I’ve missed you for days
Mist crying rain falling down my face.
I miss you so much
Your kiss and your touch
Love the vision of us
But I need the real stuff.
I missed you last night
It just didn’t feel right
Sleeping alone in a double-wide.
I miss you and me
Sitting up in a tree
French k-i-s-s-i-n-g.

I miss you, I wish you
Would come through
Cause I’m having withdrawals.
I’m so tired of faking
You’re my ball and chain and
Without you I feel naked

I miss you like hell
Feels like I’m in hell
Eyes burning yearning for your flesh.
I miss you to death
May as well be a deaf
If I can’t hear the depth
Of your breath on my chest.
I miss you too much
Got me doing too much
But it just aint enough
Insufficient funds.
How else can I say
That I miss you always
Guess I’ll just keep repeating
That same phrase.

I miss you, I wish you
Would come through
Cause I’m having withdrawals.
I’m so tired of faking
You’re my ball and chain and
Without you I feel naked.

ShareThis

First they glisten then they mold, rust and gangrene
I should’ve listened to the oldies tryna scold me
But I didn’t and now I’m holding cheap jewelry.
Called her Diamond, mind you she was a Cubic
She was fine with lying and I was just stupid
Or blinded by the way her body bended sun rays
Lollygagging in my ways I should’ve got her appraised.
It took some time to see the real from the fake
Looked like karats to me, but she was just gold plates
Counterfeited awful quick like after market rejects
Insufficient funds detect she wasn’t even baguettes
Just baggage 
Nicknamed “D” cause she was below average
Hooks on me like I’m crack and she’s addict
Surface wiped clean but underneath was ravaged
The grass looked green but the seed was too damaged.

ShareThis

Second guess, dislike.
But now I’m being Judas
Betray my right mind.
Usually I don’t do this
Still I just might
Since I express myself best
When I’m left to write.
Not ambidextrous but yes
Even my left is right.
Southpaw from the West
On Southwest Air, like
Entendres doubled-over
No In-N-Outs, read it twice.
Now you double-doubled over
Can’t shake the fries.
Cause I’m sick with this pen
Call me carcinogen.
Chemotherapy preparing me
To lose it again
My hair that is
You know how unfair that is?
My alliterations a-literally
Nair these kids.
Oh, it aint my fault
That I talk like this
Pops walked this way
So I’m following his.
I aint trying to front
I hate trying to flaunt
But double-space my fonts
So you don’t get daunt.
Cause when I lace this page
With phrases like “daunt”
People look side-ways
Like, “what the font?
Who you trying to kid
Using words like this
You’re still a kid
You’re still a nigg
Ah..”
They call it talking white
I call it English-spit.
They’re mis-led, mis-educated
Hooligans
And now they got me acting
A-fool a-gain
Pen and pad in hand
Trade tools, I’m in.
And as a femme is higher up
Than a whore
Still my pen is mightier
Than your sword.

ShareThis

All us so tall
That’s cause they auctioned off us
Let the small ones falter.
Bred us like hogs
Inbred like dogs
So yeah bread
That’ll make you go off.
Can you blame he whose seen scenes
Mama traded on the block
To a strange light man
For half the price of an ox.
Another Anglo Saxed his pops
But first stripped him down
Past his socks
So he could marvel at his muscles and his cock.
His parents never divorced
But their marriage is on the rocks
And he never ever drunk before
But now he’s taking shots.
I never been a slave before
Neither was my pops
But be-four score the civil war
My late great grandpa’s pops
Had a master who called him bastard
Ass backwards he lived his present in past(ure).
Now they done took the boy out the field
But he aint a house-n*gga
He’s a home-boy.
Still to this day
When I yessuh to o’fay
It takes me back to those days.
Abused with tools, sticks and whips
Till we purpled and dripped
Bruised blood, swollen lips can’t spit.
Least I not forget, the poison lips
The racial slurs might spur this jackass to kick.
Called me every name under the sun
Then called me “son”
Cause back down the hallway he was getting some
From my moms.
She’s a pawn on his chessboard
She just his flesh whore
Only good for one knight
Then he’s just bored.
Till the black queens’ breast bore him a son
And had everybody on the plantation wondering
“What kinda n*gga he was
Light skin, light eyes, where he get that from?
He been inside since day one.
Riding ’round all passive with massah
Like they father and son
Nose up, looking down like he aint one
Of us.
You better get on the bus
And sit in the back with blacks
They called him dad’s brother Tom
He called ‘em jiggaboo lads.

