Then, express yourself in seventeen syllables... What you see and feel. Now, blast open the classic form, take it out, take it in, but keep the twist, the skeptical, the odd perspective, your own visions, and your own way of making your mark...
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Too Fucking Smooth
There was a time
when the brother was called a
cat.
Cool, sophisticated, urbane and smooth
with the veiled threat of incomprehensible violence
right there
visible
like ripples of muscle
under smooth skin
Claws retracted within
nimble fingers on quick moving hands
holding cigarettes
or a saxophone
When he slid into a room
quiet almost
undetected
you knew he was there because of the force of his presence
He stood there still, taking in the scene
His vibe like the purring of a satisfied feline
who had just eaten
and been stroked to a level of satisfaction
that other men could not know.
Yeah
the brother used to be called cat
Hep cat, cool cat, bad mutherfucking cat,
cut you in a New York minute you fuck with him cat
Cruising through with
Music
Like Miles, Monk,
Rashan Roland Kirk,
or Coltrane filtering
through , music you can hear but can’t quite identify.
When he walked,
the sound
of his polyrhythmic footfalls
made the sidewalks drums,
made the streets pathways to the bush,
transformed you back to your ancestor self
Standing guard over the village young,
watching closely the tall grass
where you know the hunter animal lies in wait
for the juicy morsels of flesh to wander by.
Cool mutherfukka just stands there,
still
but you can feel
the tension coiled in him
like high tensile steel
You feel the chill in your blood,
the rush of adrenaline
Fight or flight.
And you be glad you got your Chucks on
so you can book at a moments notice
but no,
transfixed you stand there knowing he has better prey.
He feasts on the night
The pulse flows where only he knows, you are clueless
He knows with animal instinct
Slides up to that beauty that all others have found
both irresistible and unapproachable,
utters a short phrase and she looks at him,
regards him with danger and fascination covering her curiosity
and the next thing you know
they are gone into the night
To his lair
Yes, somewhere in the night he feeds himself
And the Cheshire cat grin finds itself on her face in the morning.
Yeah, they used to call the brother ‘Cat’
Never wonder why
now you know.
He was just
too fucking smooth
to be called anything else!
Friday, June 09, 2006
Sweet Words
sweet words
cut like daggers
when you tell me about
good things in your life
I forget all that's good in mine
and wake up to reality again
knowing that all my choices
will end with somebody's pain
better it be all mine now
so sweet words can come back again
between you and me
sweet words
I cannot hear now
without feeling
a hole in my heart
but at least I know
that its beating again
and one day will
be as happy as it can be
as happy as I allow it to be
without you
cut like daggers
when you tell me about
good things in your life
I forget all that's good in mine
and wake up to reality again
knowing that all my choices
will end with somebody's pain
better it be all mine now
so sweet words can come back again
between you and me
sweet words
I cannot hear now
without feeling
a hole in my heart
but at least I know
that its beating again
and one day will
be as happy as it can be
as happy as I allow it to be
without you
Haiku Quest
Rain, the gentle dew
Restless spirit seeking peace
Shimmering green grass...
Soft pillow the earth
mother to every nation
stand here in your tribe
Walk among people
spreading peace, where you travel
flower petals fall
Snow like, we dream on
no two alike, all the same
bleeding tears when cut
Can we settle down?
No longer restless, at peace
Brothers and Sisters
Restless spirit seeking peace
Shimmering green grass...
Soft pillow the earth
mother to every nation
stand here in your tribe
Walk among people
spreading peace, where you travel
flower petals fall
Snow like, we dream on
no two alike, all the same
bleeding tears when cut
Can we settle down?
No longer restless, at peace
Brothers and Sisters
Sunday, June 04, 2006
e.e.cummings on kisses vs wisdom
since feeling is first
who pays attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world
my blood approves
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
-the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelid's flutter which says
we are for each other:then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis
Now I dunno about you
but this dude sure hit
that nail hard and square
on the head.
I would trade a whole buncha stuff in my head for real good kisses.
And my blood definitely approves!
who pays attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world
my blood approves
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
-the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelid's flutter which says
we are for each other:then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis
Now I dunno about you
but this dude sure hit
that nail hard and square
on the head.
I would trade a whole buncha stuff in my head for real good kisses.
