Peace of Me

Number 2

iWrite — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 04:26:06 +0000

He called me bitter.
I said I’m not bitter
my heart is laid on a foundation
of shattered glass of your broken promises.
You promised this time would be better
gave me a million reasons why choosing you
would be the best decision of my life
It was the worst.
So I did what I knew to do
I blasted you
On Twitter and Facebook
and if I remembered my MySpace password
I’d probably put in big bold glittery fonts how much I hate you there too
I wasted entirely too much of my time
I’m sure there is a line of chicks waiting to get their hearts broken too
I wish I could gather the women scorned
to write poems of petition
to get you and all the other bitch niggas
excommunicated from the world of dating
But instead
I’ll write this poem
And hopefully one of the lovely ladies
waiting in line for a world of misery
and brokenheartedness
will read between these lines and realize
that I’m talking to you.
Maybe I can save one of them.
Maybe even two.
or three
for the life of me
I can’t figure out why
we loan our hearts to the same man
who’s trust was repossessed by the last chick
This can’t be life.
I carry my heart from doorstep to doorstep
forgetting to mark the package with FRAGILE
I forgot to ask you to handle with care
So you took me there
I guess I am bitter.
Cause those shards of your promises
hurt like the pain of 1000 kisses
from chapped lips.
I’d rather stand on the edge of loneliness
than fall from peering into the never ending cycle of your pain.
He said I’m bitter.
I agreed
and asked him to give me one reason why I shouldn’t be.

Number 1

iWrite — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 21:00:28 +0000

I woke up and wiped the love from my eyes
S**t was blinding
I kept missing the opportunity and the dreams I kept finding
Were brittle
Like they waited there for me to write them
But love had me blinded
Love had me wide open like the doors he held open
Like his nostrils when I first walked by
Wide open like my legs on day three
It blinded me
I’m inclined to say that it was all his fault
But the blind leading the blind makes it almost impossible to walk
S**t was crazy
I was surrounded by everything I ever wanted
Flaunted his name around my friends like he was kin
Danced with his mixed signals till my heart grew thin
He rested his dreams on my breasts at night
Picked them up in the morning cause he knew I couldnt bear the burden
I learned him
I knew him better than I knew myself
Till I lost sight of the two
I was you
Our hands wrote the same poems
We smiled in the same tune
He said I love you
But that meant youre unusual
I was an unfamiliar lyric set to an exotic beat
He felt me
And like his favorite beat
He nodded his head to me
His lyric tickled my fancy
He was everything
I made him my world when he only needed a piece of me
A peace of me
And when we made love it never felt like the last time
In that moment your rhyme became my reason
You said you’d never force me to leave your side
You kissed me with your heart and my lips still tingle from your lies.

The Other Woman

iWrite — Tue, 03 May 2011 03:44:51 +0000

Last night I never made it home
I cried for hours
On the phone
With my best friend
Telling her how much I hated yet still loved him
She said
Ole boy don’t love you, slim
He’s just using what he can
To get what he can’t get with her
So I
Wipe the tears
Put the key in the ignition
Petal to the floor
Gear in drive
And stared back at his front door
If only I could get him to love me
I leave messages with words like baby and boo
I’ll send texts that simply say I love you
Because that’s just what I do
I’ll spread my hips
And allow him to take
What he wishes
In hopes that I’ve convinced him to
Give up what he’s known for so long
For me
And then that voice in the back of my mind
Taps me on my shoulder and
Whispers in my ear and says
Honey, you’re just the other woman
Sit back
Shut up
And play your role
Give him what he wants
Get yours
And get up and roll
This is not the place to find love
I drive off wondering what tomorrow will bring
The same thing
Only this time I’ll hope that it’s different
I’ll hope for soft touches, nice words
And sweet kisses
For 40 minutes
I’ll play wife instead of mistress
We won’t have to send texts
I’ll talk and he’ll listen
Until we both hear that car engine
In the distance
Then
I hide in the closet
Creep down the back stairs
Out the front door
Over the lawn and
Finally,
I’m safe in my car
A plexiglass asylum
It is here that bang on the steering wheel
Scream at God and tell him to fix my problems
It is here that I remember…
We forgot to use a condom
So WE hide in the closet
WE creep down the back stairs
Out the front door
Over the lawn and
Finally,
We can’t hide it no more
Sin stands in the doorway
tapping her stiletto against the floor
twiddling her freshly painted nails
a smile on lips threatening to tell the tales of our endeavors
she is pregnant with infidelity
and in nine months, she will birth our truths
They will cry out from wombs
Stained with lies that drip from our passion soaked lips
Bearing a heart that was ripped from a child-less wife
A life that’s only proof that your vows meant absolutely nothing
I now pronounce you mother and father
You may kiss the mistress

iWrite.

