...A Poets Realm...

“To The Funny Man”

You’re hilarious indeed. .

Managed to stay consistant thus far

And yes,the jokes on me

The pun being that I havent spoken to you or even considered

you

a friend for over 2years now

You’re like a ghost

Only you dont deserve such revelry

Me and my best friend speak of you ever so naturally

because involunarily

you manage to attack me into making mention of you

subconciously

For this is the only way you can stay alive in our mouths…

Like MJ’s murder case:the way we discuss you

the way we sit around

and comb through different scenarios,

come up with different ideals

and theories

and conclusions. .

We talk you up like the big bang theory-

Only your big bang came after civlizations were formed. .

After Ideals of love were thought into existance…

Way after the beginning

your big bang caused many endings

more closely related to the apocolypse,

but no where near as deserving of such a title

The Jesters toss you around

because the funny thing about you is

you managed to get your wish

to stick around with me

The comedic portion of your presence is

You continuosly have me acknowledge your presence like

a worthy ghost… .

In that sense you do haunt me

but instead of shreaking cries,low growls or sounds of anarchy

you grant me

great literary works,many songs attributed to you

and even this damned poem

You are the best at jest

yet and still

I can’t wait for your jokes to stop being funny.

This Generation is the blind leading the blind. Plagued with Individuals following whatever trend is in for the taking. Inhaling the ideas of “Swagg” and “Yolo” lifestyles only to exhale secondhand bullshit that taints your existence even if you choose to live above the influence. 

Love that has been lost has been replaced with the thinking patterns of being Jaded, Broken, Alone, and Vulnerable. Women have thrown all ambitions into the wind and think without knowledge or care for their repercussions. The appreciation of innocence has been replaced with the craving for promiscuity, and the rush that is delivered fuels this lustful nature. Women used to proudly wear clothing that draped over her silhouette. Days like this nature seem to be an oxymoron though.

Men are now thinking with their dicks when it comes to women; their was a time when the term “wifey” was considered a step up among people my age. Now it is a guessing game on an episode of Maury. As a man celebrates and cheers when he hears “You Are Not The Father” As a Female has to dissect her harshly judged past to find the location of a cowardly man who at one point was an ever so willing sperm donor; all the while possibly accepting the fact that the child she is bearing or has birthed may not ever see his or her father. 

Men are quick to whisper sweet nothings into a females ear in hopes of getting to that magic sitting in-between her thighs that seems to have an uncontrolled power over us. A mouth ejaculates lies that attach to her ears like sperm to an egg & before you know it our 9 minutes of game running can lead to your graduation from child to mother. 

Those of us who are left stare into this cluster fuck of “what the fucks” that seem to flood the world we are only striving to survive in & still trying to find an answer to the question “What Are We Searching For?”

Fin

I Start caressing your legs while whispering in your ears. 
Telling you let down your guard, and let go of all your fears.
What I Speak may be lies, but the truth is all you hear. 

I Lay you down on the bed, our kisses are filled with lust.
Your pants become unbuckled, your heart beats with a rush.
Your nails dig in my back and its my skin that you clutch.

Our bodies are now entwined in one, you close your eyes in extacy.
As I Begin to kiss your neck, you let out moans recklessly. 
Approaching climax; you open your eyes to see that you’re no longer next to me.

You look around and notice it was you alone this whole time.
The words your reading off of this paper paint pictures in your mind.
Your legs begin to shake, as chills run up ur spine.
Before the ink graced this page I Knew you would be mine.

Every metaphor is a kiss, that creates the perfect bliss.
Every similie that’s delivered makes ur inner thighs quiver.

The formation of punctuation leaves u filled with temptation. 
It is due to this creation that you crave penetration.

My pen speaks with poetic tongue.
It inks you’re spot until its numb.
Every letter; syllable and word.
Deep Strokes you until they’re heard. 

This is a Talent; its a skill that takes precise construction.
My Pen is very fluent in the art of Literature Seduction.

[a piece inspired by http://raymariex0.tumblr.com/ . thanks for the late night inspiration]

Thoughts have piled up again; this mental state seems familar.

