#33 – SILENCE

Silence slithers into the room sneakily

Finds its way to its prey and conquers them easily

The constriction from its coil continues until nothing is heard

And the venom from its fangs paralyzes all and any words

Before silence slithers slowly from the room.

# 32 – FORCED POETRY

I wont force myself to write another poem for you to deem it’s worth
I wont open any wounds that make me swoon, they fill my veins with hurt
I’ve tired my brain of computing the pain my heart feels written between the lines
And connecting the dots from the thoughts I’ve fought sometimes don’t always rhyme
But hell…
I’m a poet and I know some things I simply won’t say
Because to me, it just sounds better when I say it this way
I’ve had my heartbroken
I’ve carried burden’s token
Allowed myself to be trampled over
Minutes equalled years when I should’ve lived sober
I’ve been lied to
Done things I shouldn’t do
I’ve been cheated on
Lost battles I should’ve won
But that girl in that world, to move forward, I gotta leave behind
Gotta climb over every hurdle and knock down every closed door in my mind
Look beyond the reflection and take back what’s always been mine
I’m getting better, getting stronger, getting wiser with time
And there may be days when I can’t seem to find the words to say
It’s never really my plan to have things happen that way
But I won’t force another poem because forcing leads me back to what I know
I won’t force another poem because forcing doesn’t help me grow.

I wrote it tonight… there’s been a tangent of “damaged” posts lately… so I figured I would post it. I dunno. It may not be understood, it might be all too well understood. Who knows. Here goes.

DAMAGED

How you received me

Was deceiving

And I’m still needing

Completing

So complete me

COMPLETELY

Before it’s too late

And I can’t be saved

Weighed down from all the baggage

I’ve been damaged

I’ve been bandaged

And I’ve been packaged

Soon I can’t be salvaged 

Now this may lead to more than one part of this piece…I hope the message is clear. It’s technically not for anything other than myself. But it is a piece I wrote today and I will look for a breakdown Mr. 1%.  You don’t have to like it, you don’t have to hate it. You can comment if you like, it’s not really for you to understand. It’s for me, sometimes they work out that way.

# 29 – … (For Me… I Have To)

This beginning is the ending of the missing and the wishing

Hoping, praying that you’re staying but I’m exhausted from debating

The reaction of attachments and subtractions has me aching

The memories that stem from we, now swim in me I’m smothering

I’m suffering from hovering above this love and in between

My heart wont beat, my mind can’t think, my souls been breached that love’s impeached

I hope you see the return of me is all that I have chose to seek

It’s not erasing or replacing, but my sanity needs saving

From the struggle of this puzzle, to this love I have been slaving

All alone in this home, since you’ve been gone I’m on my own

And your cologne… leads to instant bad days and constant replays of sad songs

That keep me sinking with this thinking that this love will soon return

But it’s that fallacy allowing me those moments that I yearn

Can’t move forward from a past that is falling from my grasp

Can’t keep hoping for a present while I’m pleasant in my past

And I’m faking when I’m making the smile slide across my face

Because I’m stuck here in this rut of my continuous pained pace

Let me wake from this place that was safe in our history

Wave to days with no weights and no hate from old misery

It’s not forgetting or omitting, you’ll forever be within me

But the emotions I’ve been holding have been keeping me from living

It’s not a want, it is a must I must contain our sacred trust

Return it to the covert jar inside my heart I’ll never touch

And there you’ll stay locked in my safe… the memories will never fade

They’ll stay inside; from me they’ll hide, and never will replay

I’m asking that you’re happy with the message that I’m sending

Know this ending that I’m penning is the ending of the missing.

#27 – AVERAGE GIRL

(sings: Im not the average girl from your video/And I aint built like a supermodel/But, I learned to love myself unconditionally/Because I am a queen/Im not the average girl from your video/My worth is not determined by the price of my clothes/No matter what Im wearing I will always be…)

well… I’m not the average girl from the video/not/ tryna be in one either or hang out at the studio/though/it’s nice to be adored, you can’t afford my price/ I alone have more worth than what the FDIC can supply/I’m built on concrete ideas and TNT dreams that’ll blow your mind/Search the complexity of my being/The visual aid is misleading/Even if you were my thoughts/You’d never know what I was thinking/Try diving into the deepest and darkest of my mental corners/Delve into all of me and dare to find my 7 wonders/Unravel the secrets of my brain just to begin to see the puzzle/Reach the caverns of my soul that have yet to be discovered/Hold my heart in your hands and feel the ache of my heartbeat/The ripple of my emotions will lead to notions of knowing/My fantasies/Will leave you panting/Sweating/In my suana sweltering/Yet still you’re measuring/by the surface see/and the surface me is more deserving/of preserving than all the treasures of the world/Examine me and look deeper… I’m not the average girl.

