Black Poetry : The Syndrome

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by Nahshon, Apr 30, 2013.

  1. Nahshon

    Nahshon Well-Known Member MEMBER

    United States
    Sep 20, 2001
    Likes Received:
    I can't pass the test
    when her body flips her spirit from one extreme
    to the next
    I am not setting her off with my words
    It's the syndrome
    makes her think the words said
    were aimed at her head
    like sniper scopes
    I hope I can just get out of her presence alive
    but if I die then I die.
    But I'll live to die
    to die to live
    to live to die
    to die to live
    again and again just to be with her

    Chemical imbalances seems to make her forget who I am

    You see my shadows cast light
    blinding those bound in ignorance
    of who they think I am
    my answers question the questions
    many refuse to ask
    My oceans rain skies
    when my truth tell lies
    My darkness exudes gravitational energies
    my inner wars bring external peace
    I can take a bird out of the sky
    tap into it's powers and fly
    I made earthbound gods question why
    While I stroked minds beyond thought fathoms
    I simply answered I needed to see d*ckheads
    fall limp from their own egorgasms(ego-orgasms)
    and after my flight I swing back down to earth
    my home
    the place of my birth
    to put on genital body armor
    to protect self and lover
    She, I, we've aborted thoughts of abortions
    because it's not what we believe in

    I can't help composing poetic free-verse symphonies
    on subway car trains
    about loving a PMS suffering skinny woman that loves to complain
    and she complains about everything
    from the food that I eat
    to me pulling out to soon
    to spill ego on sheets
    of her bed
    not book
    only to look
    at her on top me again
    as her hip lips suck
    the seeds from my d*ck
    to spit
    into eggs of poetry
    we, lovemaking poets
    she and me love making poets
    impregnating each other giving birth to little poetics

    I tell you she gets pissed if I miss any opportunity that was put before me...
    to be all I can be
    recite my poetry
    and teach
    teach children to go beyond (poet-ential) potential
    help them see the days of their lives
    be their credentials of this university
    we call universe

    She says she loves me with a growl from her teeth
    Shi+ the syndrome is
    f*cking with she again
    and I am the man
    in the line of her fire
    she gets loud and evil
    calls me a liar
    when i tell her it's she I'd die for
    I confess the only way to minimize this mess
    is for me to remove the stress beneath her dress

    so our bodies once again dance on the moonbeams
    that infiltrate bedroom dreams

    and at the times she doesn't suffer from the imbalance
    we take the chance to bite love marks
    on the walls of each other's hearts