I touch the sky to free my mind in ways some find peculiar.

There are no Stems, no sticks and no seeds in these trees.

Just potent words that fill the air and make one stop and wheeze.

These plants have roots deep in my mind and have sprouted throughout my brain.

The fruits that grow are filled with a nector that courses its way through my veins.

My mind is a greenhouse filled to the top with thoughts that blossom so beautifully.

Each time I enduldge; a story unfolds. Each time this HIGH feels new to me.

I break up my words like the finest of herbs and sprinkle them onto the paper.

I roll it tight; strike the light and inhale these endless vapors.

The feeling takes control of me; Euforia taking a toll on me.

My brain is storming, emotions transforming. THIS drug has a hold on me.

The Use of Sequioa creates Paranoia; doubt now creeps into the picture.

Has this drug that I love been abused or misused while attempting to create these scriptures?

This mental Affliction’s my new found Addiction. My Depiction of Fiction is astounding.

This drug cant be dismissed; it must STAY in my midst while these thoughts continue compounding.

These words are my habit; they bestow me with power.

Attracted like a magnet to this magical powder.

When Im at my lowest; they bring me up Higher.

My brain will forever be the dealer and my page will be the buyer.

FiN

The love we had for one another simply left me jaded

So I smoked until my mind was gone & felt completely faded

Had to run from all the memories the two of us created.

But inhaling smoke into my lungs could not help me to escape it.

Looking through pictures depicting images that seemed so picture perfect.

subconsciously im wondering if this love is even worth it.

Hello’s can heal a heart; & Farewell’s can only hurt it.

Arguments begin & you don’t think of things before you blurt it.

Hugging my pillow late at night; in the position of a fetus.

Wiping tears off of my eyelids thinking “Damn I don’t believe this”

The one who made me stronger suddenly made me the weakest.

I aborted this relationship before we could conceive it.

A bittersweet Farewell with the aftertaste of sorrow

Had me building walls around me for the heartache of tomorrow.

All these doubts plagued my mind; & my pride has now been swallowed.

& although I feel my heart beat it still echoes like its hallow.

Then one day SHE caught my eye in a way no one’s accomplished.

As soon as she said Hello, the wall I built became demolished.

I could not believe what was happening; I swear I was astonished.

The indecisiveness that haunted me had completely been abolished.

She reached her hand to mines; & a spell was then bestowed on me.

The black cloud that was overhead no longer had control of me.

She wrapped me in her arms; since then she’s had a hold on me.

I still cannot fathom the feeling that’s taken over me.

She found me at my lowest and accepted me

The others had me at my highest and simply neglected me.

Left me for dead until she came and resurrected me.

Never had a person pick me up and help protect me.

All I ask of her is for patience; parts of me are still the same.

It’s hard to drop that old habit that’s been coursing through my veins.

Love’s needle pierced my skin and injected me with shame.

You helped cleanse me of this poison, my new addiction you became.

With this woman by my side I can do nothing but Excel.

I just hope that this Hello does not end with a Farewell.

i think i ALWAYS found it funny that in my younger adolescent years i considered the life i lived to be carefree instead of careless.

as a child sitting in a classroom of 15-25; scared to be too close to the front so i sat in back hoping to link up with familiar faces to ease the tension. not knowing the days daydreaming & class clowning was only keeping me away from thoughts.

thoughts that could have blossomed into idea’s, idea’s that could have been chased as potential dreams, dreams that could have turned into milestones for the life i live now. i wonder how many others JUST like me let opportunities slip through their fingers as the world continued to spin around them.

its funny though, in those exact classrooms we are asked the SAME questions “What do you wanna be when you grow up?” or “where do you see yourself in 20 years?” our eager hands rush into the air to answer with a certainty “a fireman” “a doctor” “a lawyer” “a police officer” the cliche answers we think our parents will be proud to hear us say. not even really knowing what many of these professions do, salary earned, schooling requirements. THESE dreams turn into EVEN MORE cliche dreams for some, dreams of hoop dreaming or rapping, or years in school until a dept is build up you can’t dig your way out of. how many of us are where we thought we would be 20 years ago?

