KING ME

My back ground Music

He is my back ground music!
When I move, it’s to the sounds of his adoration for me!
He is my back ground music!
Peeling me open like a banana, he kisses my bruises!
Yes yes he is my background music.
I rock slowly to his roar and fall a sleep to his purr!
He is my back ground music!
Slaying dragons, calling stars, within my reach, to the rhythm of his instrumental climax!
Dancing in a frenzy to a hypnotic beat!
Inciting, enticing, magnetic grooves.
Moving me to the depths of my inner Queen!
Pulling me to the horizon of my destiny!
My background music in the notes of a high sexy, and intense integrity,
Resting before, the entrance of pretty flute notes singing my creativity,
Saxophone solos whispering Gods favor upon me!
Angels singing praises to the woman I am…
Slave’s hums of what I am to become!
I am captivated by the beat!
I roll my hips, and twerk a bit,
Then pop my fingers to the song,
As the world wonders, how I am so strong?
They can’t hear my background music!

Nickels and Dimes

Oh thank the Lawd, I got a Job!
But at the end of the day, I feel like I got robbed!
Not by the dysfunctional people I see,
But by the people that are suppose to be paying me!
I reviewed my paycheck and it don’t add up,
Cause for every cent I earn, I owe them two bucks!
A penny for your thoughts? Sista I can’t afford to pay,
I gotta buy folders, staples, a battery for the clock, & my paper supply is short,
My mission is critical, I cannot abort!
Danger Will Robinson! Danger Indeed!
I do not have the money to purchase tools I need.
There are children literally dying in the street!
Mothers using the food stamps to purchase their mental treats,
Fathers sneaking in bedrooms where they should not be!
I  am paid to protect them, but these fools keep nickling and diming me!
Shorting me on my milage and demanding too much paper work,
to pay me for what I earned, and already spent!
I am worried about these children, but I can’t even pay my rent!
Never paying me for my time or my ability to save lives.
They just keep reaching out and stealing my nickels & dimes.
I am on a mission to provide safety, well being and permanency,
Working with one hand, cause I need the other to stop them from robbing me!
The DEVIL is busy, working a full time job,
Teaching DFCS to write policies to steal money.
Aggravated robbery! Trickery! Thievery!
A bad investment, my social work degree, when I divide it
by student loans, subtract my rent, erase all the money at DFCS I spent!
Thank GOD that I have a heart, cultivated my skills and made them an art.
Thinking past the assignment, and made it a ministry,
Knowing I could never be paid for my worth!
Squeezing my pennies until it hurts!
Protecting children and providing  permanency!
All the while DFCS is robbing me!

Poetry and ME

Okay I am bout to be late,
But I had to take a minute to give an update
Me and poetry, an open display of public intimacy.
I am committed to Poetry like a MIC to an Emcee.
Letters never separate from my thoughts,
I hear the words in my sleep. I feel  them in my heart beat,
When it skips its natural rhythm, That’s a new found adjective striking a nerve.
The headaches, really just runaway verbs,
Stomachaches equal run on sentences flowing in my mind.
Alphabet soup streaming through my blood. It’s the L in my Love, the silent E in my cries.
The sweetness in my tenderness, the song in my lulabye.
Poetry and I are in sync. Really in love,
So my status updates or just an open display of my public affection, The ink pens creates my mind’s erection. A harmonic overflow of the longest orgasm of words.
Me and Poetry like my first and last name,  We just go together.

The Ghetto Kiss

assThe Ghetto Kiss

Early in the morning I put breakfast on your table,
Now that chick sure aint me!
Every meal we eat is in front the TV,
I am the poor, the whichamickfricken needy.
Tired of y’all sangin these love songs that don’t even relate to me.
Ya sneak up to my door my late at night, wit a chicken dinner and a sac of weed.
In those late night hours, you love my blonde weave
And how everything I got on is in camouflage pink.
Funny how when the sun rises,
Pink is the color of the skin you seek.
Where do you think I got my pride?
How do you think there is a dance in my stride?
Part of the radiance in my shine,
Comes from the whispers of you tellin me, I am fine!
With my legs spread wide and my back arched low,
Your stories build me up to be a Queen.
But when the sun comes up, it’s a different story you sing.
Somehow I transform into that hood-rat chick and crack fiend.
Those voices from the children you hear, are your seed!
Lost in why they can’t see santa,
Trapped in between, drive by shootings, & liquor store lootings, Wondering why they only see a man in the house at night.
In the wee hours of morning rise, they close their eyes,
Praying for a father to rescue them.
I pray for a lover of my mind and my thighs.
Wishing you could see that I decorate myself with pride.
My need of finances does not kill my creativity,
My love of community or responsibility.
You really just took me young,
Left me with your young, and I made do!
While you painted a story that is only part of the truth.
The love song you should all sang is, How I made it over!
Then take a picture of my pink thong ass and it put it on the cover!
Yes. Yes! Pucker up and kiss this lover!
Cuz every Ghetto rock star, rise of a welfare mother,
Older momma that rocks the stage with a degree,
That over-comer is me!
Singing my story, proud of food stamps and income budgeted rent.
It starts with a GED, spins into a master’s degree.
Encores with written books, movie deals and paychecks earned.
Birthed music writers, and basketball players who shoes, you buy!
In every story lives lies and truths, and I am living proof!
Yet sometimes in my mind, that blonde weave, ghetto chick
still exist and she screams with discomfort from the comments
of those who don’t understand the bunions on her feet.
Overworked and tired of the hits,
She wishes the world would just, kiss her ghetto grits!

I Broke My Poetry!

