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.

Forecasts In Gray

Upon my door,
Comes a desperate knock.
Who is it? I ask,
Before I turn the lock.

Answers back a voice,
Full of urgency and fear,
Call 9-1-1,
A girl's been shot out here.

Neighborhood's now invaded,
By cops and camera crews,
So I know this story,
Will make the evening news.

The 11:00 news,
Now the story is told:
The shooter and victim,
Fourteen and sixteen years old.

They didn't know his motive,
And she was critical, yet stable,
And they'd give us more details,
Just as soon as they were able.

How can our children be caught up,
In things so sadistic,
Never heard any more details.
Chalk it up to statistics.

Flirtation III --Consequences

Hers

He always believes
Everything that I say,
So I knew
That it wouldn't be different today.

I told him I was late
Due to a childhood friend of mine,
That while she and I were catching up,
We just lost track of time.

He said that he had called me
And had gotten my voice mail,
I said that must have been the time
My friend borrowed my cell.

I felt real bad for lying,
But what was I supposed to say?
It ain't easy to walk into the house,
And say, 'I fucked someone else today.'

The next morning when he left for work,
He simply said, 'Goodbye.'
No kiss, no hug, no eye contact.
Did he know about my lie?

I fixed us a nice candlelit dinner.
He ate a ham sandwich in the den.
He said he didn't want anything I fixed,
Cause he didn't know where my hands had been."

I asked him what he meant by that,
And why he was being so cold,
He said that he'd never treated me,
Like anything less than gold.

He said that against his family's wishes,
He stood and made me his spouse,
And that he worked his ass off in overtime,
To keep us in this house.

He trusted me to go out with my friends,
To have a little fun,
And he figured I danced and flirted a little,
But he didn't think I'd screw anyone.

He asked if I remembered his cousin,
The one who just got out of jail,
"Well, guess where he's working now baby,
Yeah, that's right, the motel!"

"He called when he saw you get outta car,
With a dude that wasn't me.
Remember he was on the phone,
When he gave your dude the key?"

He said, "What hurt more than anything,
Was that when we stood eye to eye,
You told me not just one story,
But a second to cover the first lie!"

With that, he told me we were done,
And our relationship was through,
Cause he couldn't spend another day,
With someone who wasn't true.

A few weeks later we began to talk.
A month and a half, we reconciled,
Only to be hit with the realization,
That I'm carrying a child!

His

I got out of the car,
And walked into the house,
Into the furious fury,
Of my hurt, angry spouse.

All of my basketball trophies,
Were smashed up on the floor,
And my expensive new clothes,
Were flying out the front door.

The whole time she was yelling,
That I was out with some trick,
And how my family was less important
To me than my dick.

I told her she was wrong,
That I was out with my boys.
She said she wasn't stupid,
And to quit spoutin' that noise.

She said that in the past,
She had ignored all the signs,
That because she loved my black ass,
She pretended to be blind.

She said since I wasn't worried,
About my family's plight,
I could get the fuck out,
Cause they'd be alright.

That she'd been holding it down,
All the time I was playing,
And since game was what I wanted,
Wasn't no sense in me staying.

So, I pleaded my case,
And kept trying to deny,
That I did what was hurting her,
And making her cry.

But she wasn't trying to hear,
Anything that I said.
She said from that moment forward,
To her, I was dead.

Now, I'm back at my mama's,
Been here for a while.
Gotta wait another weekend,
To spend time with my child.

A once a week daddy,
Is what I'm reduced to.
She said since I was always out playing,
It's what he's been used to.

And while I hate to admit it,
I can't whine and complain,
Cause it was my indiscretion,
That brought me this pain.

And just when I thought,
I'd make it outta this mess,
I got a letter today,
About a paternity test.

So, now I sit here,
A broken man,
The cost I must bear,
For a one night stand.

Flirtation II--The Encounter

So now we're at the motel,
Bout to do the wrong thing,
No regard for our spouses,
Our vows, or our rings,

Just here for the appeal,
And the sexual attraction,
For one night of lust,
And we hope, satisfaction.