And my blood definitely approves!
Wanting a Poet
You are soft lips
spread into a smile
Dimples crown your cheeks
and I wonder
what
it would be like
to kiss you.
That mouth caresses words
like waves of flames
Sets me off easily,
exploding with images you conjure
with suppleness, quickness, and grace.
I can't imagine your tongue
to be anything less
than pleasure itself.
Then you rock me with that wicked sense you have
of the world,
the way you see my weak attempts to get over on you
with meaningless words
cause you know what my game really is.
You know when I speak truth
and any time I'm not standing here
solid with my shit, is a game I cannot play
without you calling me out,
exposing me for the fool I thought
I got over being long before you were born.
You laugh, roll your eyes and snap a line at your girls
that has them looking at me like I was the
country boy seeing a skyscraper for the first time,
shocked, bewildered, and lost in concrete and asphalt,
hadn't shaken the straw out my hair,
the shit smell out my jeans.
And there you were hitting me with those eyes, those lips,
and that smile
making me grin like an idiot and throwing
my tattered bag over my sholder
and strolling down the street
like a pimp in a bad blaxploitation movie,
Like Huggy Bear bellbottoms were back in style and I
was wearing coveralls and humming John Denver or Neil Diamond songs,
looking just that foolish.
But, you are kind, take my battered ego and say,
"yes, you can sit next to me, maybe ask me out
and maybe even buy me a poem"
spread into a smile
Dimples crown your cheeks
and I wonder
what
it would be like
to kiss you.
That mouth caresses words
like waves of flames
Sets me off easily,
exploding with images you conjure
with suppleness, quickness, and grace.
I can't imagine your tongue
to be anything less
than pleasure itself.
Then you rock me with that wicked sense you have
of the world,
the way you see my weak attempts to get over on you
with meaningless words
cause you know what my game really is.
You know when I speak truth
and any time I'm not standing here
solid with my shit, is a game I cannot play
without you calling me out,
exposing me for the fool I thought
I got over being long before you were born.
You laugh, roll your eyes and snap a line at your girls
that has them looking at me like I was the
country boy seeing a skyscraper for the first time,
shocked, bewildered, and lost in concrete and asphalt,
hadn't shaken the straw out my hair,
the shit smell out my jeans.
And there you were hitting me with those eyes, those lips,
and that smile
making me grin like an idiot and throwing
my tattered bag over my sholder
and strolling down the street
like a pimp in a bad blaxploitation movie,
Like Huggy Bear bellbottoms were back in style and I
was wearing coveralls and humming John Denver or Neil Diamond songs,
looking just that foolish.
But, you are kind, take my battered ego and say,
"yes, you can sit next to me, maybe ask me out
and maybe even buy me a poem"
Friday, June 02, 2006
Night Kisses
I can still feel them
I don't even have to close my eyes
or breathe in
I can still smell you
feel you playfully kissing me
like a cat licks its milk
still feel the texture of your tongue
better than in my dreams
still feel how much I had to hold back
so you wouldn't know
how much I wanted
to keep going
pleasing you all the way through
reaching as far as I could
into you
like you reach into
me
without even trying
Effortlessly you wander
across my lips
into my mouth
setting off alarms
blazing wet fires
all over
all in
all around
so that
I can still feel them
You can do that again,
you never have to do that again
I don't want to be anything other than pleasure
fun
laughs
games
delight
for you
Pleasure in hearing our voices together
like our kisses
we both know that there are
those things that pull us away
from those sweet moments
ah, so sweet that
I can still feel them
I don't even have to close my eyes
or breathe in
I can still smell you
feel you playfully kissing me
like a cat licks its milk
still feel the texture of your tongue
better than in my dreams
still feel how much I had to hold back
so you wouldn't know
how much I wanted
to keep going
pleasing you all the way through
reaching as far as I could
into you
like you reach into
me
without even trying
Effortlessly you wander
across my lips
into my mouth
setting off alarms
blazing wet fires
all over
all in
all around
so that
I can still feel them
You can do that again,
you never have to do that again
I don't want to be anything other than pleasure
fun
laughs
games
delight
for you
Pleasure in hearing our voices together
like our kisses
we both know that there are
those things that pull us away
from those sweet moments
ah, so sweet that
I can still feel them
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