ISLYmore 11/8/08

WRITER’S BLOCK

It’s like my lungs won’t expand and I need to breathe

Like… the words don’t form when I need to speak

Like… can’t find a pen and got barrels of ink

Like… no memories appearing and I need to think

Writer’s block…

It’s like wanting to keep living but having no heartbeat

Like… wanting to fill a hunger but there’s not food to eat

Like… needing to travel distances and having no feet

Like… trying to move mountains and being just a little too weak

Writer’s block…

It’s like trying to make a sentence and not thinking of any verbs

Like… screaming loud as you can and never being heard

Like… riding on a boogie-board and can’t catch the smallest surf

Like… having a million dollars but never knowing worth

Writer’s block…

It’s like trying to plant a seed and not finding any dirt

Like… begging to feel pain and not knowing what is hurt

Like… wanting to catch a man and being unable to flirt

Like… going for a touchdown and running the wrong way on the turf

I’m tryna write right with all my might…

But… That’s what writer’s block feels like.

EYEING SOMEONE ELSE

I see you checking me from across the room/

you may not have noticed/

but I been peeping you too/

hoping you would come over and poly’ with me/

but when you did I couldn’t even speak/

See…

The words tiptoed silently across my tongue/

and you couldn’t even hear them/

because they wouldn’t even come/

you couldn’t hear me when I said/

I know I’m not perfect/

but you could perfect my head/

I know…

Maybe you think my eyes are too tight/

or my skin ain’t that bright/

or maybe my breasts are too big/

and you don’t like the shape of my chin/

you might think my stomach’s not flat enough/

and my attitude is a little too rough/

but I could change all that for a chance at your love/

Well…

Maybe you think I don’t talk “that black”/

I don’t walk with that sway that often attracts/

I know you probably think my head wrap’s tied all wrong/

you probably wonder why I don’t keep my hair that long/

but does all that make you bypass me/

can’t you look past these little insecurities/

I mean…

I know you think my poetry’s too sappy/

you think my hair is coiled just a little too nappy/

but I already know I’m far from perfect/

so what exactly does that mean/

That I could never be suit to be someone’s queen/

but maybe/

I’m just letting my insecurities get the best of me/

so maybe you should stop and take just

ONE

MORE

GLANCE

Perchance you’ll see me for the first time/

you wont be so deaf/

wont be so blind/

but that’s another night/

when I finally feel right/

and I’m fine

BY

MY

SELF

But until I am/

I’ll always see you/

eyeing someone else.

# 24 – THAT KISS

My passiodometor swells

Every time I see this male

Inside I know we share the same dreams

Having mental conversations so we never ever speak

See we shared many moments like this

When he looks my way

Its as if our eyes kiss

That kiss

I miss

Like it

Exists

Like vision return to the blind’s eyesight

Like tiny shockwaves racing to my mind

Like millions of molecules combining at the same time

That kiss

I miss

Like it

Exists

Like the raindrops falling after a long summer drought

Like the final few seconds of the longest bout

Like the confirmation of a mind that’s been full of doubt

That kiss

I miss

Like it

Exists

Like the release of many years worth of yearning

Like the dismissal of class when the clock stops working

Like the escape of waters from the dam walls bursting

That kiss

I miss

Like it

Exists

That kiss.

#23 – THE CONVERSATION

Can I call you sometime?

Maybe we could discuss the metaphysical of us

And the lust we created in our past time

You know… the BC and the AD of our past lives

The one that intertwines you and I like a rope

One strand was you and in the same place was I… hope

You remember us like I do

Like how I am the beginning and you are the ending of the same line

Can I call you sometime?

Maybe we could debate

The ways, the how’s, and the where’s of the love we made

How our bodies combined and time/

Froze

Became nonexistent

The instant your fleshed touched mine

Can I call you sometime?

Maybe we could spend a moment to converse

If only I could speak the lines I have rehearsed

You know…

“I hate to like you but I love to want you”

“Hate to call you but I love to hear you”

“Hate to see you but I love to miss you”

“Can’t stand how you touch me but I love to feel you”

“Irritates me to think of you but I love to spend dreams with you”

Yea… those lines…

I’d say them to you if I could call you sometime.

FOUR  (For girls)

As the perspiration dropped

From the tip of your ‘locks

To the sole of your Reeboks

I slowly forgot

All about my journey home

Until I heard the trill of my phone

Outside of that there was just you and I alone

But that was mere confusion inside the emotional half of my dome

See you were more

Like a streetcar I desired for

Rocking my mental straight to the core

So I couldn’t decide between going home or…

All the other things I don’t know about you

Like how tall you are and what size shoe?

Or if you gotta kid… maybe even two?

And if there’s another lady you tryna pursue

Do you have your own car?

Do you live in a home not too far?

Maybe we could get a drink, maybe go to the bar?

Then sit at the park, on a cozy blanket, and wish upon a star?

But that’d be a date…?

And I’m not sure, so maybe we should wait?

To see if this is more than happenstance, could this really be fate?

Maybe, just maybe, you’re my Godsend mate?

But why rush it… there’s other things I need to say first.

Like what’s your occupation and how long have you worked?

And if you have a child, were you there for his/her birth?

And do you know the value of a real woman’s worth?

But as the time edged closer to five

Past me you walked right on by

I couldn’t be mad, couldn’t even question why

I just stood there dumbfounded, shook my head, and sighed

Because this was only what I thought

As the perspiration dropped

From the tip of your ‘locks

To the sole of your Reeboks