I’m not saying that I’m ashamed of the life i have lived so far, in fact if i could go. i would not change a thing. i would sit in the SAME wobbly seat as I did before located in back of the classroom, but instead of spending days daydreaming. I would spend my days CHASING my dreams.

Do you remember your first time? 

that tender feeling of fear and anxiousness that swept through your bones? The constant questions that seem to circle around in your head on loop? Numbing of the fingers, Loss of all rationale, shaking from the inexperience that creeps though every vein of your body, that cool and calm demeanor that once possessed you is now nowhere to be found. 

Do you remember your first time?

Was not quite planned was it? Not how you see this thing called love depicted on Television was it? More Lust then Love seemed to be present. The pain intertwined with the pleasure? That feeling delivered from that person; THAT PERSON whom you thought sharing your body with would prove your feelings. THAT PERSON who at that moment in time was your everything. THAT PERSON whom at that moment you would have stood in front of a moving train for. To relive this moment would seem like magic. To turn back those sands of time and freeze the hour glass once more.

Do You Remember your first time?

On your outer shell you were “Big Pimpin” but you inner soul shook like Courage the Cowardly Dog. You see your partner has FAR more experience then you in the department of pleasing others. Due to Subliminal messages from movies, music and friends though you gotta keep that game face on. Cant show your lack of knowledge of the subject matter that they’re about to school you in.

Do You Remember your first time?

To young to realize that what was about to happen was wrong, your frail and fragile mind did not know that this was not appropriate behavior; how could you decipher right from wrong when your new to the world. To young to to hold a grudge but old enough to never forget. Yearning to turn back the hands of time to stop this atrocity from happening. A secret that is forever yours and will forever taint what LOVE truly is to you.

Do you Remember your first time? 

Caught in the moment; confusing his empty promises for legitimate truths; not knowing the words whispered into your ears where only there to assist your draws to your feet. Going against all you have been told by your parents; teachers, and friends. That 15 minutes of what seemed like heaven has turned into 9 months of a hell you will no longer get back. A face that was once seen on a day to day basis has now turned into a fading picture on the wall. A child born fatherless, another broken promise turned into another broken home, with another broken heart

Do You Remember your first time?

FiN

She gets lost in her reflection in the mirror of the vanity as she puts on make-up to cover up the insanity. Holding back the many tears; trying to face her many fears. She knows deep down inside THIS part of her life is just Calamity.

The name that is inked on her lower back is the name that leaves men tantalized. As she walks to the stage she can feel them start to analyze. Every single step she takes with the sensual moves her body makes seizes control of all their brains & forces them to fantasize. 

Other girls working the floor dislike that she is their customers distraction. She caresses the pole as she shakes her ass in a way no man can imagine. Body movement is phenomenal to the eyes she’s astronomical. She moves with a pupose knowing that this is all part of a transaction.

Hard earned money now comes raining down all in her direction. She glances carefully into her audience to make her next selection. There is seduction in her glare, the scent of lust in in the air. She walks toward him with dollar signs being her only objection.

There bodies meet on top the chair and she grinds slowly to please him. He whispers in ear empty promises for her to seize them. She undoes her top with hesitation; his money adds to this temptation. She then whispers back into his ear “baby you can squeeze them”  

Walking back towards the stage with her head held down in shame; to collect the money placed on the floor she worked hard for to claim. Enough to pay the rent and keep and her daughter content; thoughts now race through her head of what she has became. 

Childhood dreams of being doctor were altered in her reality. Its like the trials she went though derailed her plans and changed her whole mentality. Harsh times in her community made her develop an immunity to the life she lives for her daughter to have a chance to LIVE a life with normality. 

She wipes away the tears and counts her money with pride; she dances for her inner child to some how remain alive. In time she will get to wave farewell; say goodbye to this piece of hell. It is that thought alone that makes her smile and feeds her inner drive. 

FiN