Check out www.diVERSEcityblog.com for the audio.

Intimidated (Revamped)

iWrite — Thu, 27 Jan 2011 12:49:40 +0000

So many of you have either heard me perform “Intimidated” or have read it somewhere on a social networking site. It is one of my favorite poems and it holds a special place in my heart, so I re-wrote it – adding just a little extra umph! to it.

Intimidated

You know,
I think that
You
Are
Intimidated
By
Me
I think the ride of my breast and the bulge in my belly
Make you scared to approach me
Or maybe
It’s the spread of my hips
Or the thickness of my lips
Or maybe you fear being swallowed by my kiss
Because these here lips
Are lethal weapons
Used to fire ammunition called intellect
I expect
Nothing less than respect
So maybe the scarcity
Of a woman like me
Leaves you wrestling with your psyche
Trying to force your way past social norms of society
To admit that you love me
…and my fat legs.
Your validation doesn’t complete me
but maybe for your own security
You can tell me how bad I really am.
And yes, I got a little extra meat on these thighs
And maybe my silhouette is not so pleasing to the eye
I may not turn heads when I walk down the street
With my three inch stilettos on these size ten feet
Yes, I do worry about fitting into the airplane seat
And no, I do not shop in stores that have petite
Excuse me but, I need a size 20
I think
That
You
Are
Intimidated
By me
You’re scared that you will be consumed by
This 5’6” woman and her thunder thighs
Secretly
You admire me
You wish that you had the courage to remove the standard
Walk away being you and not some false depiction
But if I could make a slight prediction
I would say that
99.9% of women in the media
On TV, Movies, Videos
The ones standing next to the rapper being called “hoes”
Even they are not your “average girl”
So instead of conforming to an imperfection
I embrace my collection
Of beautiful flaws and untamed pretty
Cause if he doesn’t see my beauty
His vision is far less than 20/20
Because he’s GOT to be scared of a queen so sleek
Cause even my flat booty is unique
Every dimple, every mark,
every scar, every spot that’s dark
every curve that defines my womanhood
So if you think your lack of attention affects me
I think you have me severely misunderstood
Because on a throne
Somewhere waiting to give me a home
Is my King
He’s
Not
Intimidated
By me
In fact he rubs my belly
And embraces my ugly pretty
He wears my heart on his sleeve right next to his own
it’s diamond studded with a purple stone
cause he knows it my favorite color
He sees past the flaws
and peers deeply into my soul
Where he digs up blackened insecurities
and plants seeds of gold
Golden dreams of virtue,
golden dreams of peace and
Golden dreams of love.
To him, I’m never a threat
Yet, he sees my strength as a women
and allows me to shine
Bright like the stars that he placed in the sky for me.
So the next time you see a women of my stature walk down your street
Remember she’s worth more than a ruby
She’s a gem, embedded with God’s love
and placed beneath a light that reveals every facet of her beauty.
So I understand if you can’t comprehend such a thing
God has never made a mistake, especially not in me.

iWrite.

Poet

iWrite — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 00:22:17 +0000

I am a poet
I write poems with no ending
because I can’t get those lines
to speak dearly enough to me
to punctuate my thoughts.
I am a poet
I don’t rhyme and
I usually don’t have a flow
I have notebooks with
Pages stained with tears
and scribbled handwriting
because at that moment
my hand no longer wrote
my heart spoke.
I am a poet
I go days without writing
and envy those who
stand behind mics with poems
and not afraid to perform.
I am a poet
I mock the rhythm of the greats
and struggle with individualism
I wear my hair in a bush
huge bronze earrings and
brass bangles on my wrist
because that’s what we look like.
I swear, I am a poet
I find ways to shovel out
the deepest part of your brain
and play with your thoughts
and most of the time
even I don’t know what it means
but, I am a poet
because my voice is mine
and without it
I remain the muted revolutionary
who is imprisoned by
the lies that her mind
uses to confine her creativity.
I am silenced by brokenhearts,
discouragement and insecurity
I, too, am a poet.