ShareThis

To be an author plus a writer
Does that make me arthritis?
My carpel tunnel is acting funny again
So I car pool in tunnels like paparazzi. Damn.
I didn’t say that, no that was my tourette’s
I’m on tour in Europe, rocking with The Jets
Audible like Brett, Audiger, so Smet
Not a metro-joe, but I keep myself kept.
Cleanliness is next to Godliness. Yes?
I’m on cloud 9, precipitate my sweat
While you lying in swine, bacon ham and eggs
With your Dr. Seuss rhymes, I do not like them. Yes.
You might need a thesaurus to listen to this author
Because his aura is something so pre-historic
I know you dinosaur it, then Land of The Lost it
You’s a Fossil I’m watching, but do not dig.

ShareThis

She’s full of herself
He took one look
His neck crook
And gestured a yep
Then she told him
She needed some help
She was tired of tooting her own horn
So he blew it himself
He flirted with her flute
And blew it to death
She come in humming herself
Who you fooling?
She pursued it herself
She’s the cougar
So he’s playing gazelle
And he’s doing it well
She’s his Lady Love
And he’s LL
Licking lips
Chapstick don’t fail
She so nasty
Janet Jack, he-
So So Def
Mad-dame, she play boys like Hef
She’s his center-fold
She got his Kenneth Cole
Reaction to sweat
He bluetoothed her a sms
And as she read the text
She got humid in that sun-dress
She felt foolish, felt stupid
Hot, bothered and wet
When she hadn’t even heard his breath
Let alone his “yes”
Moans while boning, yes!
For all she knew he could just be a phone(y) sex
Operator
So she gave him a test
She gave him Tess
Her ex-girl from the West
And she had next
Her babydoll, dolled up
In a baby doll dress
How do you say ménage tres?
And the best thing
She no speaking no ingles
So she say “Si”, instead of “yes”
So she say “Si Daddy, me Daddy”
And he aced that Tess
“Oui Daddy” when we they all French kissed
A hot mess, yep.

ShareThis

I’m tryin
Mama said, you can’t say nothing nice
Be quiet
So I’ve been mime for weeks
But this meekness aint me
I’m tired of humble pie
I’m not lion, but need meat
I’m the nicest guy, um
You ever gonne meet
Till you hit my B side
Slice and dice you like beets
Tried to kill you with kindness
No dice, now I’m beat
Never mind all the niceness
Now on to plan B
Time to get on your level
Even if I need a shovel
Since you wanna dig a ditch
Let’s get dirty in this britch
You muckraker, hoe-caker
Looking for a Captain-Savior
Hope floats all around
If you can’t swim I’ll watch you drown
Tired of being the bigger person
Turned both cheeks, now they both hurting
I know one thing is for certain
My sanity, you are not worth it
Please grant me the serenity
To accept things unchanged, times infinity
And when this lame must be in my proximity
Please grant me the faith to fake affinity.

ShareThis

They’re so sly
Nine lives
They’re all mines
Feline, and she’s fine
Her purr makes my fur rise.
Arch like an “M” sign
I’m watching her tail from behind
I kiss her, my whiskers
Tickle her like punch lines.
My kitten, I’m smitten
Stroking her back with my mittens
In my lap she’s sitting
In trouble she’s getting.
Pussy-willow, bad ass switch
A spanking from me is what she gets
Cause she’s frisky and I love to frisk
I Leo, she’s my Tigress.

ShareThis

Yet it seems his job is always on him
Daydreams being free
Nightmares, being there
Book ‘em so ends meet
The only reason he’s there, see here.
He aint being ungrateful
But to him corporate world is joke
Still pimps, hoes and hoax
Blackberry, it’s the new yoke
Bosses whip emails at he
Like whips they used to flag we.
A modern-day plantation his work-station
Chained to his desktop, at lunch and break they chain off
Biting his tongue till it bleeds no more
It’s his silice belt, I hope it’s day, like Silas wore.
They introduced him to big-boss-man
The office big-house and he was but a field-hand
He yielded till he was waived in with hand
Upon entrance he nodded, “yes sir, good morning”.

to be continued…

ShareThis

He’s Yoga Bear the kid.
Tryna downward dog
Her picnic ass-kit.
She bee the queen of this hive.
He bee some worker on a gig,
But he’s gonne swing his shift
To the eve of her ribs.
“Yes, yes”, that’s what say to him,
While she sing that song like a top fave hymn.
He gave a slight grin, and a bite on her chin,
So she hiked up her hind legs so he could get in.
He jumped in like swim,
Backstroking with his limbs.
It phelped good as gold,
He was her olympian.
He turned on his thrust,
Till she thought he might bust,
Just a squirrel on a nut;
But little did she know his goal was a rush.
He was not little, she felt him in her bust,
She felt his cusp.
Her cup runneth over
Till she thought she might bust.
Then aloud she cussed,
Like the back of the bus.
…She couldn’t fake it
The masquerade was over, time for her to break in.
Position mission-impossible,
She could take it, elated.
Then rode his stick-shift like a road-trip, Vegas.
Lap after lap, she poled-position, again.
Screaming hallelujah, all that’s missing was an amen.
His john was a legend, so she said another again.

ShareThis