Black Poetry : A Letter To A Whore I Knew

Matt4Jack

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REGISTERED MEMBER
Aug 18, 2004
5
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by poetryality on January 3, 2008.
© All rights Reserved - Renee Matthews-Jackson



You beguiled me into submission!

I tripped over your whorish behaviors,
lusted after the fact.

Had I known you stuck your extension
in every hole that opened itself to you,
I would have run as far away as humanly possible.

And you said you trusted me!
I laugh in afterthought (hindsight).
Why didn't I think to mistrust you,
now that I know you were/are a fiend?

Thrusting your mannish-self
upon far too many women
to even remember names,
and you have a wife
that you spill residue into?

Maybe I should make her aware
of your affairs.
Call her, and give a list
of all the ladies of the night
you have entertained for years.
Poor believers in your lies.

I think she deserves to know
how many pieces
you've penetrated with your cunning.
How many different tastes
have been on your tongue,
all the varied scents of perfumed posture...
Sickening aromas of misbegotten avarice.

Then again, in my hip pocket
I've got your phone messages,
which you keep so that you can listen
over and over, and smile at your triumph.
Or so you think you're triumphant.
I think you're a sex-crazed fool
who is eagerly searching
for a way to die.

I think you will get what's coming to you.
You can't keep burning women
and possibly men,
because who knows
what you screw.
Animal, vegetable, or mineral,
it's all the same to you.
There are no feelings
from your touch.

You are a demon,
and you're truly not a good lay at all.
How I fell pray to your sick devices
is beyond my comprehension.
I won't spend time trying to figure.
I'll just get another test;
to make sure
you're infectious habits
have not tainted the goodness in me.
You'd better get your wife tested too.

I'm simply waiting for karma
to come sit next to you
and point its finger square in your face.
Waiting for the come around affect
to wreck you into oblivion.
You're too old
to act as you do.
At some point the grip of reality
is going to choke you into your last breath.
I hope you see all the faces you've betrayed
right before you meet your maker, love.







Author notes:

This is called Progressive Poetry.
Each stanza adds a line beginning with one line, then two, and so on...
This poem is progressively written into 11 stanzas.

Life bites! Make sure to keep your shots updated.
 
?

Matt4Jack said:
by poetryality on January 3, 2008.
© All rights Reserved - Renee Matthews-Jackson



You beguiled me into submission!

I tripped over your whorish behaviors,
lusted after the fact.

Had I known you stuck your extension
in every hole that opened itself to you,
I would have run as far away as humanly possible.

And you said you trusted me!
I laugh in afterthought (hindsight).
Why didn't I think to mistrust you,
now that I know you were/are a fiend?

Thrusting your mannish-self
upon far too many women
to even remember names,
and you have a wife
that you spill residue into?

Maybe I should make her aware
of your affairs.
Call her, and give a list
of all the ladies of the night
you have entertained for years.
Poor believers in your lies.

I think she deserves to know
how many pieces
you've penetrated with your cunning.
How many different tastes
have been on your tongue,
all the varied scents of perfumed posture...
Sickening aromas of misbegotten avarice.

Then again, in my hip pocket
I've got your phone messages,
which you keep so that you can listen
over and over, and smile at your triumph.
Or so you think you're triumphant.
I think you're a sex-crazed fool
who is eagerly searching
for a way to die.

I think you will get what's coming to you.
You can't keep burning women
and possibly men,
because who knows
what you screw.
Animal, vegetable, or mineral,
it's all the same to you.
There are no feelings
from your touch.

You are a demon,
and you're truly not a good lay at all.
How I fell pray to your sick devices
is beyond my comprehension.
I won't spend time trying to figure.
I'll just get another test;
to make sure
you're infectious habits
have not tainted the goodness in me.
You'd better get your wife tested too.

I'm simply waiting for karma
to come sit next to you
and point its finger square in your face.
Waiting for the come around affect
to wreck you into oblivion.
You're too old
to act as you do.
At some point the grip of reality
is going to choke you into your last breath.
I hope you see all the faces you've betrayed
right before you meet your maker, love.







Author notes:

This is called Progressive Poetry.
Each stanza adds a line beginning with one line, then two, and so on...
This poem is progressively written into 11 stanzas.

Life bites! Make sure to keep your shots updated.
uuummmmm.....and this pertains to your name???????
:qqb010:
I like the progressive effect though!!!!!!!!!!!!
 
Matt4Jack said:
by poetryality on January 3, 2008.
© All rights Reserved - Renee Matthews-Jackson




You beguiled me into submission!

I tripped over your whorish behaviors,
lusted after the fact.

Had I known you stuck your extension
in every hole that opened itself to you,
I would have run as far away as humanly possible.

And you said you trusted me!
I laugh in afterthought (hindsight).
Why didn't I think to mistrust you,
now that I know you were/are a fiend?

Thrusting your mannish-self
upon far too many women
to even remember names,
and you have a wife
that you spill residue into?

Maybe I should make her aware
of your affairs.
Call her, and give a list
of all the ladies of the night
you have entertained for years.
Poor believers in your lies.

I think she deserves to know
how many pieces
you've penetrated with your cunning.
How many different tastes
have been on your tongue,
all the varied scents of perfumed posture...
Sickening aromas of misbegotten avarice.

Then again, in my hip pocket
I've got your phone messages,
which you keep so that you can listen
over and over, and smile at your triumph.
Or so you think you're triumphant.
I think you're a sex-crazed fool
who is eagerly searching
for a way to die.

I think you will get what's coming to you.
You can't keep burning women
and possibly men,
because who knows
what you screw.
Animal, vegetable, or mineral,
it's all the same to you.
There are no feelings
from your touch.

You are a demon,
and you're truly not a good lay at all.
How I fell pray to your sick devices
is beyond my comprehension.
I won't spend time trying to figure.
I'll just get another test;
to make sure
you're infectious habits
have not tainted the goodness in me.
You'd better get your wife tested too.

I'm simply waiting for karma
to come sit next to you
and point its finger square in your face.
Waiting for the come around affect
to wreck you into oblivion.
You're too old
to act as you do.
At some point the grip of reality
is going to choke you into your last breath.
I hope you see all the faces you've betrayed
right before you meet your maker, love.







Author notes:

This is called Progressive Poetry.
Each stanza adds a line beginning with one line, then two, and so on...
This poem is progressively written into 11 stanzas.

Life bites! Make sure to keep your shots updated.
manye.. can't say i understand...
why u dropp'd this flow right here...
this one right here's a name game...
I'm Miss Lady if u unaware...

Miss Lady is a lady
A lady that is fair
And I know this don't sound lady-like
but Miss Lady doesn't care

You were sleepin with somebody's man
and u knew he had a wife..
That ain't bein a Miss Lady..
two wrongs never make a right..

So if u really wanna be a Lady..
A Miss Lady that is real...
u said urself .. he got a wife..

A

Miss Lady.....

Would care how SHE feel.
 
Matt4Jack thank u for this great flow ware as it was moved to it's
own thread let me just add that Links not allowed in Poetry Rule #5
http://www.destee.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8084
this we reserved for Premium members

Thank you in advance
Admin.
$$RICH$$
 

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