I fell down and broke my poetry.
Words and rhymes falling out my knees.
Didn’t know that it was letters I bleed.
Stop trying to help me up.
Please pick the W up!
I need it to express how I feel.
Cause the F and the U took a very hard spill.
The BIG G.O.D is always around,
Today He’s angry about the words that I left scattered all over the ground.
Magic Spells, and fairy tales please turn this situation around.
Help clean up the letters leaking all over the ground!
Everyone is reading my private thoughts,
Sorry that it hurts your feelings, but what is that bump on your nose?
Don’t get mad at me!
Everyone is thinking what you just read!
I fell and broke my poetry wide open,
Slow songs slid out, and rap songs started a fight,
Two toes let rock roll loose, and don’t judge me!
What would we see, if someone broke open your poetry?!

Would You Be Mines?

DSC_7586Would You Be Mines

My Valentines Day poem! I decided to recite this one for my readers!

Just click the title highlighted in red, then lay back and listen, let me take care of your artistic indulgence for today!

This poem is dedicated to my number one reader and commentator on this site, Mr. Earl11!

I appreciate you Mr. Earl! God Bless and Happy Valentines Day!

Still Searching

Looking at a map of the Great United States.Autosave-File vom d-lab2/3 der AgfaPhoto GmbH
Plotting a route of the trips I’d like to take.
Skipping over poverty, been there way to long!
Jumping over sorrow, my my I know that song!
Racing past pity, I have seen all I need.
Trying to obtain my destiny without visiting greed!
Can’t visit any forest without planting my seed,
For if not for us, there would be no evil deeds.
So many places to go, So many people to know,
So many things to give, I just wanna live, in Honesty!
Stand in Prayer! Sleep in Peace! Give without limits!
The state of the States, Crime! Poverty! & Hate!
Planning my trip, without the baggage of mistrust,
Not wanting to pack, “please don’t hurt me again!”
Forgetting on purpose, “I thought you were my friend!”
Leaving behind anger and despair.
Where I am going, there’s no place for you there…
Running to greet, Jesus is Lord!
Two helpings of Faith in my suitcase!
Sitting on top so i get in, “In GOD I will trust!”
Makeup bag filled with Love,
Left the lip liner on the bed and painted my lips with Mercy & Grace!
Packed determination in my carry on to assist in the race.
Dreaming of my trip! Where will Destiny take me?
Understanding that I have survived.
Yet knowing that I have not arrived!
I am still searching.

How Powerful am I?

How Powerful Am I?DSC_7604
It’s all in the strength of how I try!
I balance butterflies on my noes,
Walk in high heel shoes,
Giving off a sexy aura,
Without showing you my jewels.
I carry a full-time job, while holding down a part-time job,
clutching two children, a diaper bag, a killer purse
You wish you had, open up car doors, strap them in the seats,
Never breaking sweat and preforming with ease!
Like walking on a tight rope, I rise above,
The nations of your dreams, I dance around the circle of fire,
Igniting the flames that you’ve set trying to burn my fame.
I am hip to your assassination attacks, but I am not afraid!
For God knows my name!
I speak my mind, line by line, like music notes,
or late night jokes, my thoughts breath life!
My children understand they are royalty.
Strangers take notice and wish they were me.
Meager becomes great, and although I am not worthy,
Angles back up what I say!
Because the thoughts I speak are not my own!
They are the words of Him who sits on the throne!
Speaking into creation what doesn’t exist!
I see you believing as you read this!
You can see my beauty high above,
You see the Woman that I speak of!
She is powerful in your mind,
Just by reading some words that rhyme!
How powerful are nouns and verbs.
How powerful am I, lies in the reader of these words!
Your thoughts, however, cannot limit me,
Cause my power lies in what I believe!
How powerful am I? It’s all in the strength of how I try!
Shaking your head as if you can’t believe this.
Trying to understand how I can speak what you wish!
There is no proof in the pudding! My Bowl is empty!
The spoon, licked clean!
No mess on my face, cause I eat like a Queen!
Devouring His word! I am self taught!
Activated by love! Nourished with Faith!
No morsels left! My plate is clean! The proof exist inside of me!
You can examine the facts when I arrive at my Destiny!

I Am So Blessed!

Despite every test I fail, and all my other crazy mess,
I feel so blessed!
I cannot ever remember NOT talking to God!
To some that may seem a little odd.
My first memory is of me, looking in the mirror and talking to Him!
I guess even at the age three, littleblackgirl
I was able to recognize the God in me.
I would speak to Him in my play!
I always knew how to pray,
Yet, not really knowing how to believe.
Faith is really hard to grasp!
Its like hope, absent luck, without any sight,
Of knowing how things will come to past.
So when I had my child young and out of wedlock,
Had to face my family and relay,
I got pregnant so I guess I’m caught,
Living my secret teenage life,
Knowing it’s wrong, pretending like it’s right,
Facing the issues of being married, young and dumb,
Burying my mother way too young,
Taking in her children with no real job,
Going back to college despite those odds.
Living my nightmare on crack street,
Working two jobs just to make ends meet.
Pursuing and obtaining a Master’s degree,
All while burying the elders in my family.
Then raising my children and watching them take flight.
Still praying to God that they would be all right.
Running and hiding to protect their life,
Making mistakes in the decisions, when God told me right!
Then setting off for destination unknown, searching for my destiny.
Absent my friends, loved ones, and family.
Looking at the present and all of my mess,
I continue to say, “I AM SO Blessed!
Grasping at Faith and waiting for the increase!
Not understanding why even I believe,
Except for looking at this list of all He has done for Me!