We both know it's wrong
For us to be here this way,
Our lovers gave us their trust,
And we've both gone astray.

At some point in time,
And only God knows when,
The two of us,
Must atone for this sin,

But right now, we're not thinking,
Cause we're on that hormonal tip,
And we're high off of our drugs of choice,
And the spirits we just sipped.

So now we're in bed,
Bumping and grinding like we're single.
Our passions ignite.
Our body fluids comingle.

While exchanging numbers back at the club parking lot
After one last stolen kiss,
I see you check your cell phone,
For the call that you just missed.

From the look that you just gave me,
As you dial a number on your cell,
I know the call is from your wife,
And I wonder what lie you'll tell.

As I walk away towards my own car,
I hear your convincing tone,
As you tell her the music was too loud,
And you didn't hear your phone.

Re-applying my lipstick,
And making sure my clothes are straight,
I plot, and then rehearse the lie,
I'm gonna tell my mate.

Flirtation

You know lover, for some time now,
I've been watching you across the room,
Digging the way that you lick your lips,
And your eyes melt the shadows and gloom.

Checkin the way that you carry yourself,
Struttin' like you know you da shit.
Now you're flashing me that sneaky smile,
Cause you know I'm feeling it.

So, you slide over to my table,
With that physique-- so big and strong,
And ask me to come dance with you,
Like you know this is my song.

So now we're on the dance floor,
And I don't want you to say a word,
Cause there's nothing you can say to me
That I ain't already heard.

Just kiss me like you're in love with me,
While we're dancing on the floor.
It don't really matter that you're not,
Just that it hints there may be more.

The strength of your hands is turning me on,
As they encircle my waist and hips.
I'm not even gonna mention the front of your pants,
Cause I'd have to stop kissing your lips.

Now we've already sorta crossed that line,
That leads to that midnight creep.
Our choices are go to a motel room,
Or go home to our spouses and sleep.

I know it was wrong to steal a kiss,
But come on now, let's keep it real.
What do people come to the club for?
They come cause they love the appeal...

....of Flirtation

Cravin' You - Rhythmic Rain

Baby,

From the very second I open my eyes,
I crave the taste of your lips, the feel of your arms around me,
Your presence, your essence, your being.

As my head hits my pillow, and my eyelids shut,
I crave the taste of your lips, the feel of your arms around me,
Your presence, your essence, your being.

Since the dawn of time, until time's great end,
You'll always be my soulmate, my lover, my friend.

No matter how many reincarnations, the distance, or space,
My love will find yours and reside in that place.

Cause from the day to the darkness, and every second of every minute,
I don't want to breathe a breath without you being in it.

Cause from the very second I open my eyes,
I crave the taste of your lips, the feel of your arms around me,
Your presence, your essence, your being.

And with all that I am,
I love you.

Your Love Has The Ability

Your love has the ability
To make me talk on and on, incessantly,
while saying absolutely nothing at all.

To blind me,
And yet, expand my field of vision.

To make my heart race and be still,
All at the same time.

Your love has the ability to drive me totally and completely insane,
Yet anchor me, and be my only hold on sanity.

And, to steer me left, when I want to go right,
But never, ever, steer me wrong.

Your love has the ability to weaken my heart, my soul, my mind, and my knees,
And remain my rock, my support, and my strength.

Your love has the ability to make me love you, cherish and adore you,
And I love you,
Because your love has these abilities."

The Cycles of Summer

Her name was Summer. She was gifted with the ability to create laughter, to radiate warmth, and to bring folks together. The sunshine was her happiness, and her heartbeat pumped party anthems harder than Naughty by Nature.

Year after year, she would fall for those boys who would take of their shirts to bask in her warmth. She tried desperately to seduce them with her warm gentle breezes, cooling licks from backyard hoses, and midnight displays of her moons and stars, but was always disappointed as they took her for granted, and paraded their other lovers before her.

As her sadness grew, the days began to shorten. The laughter of the people became less frequent, and Summer's warmth began to chill. In her wake, even the trees began to tremble in fear, losing their leaves in vivid shades of reds and golds. The once hot party anthems were now cool riffs from saxophones, trumpets, and piano keys.