Murder Case

iWrite — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 18:57:46 +0000

Last night I had a dream that I was on trial for murder
Can’t remember my motive but I had plenty of cause
Cause my people laid dead at my feet with their dreams blown up by social grenades
It was painful
The judge called me to the front to give me my sentence
But I had already placed a period on the end of my bullet
When I pulled the trigger on every nigga that had ever crossed
The T or blacked the eye of my daughter
As I stood at the judicial altar praying for forgiveness
Or a simple eye witness who could vouch for my sins
I was speechless
Just like my brothers who are quieted by silencers on pistols at the hands of their brethren
Just like my sister whose voice is trimmed by the beauty of her limbs
Her legs mirror the length of her thoughts
Her hips are the width of her ideas
But she continues to be praised for the size of her booty
So I put death to videos, America’s Next Top Model and TV screens
Talk show hosts, DJs and magazines
Last night I had a dream that I was on trial for murder
Can’t remember my motive but I had plenty of cause
Cause the extent of their religion is some nigga with a scripture on his chest
And the best they can do is pray when a Tsunami hits
Or the World Trade Center’s fall
Or Haiti cries out from beneath crumbled remains and kisses America with its impoverished lips
It had been sick
Disease stains the cheeks of motherless children and hangs from the lifeless eyelids of their people
So I’m filled with murderous rage cause the only thing that separates us from them is the seas
Yet we seize prayer in our own backyards
Watching our brothers, cousins, sisters, mothers, aunts and uncles die
Where are our leaders
So I popped three caps in the domes of preachers
That instead of teaching our people, they call them heathens
I slit the wrists of church mothers that turn their noses up at jeans and sneakers
Cause it’s the patter of their souls hitting the floor that keeps me armed and ready for danger
Cocked back and loaded ready for war
Dropping the enemy one word
I mean
One
Soul
At a
Time
Last night I had a dream that I was on trial for murder
I can’t remember my motive but I had plenty of cause
Cause the size of their rims exceeds the number of children on the block that can read
The judge told me to speak my peace
But there are not enough words in the English language
To fill the mouths of hungry inner city souls
So I stand for my people, blind folded by insecurities
Mouth taped by stereotypes and types of misconceptions
Accepting beautiful deceptions and pretty lies
So that they never have to see
I stared at the jury with blood dripping from my eyes
And said as loudly and powerful as I could be
“I am GUILTY!”
Last night I had a dream that I was on trial for murder
I cant remember my motive but I had plenty of cause
Cause I’d rather be behind bars for my people to be free
Than free with my people’s minds under lock and key
So I am guilty
Remove the chains from their dreams
I am guilty
Liberate their ideas; teach them the true meaning of success
Not just the American dream
Last night I had a dream that I was on trial for murder

Struggle

iWrite — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 16:06:41 +0000

My struggle does not come from race
My struggle has nothing to do with the color of my face
But my struggle comes from within
I have made my struggle the lightness or darkness of my skin
When my fathers fought so hard for me not to struggle at all
I had tricked myself into believe that I was still running
Even after I dropped the ball
I fight constantly for justice and injustice in this world
But it’s MY daddy who rapes his own little girl
My brothers who stand on the street corners hustlin
My mothers who do nothing but stare in disgust and
Brag about their grandsons
My struggle is not “the white man’s” fault
My struggle is those Bentley’s and Hummer’s we exalt
The language I have taught
The people I have fought
The hair straightener and the hot comb I just bought
Subconsciously I make the decision
To undergo a physical revision
To further the separation and division
My struggle does not come from a lack of opportunity
But from a severe case of voters apathy
I want change but I don’t want to be a part of it
I want change but I can’t seem to depart from it
The cradles with the young hands rockin’ it
The blunt that has the young man sparkin’ it
My struggle is not when they say that word
My struggle is that we’ve made the word nigger
Bigger than any term of endearment
Towering over favored phrases like “I love you”
“You can do it,” “You’re beautiful”
Bringing shame to Miss Parks and Dr. King
Words that confirm that we will never be what they dreamt us to be
My struggle is not that I am African American
But rather, I am not what I could’ve been.

