Black Poetry : How Me and Your Mum Met…

waynethomas

Active Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Mar 24, 2007
36
2
I’m no ‘Morden day’ Shakespeare,
But I’ve danced with a few men in my time.

Danced in the context that
As men chosen to be born on this earth,
We’re all trying to jump on this beat.

A beat that we
Sip and thrive enough to dip inside,
And the beat in question is a ride we call life.

And though
Played and heard us the very same beat,
We seemingly
(Like it’s out of our own personal choice)
Seem to all be able to hear it played,
But allow for it to affect us differently.

And as I allow the
Bass of drum to pulsate my blood through
All nerve connections
So that each one of my bodily tips is filled
I’m able to moves rhymically within music’s perfectly timed
Time lines –
In my eyes,
One of the highest forms of multi-tasking.

So where I have been blessed with time,
Others…
Well,
Let’s just say that others seem to have been blessed to
Catch the odd beat or two;
But with all our different types of rhythms in view,
We are all still pursuit to be the one you choose
To be the only one tonight
That holds your entire view.

Now,
In this dimly lit visual environment
My experience over the out come of this situation
Is not just the
‘Simple but effective’
Dance moves that you see from me,
But comes in realising that…
She will only see what she desires to see.
And with so many to choose from,
Who am I
But an addition to this
Hazed meat market view…

So rather than
Approach you with my unique style leisurely,
Hoping to apply the ample measure if words
To tip you in my direction tonight gradually,
I have a need for my actions
To speak more than my words ever could be…
And on this occasion,
I want my words to move you towards me…

Because you see now
This note that I know that you have been reading
Since my Shakespeare introduction,
Has almost completed the task that the
Others had calculated for winning you.

So let’s firstly address your first question…
“What are my intentions tonight towards you?”

Well… as this note was made in the
Frustration of
You being the only one I can see in the room,
The frustration of seeing a smile from you
Fade into
Us being lost in a momentary gone astray stare,
From the lucid brown eyes
Found within someone I can see spending the rest of my…
Well,
I just wanted to show the
Instant connection I had felt with seeing you.

And just to show you
That this is not just another premeditated fib,
That is brought with me,
Neatly folded,
Every time I need someone to go raving with,
Tell me,
How else would I have been able to write…
“Who really is that ugly girl in the red dress you brought with you
As you know should have told her before you left out tonight
About the lack of co-ordination between that dress and those shoes”

Ahhh…
The mere fact that I’m seeing you smiling
After guessing what your part of the note you’re now reading
Give me a clue that… I’m going to like you.

As already my jokes you applaud
And that my approach seems to leave you wanting more
But I see your intelligence now thinking
“Nice try brother, confidence exposed your wishful thinking…”
But have you fail to realise that my note young lady
You seem to be still reading…

So now the pause in your thinking,
As now its time for the split seconds needed
To weigh my known pros cons
Which will move you to deciding
Whether a verbal conversation in a quieter environment
For the us connection to
Carry on,
Or stay to continue with your whispers in to the ears
Of those that confuse the view of what I see as confidence you oozed,
As a three word abuse when said “Please…. Jog on”
But after seeing them doing the
‘Logon’ to Peter Andre’s ‘Mysterious Girl’
Then asking you to dance,
That’s really not on!

But can we move on…?



Dúbb’l yoo T © 2008
 

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