every Thursday at Tryst,
over a back table, Jati
whips out his dominos case,
Fred rolls up his sleeves
the clinic`s open, yo
...who tryna see the doctor first?
through late crowd chatter
and the transitory pythons
rising from cigarettes,
Derrick shakes his head
as we eye the...
the end of a freestyle cypher
.....his room was hazy/ a group of 'em
just finish'd smoking/ he lit an incense
to chase away the smell of weed
the red-light threw color off our bare backs
.....we kept the TV on mute/ watch'd Japanese anime
movin in-time to Portishead, playin through his...
this is for the sistas
who’ve stopp’d combin consciousness
long enough for their minds to lock
i’m a weaver of language, who knits you a tam
to catch your thoughts
---the silken extensions
hangin from your head
like palm leaves
this also, is for the sistas
who vary in hue &...
just what i need'd:
.......................... the feel of friday on a thursday evening
.......................... when you pick'd me up early from work
& we wander'd the streets, aimless as vagrants
or high school vagabonds cut'n classes—nomadic
in our destinations before dining at...
thank you, yall...
and exotiqua.. i'm glad my poem was worth every bit of your time.. that really means alot to me.. thanks again yall for the kind words and support.. but can someone answer me this? where in the world is N2UrSoul?
the 18th Letter made me a believer
that hip hop'll be back soon, emcees would no longer
rely on beats & corny cliches to carry their whole LPs
i knew it when i heard, "Mahogany"
...before you were an acronym chant'd on the 13th track
of an 8 mile struggle---audible & shrink wrapp'd...
it's us, hand in hand
peragratin through Georgetown after work
with a cravin for Baskin Robbins
it's us cookin together
& you lovin me enough to show me
your secret recipes...
it's burnin African Peach incense
in your livingroom, starin blankly into space
we move like smoke
through a wall of bodies---
wet from funk, climbin' outta' pores like worms
crawlin' through soft dirt...
tryna' find clearin' on a crowd'd dance floor...
waitin' for the dj to take us there...take us where
we're buoyant bodies; a smoke screen
driftin' from a...
i heard Stevie singin' through an old jukebox
in the corner of the Chili Bowl* on U St.
i was orderin' cheese-fries...a chili burger...
& iced tea...snatch'd a vacant booth while my girlfriend sipp'd her tea,
waitin' on her chili-cheese-fries & turkey dog...
i can still
feel your tongue in my mouth,
long after we`ve part`d our lips in good bye whispers---
when our breath rode stale & dry through the humidity.
we were black bodies temporarily outlined
in blue hues from a neglect`d t.v. screen; unwatch'd movies
workin' like acoustic...
a balsamin` blunt
lay`d diagonal in an empty ICE BREAKERS mint carton
he holds the "roach" with his fingernails...
takes a long drag...releases slowly,
while his eyes fix themselves on a wall of thoughts
below his eyelids.
i watch the weight of unemployment...
kissin' you is new
everytime our tongues inter/lock us
movin' ourselves...tuned like clock/ gears groovin'
---turnin' ourselves into one another.
we fall, continuously
into each other...let our feet leave the ground
fuse our shadows together...& became the insoluble bodies
you be that/ cool cat..
the hennessy river sippin'
lip lickin' vessel of the bourbon liquor
runnin' so smooth; the smoke
from the balsamin' tip
handroll'd, then lit like nagchampa sticks.
the pixie stick funk
fumin' kiss on the breath
of kids, who part'd their lips
i just been busy with school and everything.. tryna' transfer over to Howard University and complete my undergrad education there.. plus, my poems been comin' slow to me.. so that's why i haven't been postin' much.. but thank you N2urSoul.. you know it means alot to me to get a...