No Love

iWrite — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 16:52:09 +0000

At night I pray for butterfly kisses in my dreams
But instead I’m reminded of the horror scenes
That cloud my existence
A consistent flow of negative evidence
Of why my love is devils advocate instead of heaven sent
And even as I write this at 3 in the morning
I’m mourning the lost of another soul freed from the grips of my affection
And I’ve learned my lesson
There are too many blessings to cry about one curse

Happily Ever After

iWrite — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 03:59:30 +0000

I hear that Happily Ever After does exist
It is a long sweet kiss in the open moonlight
Passion raging to the sound of gentle heartbeats

I hear it has eyes like the night’s ocean
Deep, dark and mysterious
It exists somewhere amongst its enemies

Heartbroken souls lay scattered at its feet
Reaching out for life but it only chooses a few
I hear that you never have a choice with Happily Ever After

I heard that you walk aimlessly searching for a missing piece of you
Until your feet are blistered from life’s cold hard concrete
I hear that momma can’t fix this one for you

She sits back and watches her lonely daughter
Wade in the shallow end of love wishing for high tide to wisk her away
And it doesn’t. It lingers near her toes teasing her with its silky graze.

Its amazing how quickly our hearts can be deceived.
I hear that you musn’t keep ur standards to high
For fear that Happily Ever After will surely pass your eager heart by

I hear that Happily Ever After does exist
In the minds of tainted little girls adorned with the dreams of fairytales
“Prince Charming” dances around their heads and toys with their minds

And like Santa Clause to a 12 year old on Christmas day
What we’ve been taught and told
Has suddenly transformed into the reality before us

And Happily Ever After disappears amongst our dreams
Destined to lay dormant amongst our love notes and unfinished poetry
It does not exist

It sits where unicorns and leprechauns roam freely
Where fairies rule and cupid shoots love in the air and it reigns supreme
I heard that Happily Ever After does exist

But I’ve had way too many Sadly After Alls that I still can’t seem to fade it.

Insanity

iWrite — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 06:26:05 +0000

Sometimes, I think he’s loved me crazy
He’s literally put his lips to my soul and sucked the life out of me
And sometimes I don’t even know if I’ll ever take back my sanity
My stare in the mirror pierces a broken image of me
As my life falls to pieces, I see broken words and shattered poetry
Closed notebooks and dried up pens lay bare on a dormant heart
Insane because my mind can no longer form two fractions into one whole part
Part of me plus a part of you equals one whole broken heart
Divide by two leaves me confused and wondering where to start
I didn’t mean for this to be another sad love poem
But I think you’ve loved me totally and completely crazy
Enclosed by cushioned phrases and padded dreams
Confined by cold, hard, bare memories
I love you till I could love no more and your love meant everything to me
You wrapped me in a stray jacket of passion
Gave me two pills in a little plastic cup, told me to close my eyes lean my head back and fill up
You stuck me in the vein that goes straight to my heart
Forcing me to bleed this poem from my pen and soak my life
In fact, I cry tears of blood that drench the pages of my love story and make permanent something that you only intended to be temporary
Deep breaths soothe my suffocated soul
As I inhale chucks of a dried up dream of you and me
I’m free
From a long gone fling that meant absolutely nothing to me
I’m free
From depression shading my bright future and forcing me into a darkness drowned by a dying hope
I’m free
From pages and pages of pointless poetry
I’m free
To live like my heart won’t be hurt by every man that says he loves me
And I will DIE before I become a woman scorned, broke, made bitter from your insecurities and mis-directed passion
I think you loved me crazy
But one day
I’ll stand, with my should held back, chin in the air, a voice strong enough to bellow line after line of my hearts poem
And from realization that you never loved me…I’ll proclaim my sanity.