forced to choose a name
for the next generation of herself

the girl that would have to reevaluate
her idea of wealth
and fitness
and youth
and etiquette

that indefinite girl could so easily be me
could be any one of us
at any time
every time
we open our hearts
followed shortly by our legs
(which happens to be
the path to our womb)

but like you
i just assume

that it will never happen to me

A Haiku for Family...

Okay, I know...I'm still cheating. This haiku is even shorter than my last mini-poem. BUT (in my defense) I think these few words stand on their own. Of course, this blog is about what you think, so give me your feedback. Background: I wrote this little ditty a few years ago. I was at an open mic nite and they did an impromptu haiku contest, and the topic had to be family. (Yeah, I won.)

Love knows no limits

of shared bloodlines or surnames.

We are family.

Swallow Me Whole

Okay...I'm totally cheating. This is just a little, mini-poem to hold you over while I get my latest poem in blog-ready condition. But even though it's short, it's still one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy.

Swallow Me Whole

at night i lie in your cocoon

and breathe your love into me.

your heartbeat is the rhythm of my dreams

and my lips dance to the symphonies of your kiss.

i cry just to feel you wipe away the tears.

if you're not in my arms, you're too far away.

i love to lose myself in your embrace.

swallow me whole.

Nothing Inspires Like Inspiration

I love my Twitter family. I've been able to connect with some of the illest talents out there, especially writers and poets. Not only are they out their grinding to get their voices heard, but many of them have encouraged (and even challenged) me to push against my own writing limits and bring the use my words.

I connected with @Keziathepoet only a short while ago (just last week, if I'm not mistaken), but she's already helping me push toward new levels. She was on Twitter last nite, about to explode, looking for someone to freestyle with. I took the bait. We went back and forth for a while, and here's what we created...(my words are in bold).

it's time for rhythm and rhymes

the rivers of lines flowing through this mental of mine

in need of cerebral release to cause the madness to cease

peace is a must let me grab a pen because it's poetry or bust

i fight for the right to write, moving my pen through all hours of the night

what a plight this gift of words turn bringing thoughts to life with the verbs

action words for what i feel, words to action to turn feelings into real

reveal the innermost unspoken thoughts inhibitions ignored pop open faults

just to let go, let words flow, let emotions show, let momentum grow

not to mention that you just might blow adjust the gears just so to get that just right flow

words flow to stanza and stanza to verse, verse leads to the mic unfiltered and unrehearsed

verse after verse gets sprinkled on their minds Ms Who brought the new and put a wrinkle in their time

creased their foreheads with her very essence, gave them sight with her luminesence

insight from her life lessons that stressin was too depressin and just wakin up was a blessin

she was livin in heaven while she walked the earth, blessed and highly favored since birth

but life can hurt..the work can be a bit much can leave the spirit fragile to the touch

a wounded heart is a heavy burden to carry, and the state of merriment tends to vary

and "friends" are scary..family can be worse but we have a Savior who carries cares and wrote His love in a verse

He lived that love and died to redeem, He rose because even over death He offered us victory

He's stricken me with His grace and mercy everlasting I'm forever dwelling in the shadow that the cross is casting