he teaches me well how to hate him, and loves me more for it
he teaches me well how to love him, and hates me more for it
--------------------------------------------
i can mindfuck you to satisfaction
with each flick of my tongue
using my metaphors as dreamy pillows
and my similes to keep you warm
--------------------------------------------
i gave you the name Morgan Michelle
because a piece of me died with you
before you could take one single breath

one hand a tight fist, the other 5 lil fingers spread open
as if holding on and letting go simultaneously
to the umbilical cord that binded us both no longer
--------------------------------------------
this is me...deal with it!
--------------------------------------------
my stomach bloats from all the bones i had to swallow
closets were overflowing
and the walls were beginning to talk back
---------------------------------------------
i see him
struggling
everyday
trying
to become the man
his father never was
trying
to become the man
his mother birthed him to be
but his instruction book disintegrated at the age of 15
the exact moment she took her last breath
he
running through the streets so fast
trying to go back to the moments before
before cancer no longer dined on her body
before the children said "where's mommy?"
his efforts proved futile
still
he has been searching for his best friend ever since
in every laugh
in every tear
in every memory burned into his cortex
like panoramic views
God can be cruel sometimes to a teenage boy.

Lion

i never thought you would show
nevermind stay
but you do
even when i don't
forgive me...please
for they know not what they do
these personalities split
the child,
needing mother
to keep the nightlight on
close creaking closet doors
check under beds for the boogie man i have become
the man,
needing a solid path
often walking all over you
showing the way to greener pastures
though i bring so much shit
the genius,
who struggles with normalcy
and can't quite figure out why 1+1 should only remain 2
the hustler,
needing his ride to die chick
to watch his back
when he doesn't even have his own
yet, you stay
being all these things and more
all awhile i walk through many doors
leaving you on the otherside standing in my rain
knocking gently
who gave you all those keys allowing these skeletons to stir?
i am not ready for reprieve
why are you so comfortable on this stage,
with no spotlight
except for the one i need beamed on me?
let me hide within the wings of you
you...
don't allow me to continue
rewrite these lines splitting my tongue,
injuring you
while the love notes i once wrote
get lodged between baby teeth
they can't stand the sweetness
decaying the truth i cannot speak
but don't stop searching for me within those reflective eyes
those eyes
its hard looking there sometimes
within the truth that freckles your irises
it must be what you hold onto
what you keep screaming at me with your precious puzzling prescence
though i only allow me to listen to your heartbroken smile
i want my kisses to prop up those sweet corners
run free through your forgiving lips to speak the truth of me
make me believe in me
i understand if can't take anymore
for i hang heavy on your wing torned shoulders
shake me off and back into your arms
i pray often in the name of ganja
you will not forsake me....

in progress

what lines, from your partner's piece, spoke to you the most?
Powder's lines"...we bravely injected chaos into our normally ordered lives
and with it
the prospect of all that is random
including love..."

pieces
puzzled
trying to fit securely next to the one missing
or is it lost?
forgotten?
swept in dusty corners
collecting cobwebs
waiting to spin a new story to capture
entwined with sticky heartstring wrappings
save this juicy morsel for another empty day
when hunger pains echo in the chambers
reverberating the walls
knowing you have just eaten
yet remain unsatisfied
peirce the succulence
allow the fangs to bite down slowly
into each level of injected chaos
urgency to burn
and release itself in twisted veins of no return
to find its way back home
wipe your mud ladden boots on the course matt
lying outside this creaking door of pandora's box
wipe again
since all that gritty dirt likes to cling to the undertones
feel it though
misshape the order
make it unrecognizable
so not to see it creeping up on you
like the paper lions roaring from these pens.....

piece took a turn, not quite sure if fits properly..pieces, puzzled lol

Satisfaction

grab a scrabble letter out of a bag. think of word that starts with that letter, and commit to it. write 25 lines with that word starting the sentence, you have 10 minutes. don't use the obvious use of the word. then pick 4 that speak to you the most, and use those 4 sentences in a piece. (20 minutes)

my letter: s
first word thought of: satisfaction

satisfaction moans lies across her lips as gentle as a midnight breeze
promising this time--difference--
newly repaired wings offer newly constructed paths
both still wet and fresh with anticipation
satisfaction tastes each morsel of thee
slowly
running its tongue
cautiously
along the jagged edges of contentment
daring nervous giggles to laugh authentically
with head thrown back into past
arms stretched wide around now
for if one satisfies the child inside the woman
she will always remain faithful to the lion
which dwells in the cavernous jungle
needing freedom from caged birds with no 1/2 beat tunes
sing girl
sing
yeah
satisfaction drips from atomic pens piercing holes through concrete writer's block
as night falls
and pillows call
ignoring the obvious
as amber-colored satisfaction crept over God's eyelids
no blinking this time

loaded roulette

he remains a loaded roulette
dancing with suicidal play
knows his role well with others
yet searches for forgotten lines
with her
her
zion woman in waiting
praying she does not lose her own salvation
trying to save apathy
welcomes the holywar
allowing his scriptures thrusted upon her
beckoning lips cry to be fed
while hands loop around full back arched
cavernous navels seeking echoes to capture
he keeps his secrets there
wrapped around cords rhythmically pulsating satisfaction
finds the point of entry with rim licking tongue
greedily drinking fertile nectar
life is here in this womb
not the kind one may think
but his seeds mingle with the God within
his place of rest since she first begat him in thought
he needs this heaven
yet gambles lustfully with familiar strangers
who desire not to hold his heart kindly
its better that way....
praying he will never throw snake eyes
or worse remain alone
at least in those few lingering chaotic moments
defending his honor
between sheets of divinity
he can burst through self-inflicted walls
slide his fingers in between cracking foundations
to bury the bloated feeling of death
his brittle wounds are invisible to the naked eye
but she sees him well
stuttering his eyelids like drifting butterflies
with no petals to rest upon
so she offers hers
jasmine infused vines
to wrap their healing sweetness around his cracking frame
binding his splitting atoms.....

working on this too...please feedback...does it flow well? make sense? blah blah blah