Perpetual Crush

Memories of our childhood,

Of moments gone so fast,

Times, that as children,

We  thought would always last.

But, time forced us to grow,

To become women and men,

And now, I have to close my eyes,

To be that young girl again.

The girl who watched you pitching baseballs,

And knew the power of your arms,

The girl you taught to tongue kiss,

And mesmerized with your charms.

The girl who is now a woman,

Wishing I could go back in time,

And show you how I really felt,

And make you my reason and rhyme.

Still, everyday, I think of you,

And wonder what could've been,

Guess you'll always be my secret love,

And my always and forever friend.

Rhythmic Rain

Today, I took a walk in the rain.

Cooled off my body. Made me feel sane.

Left wet imprints upon my shirt of blue,

Gently reminding me of you.

Lightening flashed, causing my heart to race,

The way that it does when I see your face.

When the lightening flashed, the thunder rang,

And my heartbeat echoed, repeating your name.

The sweet, gentle breeze, wet yet warm,

A reflection of me, when I'm in your arms.

Soft, gentle teardrops from the heavens above,

Rhythmically raining the way that I love.

Wanting the rain to last a little bit longer,

And for the warm gentle breeze to hold me much stronger,

And though some might find the weather a pain,

You should come get lost in the rhythmic rain.

I'll be waiting.

Hoping For Just Beautiful

Our friendship has stood the test of time.

We were a melody before we knew there was rhyme.

As far back as I can remember things I used to do,

In some way or another, you were always there, too.

I remember the warmth of my body's first blush,

And a peck on the lips that became a lifelong crush,

And now that I'm old enough to know the feel of a man,

I know in my heart, you are part of God's plan.

They say that friends shouldn't cross that line,

That it destroys the friendship, breaking the ties that bind,

But, I don't want to hear that. I'm hoping for just beautiful.

Hoping our love will be the exception, and not the standing rule.

I'm praying that the fantasy doesn't lead my heart to break,

And that our love will be just beautiful, and not a beautiful mistake.



Word to My Young Brothers (You Lost Her Before You Even Had Her!)

You were smiling at her,
And she was smiling right back,
I could tell that she liked you,
That it wasn't an act,

But instead of walking over,
And breaking the ice,
And introducing yourself,
Proper and nice,

She got to know you,
Through the company you keep,
Which would be cool,
If they were respectful, or deep,

But, your boy launched into
Some reckless ass skit,
About how hoes just be flocking,
To ride on his dick.

Now, his dumb ass is the focus,
Of your desired's attention,
As he pops off about stuff,
That I'm too shamed to mention,

And you keep looking at her, smiling,
Hoping she thinks it's cool,
Though she's obviously annoyed,
By that arrogant fool,

And, that chance that you had,
When she first caught your eye?
Well, when your boy "spoke" for you,
You let that chance die.

So, I hope later on,
You'll reflect on this day,
And next time, you'll step up,
And say what you want to say.

As for your boy,
Til he's spoutin' shit that's relevant or deep,
Please avoid his ass,
Cause you're judged by the company you keep.

Days I Can't Have Known

My mind drifts back to days it can't have known. Days when the land was plenty, and there was nothing in the horizon but the horizon.

I see myself camouflaged in the red-orange-gold of the sunset, radiating warmth, and a sense of peace that shimmers like starlight on nighttime lakes.

In my cloak of Autumn, and shod with the wings of Mercury, I swiftly run and dance in Earth's golden joy, among the wild stallions of yesterday.

My heart thumps as wildly as the thundering of their hoof beats. I feel the warm, gentle air on my skin. Somewhere, I detect the aroma of corn cakes. I hear my own wild, free, and joyous laughter, and with the setting of the sun, we rest.

The next morning, I awake, and my mind drifts back to days it can't have known. Days when my name was something unpronounceable, yet synonymous with God's joy, and when there was nothing in the horizon, but the horizon.

Ode to Childhood

I was born on a tuffet crafted by Mother Goose,

My diet lovingly fed to me, as prescribed by Dr. Seuss.

I once flew with my brother, The Raven, in a century of yore,

But he perched above a door frame, stopped and stayed he evermore.

I've written volumes with the feather from Yankee Doodle's hat,

T'was my beauty that caused poor Casey to strike out while up at bat.

I spent nights in Arabia on flying carpets and desert sand,

I was baptized with Pixie dust by Tink and Peter Pan.

When that fire burned in Chicago, and needed to be quelled,

I fetched water in the Oaken Bucket I found down in the well.

I slid down rainbows with C.C., my next door playmate,

And loaned my bike to a white rabbit so he wouldn't be late.

I've criss-crossed centuries, eons, eras, space and time,

Resting only a moment to fashion this rhyme.

The world is so harsh and cruel now, and childhood passes so fast,

But bedtime stories with your children help make the memories last.



Which story are you reading with your children tonight?

Dropped Soap

This poem is the third installment in a series. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to post them all together. The Skills God Gave Me, If I Kill My Brother, and Dropped Soap, are all fictitious although inspired by real events. They follow a fictitious character from his days of simply dealing drugs, to the escalation of murder, and finally jail.

The harsh sound of metal,
As gates and bars clang shut,
Dudes calling me baby,
And looking at my butt.

Gotta play hard,
Though I'm scared as all hell.
Twenty to life,
Inside one of those cells.

That's how it felt
When I first got here,
As I fought down emotions,
And choked back tears.

Used to get letters,
And maybe a visit or two,
But the visits stopped long ago,
And the letters are few.

Cause family grows up, and moves on,
And just don't have the time
To be committed to a brother
Who committed a crime.

Heard my girl got some kids now
By some nigga off the block,
Remembering when I was on the outside,
And had all that shit on lock.

Probably better if they all forget me,
Means less people to answer to.
Ain't got to explain to nobody,
Or hide the shit that I been through.

Ain't gotta avoid the questions in their eyes,
Or, the ones just hanging in the air,
Wondering if I'm now some body's bitch,
And no longer a hustler or a player.

Wondering if my manhood's been taken,
If the user's now being used.
Don't wanna have to answer the question,
That, yeah, I have been abused.

See, cause some fights I win,
And some fights I lose,
And sometimes, I need protection,
Cigarettes, or shoes.

Family don't come around,
But still, I gotta survive,
So I do what I gotta do,
To keep my ass alive.

Everyday is a struggle,
A life or death situation,
Another new hassle,
Or new complication.

But, I've learned manhood's a perception,
And every body's perception ain't the same,
And depending on where you happen to be,
There are different rule to playing the game.

Twenty to life,
So, what does manhood mean to me?
That in order to save what life I got left,
I play the game accordingly.

You can judge me if you want to,
And I ain't asking to be forgiven,
Just understand when I say fuck you,
Cause I'm still here, and I got to keep living.