Year: 2011

His demon, my shadow. (Treason) ADULTS ONLY please!

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Like Weezy said:
“Sometimes you gotta fight the devil with a demon”.
Now! I’m sure I’m your demon cause you’re so
good at using me. You take my body as your armour,
pummeling your troubles and dishonor,
drink my fire as rat’s poison;
penetrate my darkness, seeking wonders
that’ll make you feel safe and make you forget.
I’m no demon, only human,
 liking you needing me, fiending your wanting me.
Make me feel like a goddess,
even though I’m feeling stressed,
cause baby you got a hold on me.
And when your mouth cups me so tight,
 I sense I make you feel alright.
Kissing you, I bless this mess,
call it a test, from a Universe that’s bigger than us
I want you so much, I will attest
I will be your blasphemy;
 accept minstrelsy,
 say it’s heaven sent, though I know you don’t really want me
only to be inside of me and bury your devil in me
So, baby I’ll be your demon, your sometimes poison,
your armour and blasphemy, sure it’s treason
but at least I’ll have you next to me.
L. 12/10/11 0652


Apologies to my thighs (NC-17/Adults only please)

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Google images


I used to give pussy out of love
but we’ll call it free
until I took a good look at me
saw how the homies got happy
but won’t ever commit to me
they knew how to talk cum
but commitment (not cum hit man)
wasn’t ever welcome
so I became a ho, translation:
girl who likes to say no
from whom they can’t get some
it’s so easy in this life of lust
for a girl, nah, a woman to come
from being wanted to ain’t shit
men have it like that
hit it and leave it flat
from creme to dust
from I’m cumming to feeling shit
My heart has no key
nor can I set it free
so I take it, use it to loving me
I close my legs, thighs tell no lies
but sure hide my secret and
leave me no regrets
I baste them with love
promise them the respect hereof
the care and attention they been missing
and I ask for forgiveness for believing
these guys,
their lies
who loved their cushion,
their warmth, the notion
but never the person inside.

L. 12/10/11 0708


Wind chime melody

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on a broken wing
ended prayer string
pick yourself up and sing

a melody

beauty in sadness
resolution in madness
hope in emptiness

a sweet melody

cover yourself in song
speak of love so strong
even when all’s gone wrong

what melody!!!

tell your crying heart
time for a new start
do not fall apart

it’s a change in the melody

arrows of misfortune
alliances that end too soon
someday, you’ll fly beyond the moon

sing that melody
empty of melancholy
a sweet, sweet melody

L. 11/26/11 0800


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In the beginning, boys’ words
like streams around the bends,
a pathway around pellets and boulders

The words,
sticky and sweet
like candy cane juices stuck to
toddlers’ fingers
and babies’ cheeks

Molasses have nothing on them
nor sugar cane or better bees’ honey

They roll off their tongues
easily filled with thoughtless
promises for a future,
in algebraic expressions,
in chemical equations, they intend
not to solve

Like Lucifer to Eve,
better than Apate,
as if they studied under Cicero

Mimicking Demosthenes’prowess:
Copious and lavish,
with care,
spoken with ease

And we rise to the call,
evoked hopes,
refusing to give way
to counsel of friends and fam

Those lips.
They kiss
the curvature of neck and hips
pulling downpours
from a cavernous

the gift,


In the goalkeeper’s hands,
they STOP

L. 08/21/11 0600

A few of my girls and I were discussing the MIA male phenomenon and it inspired this piece. We laugh as there is nothing much else we can do at this behavior. How someone can come into your life and say the nicest and most lavish things and then one day (not necessarily as described in the piece, he simply disappears as if you don’t matter, the words meant nothing) YET boys hate when you call them liars or pretenders. Geez!!! The worst even is when you happen to see him at the mall or a party and he acts as if it you were two strangers and that he had not pull a whole magic act of disappearing on your ass (or you see his status update “in a relationship, uhm 2 days after he never returned your text or call or email). LIKE WHAT brother man!!! So, now my girls and I play pretend, let these boys get away with it, act as if the phone companies’ towers all broke down, the emails have stopped working, that we had moved and changed our names, you know the typical “it’s not you brotherman, it is us sisters, you know, those crazy females with a horrible memory” as we shake our heads, yes we do in our minds, just as you are behaving as if you did nothing wrong, without a single word or confrontation (cause we are tired of raising up children and asking for boys to grow up and own up to their deeds). Really boys?! How is it so easy to holler at a sister but you have not the guts to say “hey, this ain’t working for me, or hey, I am not ready for this, something, anything, just any damn thing that means GOODBYE, do not expect to hear from me ever again. It was nice knowing yah” REALLY!!!!?? There is a part 2 of this poem, presently working on it but…grrr LOL
Additionally I leave our dearly loved grown up boys with these: “A man’s legacy comes from maintaining his integrity.” You’re not a man if you lack integrity, just an overgrown boy!  and this one
I am also working this out in my head as well. WHERE HAVE ALL THE GENTLEMEN GONE? Do we have any more left? Who is teaching  these boys how to BE gentlemen? Bon… A suivre
HAPPY SUNDAY MY LOVELIES, thanks to all my readers who have not left me, have come to read etc…YES the numbers speak for you, THANK YOU, Muahhhhhhhhhh!

Changes and Crumbs

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Diesel fuel realities
poured into high-octane
kerosene fantasies, giving metal
to the horn for change

Ravished coasts by
merciless whimsical winds
part ways. Two worlds collide,
submerge, diverge, chaos!
The ground moves. Uprooted, the
trees fall, crushing burgeoning

Apodictic certitude of post
mortem for a present now past;
or a prelude to bliss, placing hope in
present arms, a salve for senses
and bondage for pride

Felled tears, unshed,
are silenced by the horizon
harnessing forgetfulness and
we go on

L. 05/02/11 Submitted to Jingle Poetry Potluck

There is another major absolute in life, apart from death and that is change. I learned that a long time ago.