poetry

I See God

Some say the words I write make them feel like a God. I find that rather odd. I just speak to the King I see. Sometimes he’s asleep, resting in his manly being. So I approach and caress his ears with my words. Sometimes I tease him with tantalizing verbs. Massaging the tension from his

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The New Child Abuse

  Dipped in sugar, laid in sweat, poured into the ink pen, Drama keeps it wet. Thirsty for a plot, bobbing to stop the bleed, Head swinging left to right, to interpret  what you read. Three found dead, rocks on the scene. Change the font, adjust the format. Nope! Same old scene. Script has been

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My Poetry

  My poetry I have words that open the door to my sexy. But if my sex is all u want to see, I have verbs that represent my set! See, I like the art of seduction, whispering fantasies, That transition into reality, If you have the vision to see. Building pyramids with my nouns,

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MOTION

Can you please tell me why knowing that you love me, moves my mind to a different place in the universe? Is it actually love or a curse? I feel hopelessly alone in my space. Existing in a private bubble until you infiltrate my thoughts on my same weird & exotic rhythm. Then we vibe!

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The secrets out!

So many of you trying to keep the secret. The X-ray vision of life sees through your red dress, Your eyes lashes our fake and your hair line is a mess of bald patches in distress. Why do you keep pretending like you got it all together? You are held in bondage by panty girdles

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