Heartbroken and desolate, day after day, her life became colder than the snows of winter, her words no longer buzzed and chirped with life. Now, they just hung in the air in symmetrical, crystalline forms. There was even the occasional moment when her heart was so cold, that even her whispers would have passersby doubled over, guarding against their harshness.

One day, the red breast of a robin caught her eye, and its song caught her ear. Wanting to be alone, she tried to chase it away. She tried to bury it in a blizzard of harsh words, but hope springs eternal, and the robin survived.

Day after day, the robin sang to her its sweet melodies of April showers. Each note bursting into beautiful pastel pinks and blues. He blew her kisses scented with the sweet smell of jelly beans and gum drops, and tickled her face with the petals of Lily of the Valley.

Slowly, he melted her heart, and once again, her words spoke new life. Each new day brought her new joy, and once again, she radiated warmth, the sunshine was her happiness, and her heartbeat pumped party anthems.

She knew it was all just a vicious cycle. She would once again fall for the shirtless boys who basked in her warmth, but she would rise again. She always did. She was back to herself again. She was Summer.

On The Fragile Wings of Wish Angels

In the dark early morning,
In this cool winter air,
I lift up my eyes
And whisper a prayer.

I pray for this world,
The dawn of a new day,
A safe place for our children,
To live, grow, and play.

I pray for simplicity,
For calm, and for peace,
And an end to the war
Over in the mid-east.

I pray for positivity,
And productivity in my life,
And the courage and strength
To face any hardship or strife.

I pray to long and broad jump hurdles
That are placed in my path,
And I pray to please the Father,
So I don't incur His wrath.

On the fragile wings of wish angels,
Interwoven in feathers, and carried with love,
Into the fading morning moonbeams,
To the brightening heavens up above,

Thus my prayers are delivered
Into the Father's holy hands,
And my heart and soul rest easy,
Knowing I'll be in His plans.

On this cool, dark, winter morning
As my breath evaporates in the air,
On the fragile wings of wish angels,
I offer up my prayer.

Convo

A group of young brothas was talking about their women one day, you know, just talking shit as usual, when one of them said he needed to get home.



One of his boys said, "Oh yeah, that's right. I forgot your ass was henpecked. You better hurry up before she comes looking to whup that ass."



The rest of his boys laughed.



He started to just walk away and carry his knowledge with him, but he thought maybe if he schooled this misinformed and unenlightened bunch of brothas, he could make life easier for the poor sistas that were bound to end up with them, so he turned to them and said:



"Okay, let me break this down for you. Just as there is a difference between loving somebody and being in love with them, there is a difference between being henpecked, and being whipped.



Henpecked is that brotha who, when he opens his eyes in the morning, he's wrong. Wrong because he opened them too fast, opened them too slow, or just the fact that his ass even woke up to open them at all.



Henpecked is that brotha who's scared of his own damn shadow because his woman rides his fucking back so hard, that he's not sure if it's his shadow or hers.



Henpecked is when a brothas shit don't even stank because she is not going to put up with your "nasty, stankin' ass" up in her house.



And, henpecked is that brotha who won't admit to his boys that he is henpecked, mostly, because his ass has no boys, because she chased them all off the same day she cut off his balls, and put them in the pocket of the pants he can no longer wear, because she is in them.



And then, theres that brotha like me, who's whipped.



See, whipped is when you tell your woman you saw a position in the Kama Sutra, and she has her shit off before you even finish the sentence.



Whipped is the fact that my woman's kiss, her love, her touch, her sex, her spirit, is so fucking perfect, that if I ever woke up, and found her not breathing, my parents would have to raise our kids, because I would lay down, and die beside her.

Whipped because my woman puts that shit on me like that, causing me in return to say yes when she says can you be home at such and such a time, yes when she says can you do this for me, yes, I got the kids for the day, you take a break, yes, you can use the credit card.

Being whipped is a badge of honor, and I wear mine proudly.

Being henpecked, is what your mama has you, which is why you haven't found a woman "bad" enough to whip your dumb ass. Remember that!

Then, he proudly went home to get that ass "spanked."